"Then come," bid his siren from the warm pool of her bath.
He stepped into the water, sinking down to face her in the dark. He wanted nothing more than to haul her close - drag her into the cradle of his thighs and sheath himself to the hilt in one long stroke. But he would let her set their pace for now.
Last night he had come there hungry and taking; tonight he would give.
Even if the restraint killed him.
Gabrielle glided toward him through the thinning clouds of foam. Her feet went around his h*ps and linked loosely over his ass. She bent forward at the waist, her fingers finding his thighs beneath the surface of the bath. She squeezed the taut muscles, kneaded them, then firmly rode their length in slow, delicious torment.
"You should know, I'm not usually like this."
His groan of interest sounded strained in his ears. "You mean, hot enough to reduce any male to cinder at your feet?"
She exhaled a soft laugh. "Is that what I do to you?"
He brought her teasing hands up to the jutting thickness of his cock. "What do you think?"
"I think you're amazing." She didn't withdraw her touch after his hands left hers. She traced his shaft and balls, then lazily brought her fingers up around the bulbous head that more than breached the surface of the bathwater. "You're not like anyone I've ever known. And what I meant was, I'm not usually so... well, aggressive. I don't date a lot."
"You don't take a lot of men to your bed?"
Even in the dark, he sensed her sudden blush. "No. It's been a very long time."
In that moment, he didn't want her to take any other male - human or vampire - into her bed.
He didn't want her f**king anyone else ever again.
And God help him, he would hunt down and disembowel the Minion bastard who might have harmed her today.
The thought hit him with a savage rush of possessiveness as her fingers squeezed his sex, wringing a drop of slick wetness from the tip. When she bent down over him and drew his c**k into her mouth, suckling him deeply, he arched up as tight as a bowstring.
Forget tearing out the Minion's entrails, he would settle for nothing less than flat-out, bloody murder.
Lucan lowered his hands onto Gabrielle's shoulders as she worked him into a mindless frenzy. Her fingers, her lips, her tongue, her breath rasping against his bare abdomen as she took him deeper and deeper into her hot mouth - all of it driving him to the brink of extraordinary madness. He couldn't get enough. When she drew off of him, he swore roundly at the loss of her sweet suction.
"I need you inside me," she told him, panting.
"Yes," he snarled. "God, yes."
"But..."
Her hesitation confused him. Angered that part of him that was more savage Rogue than considerate lover.
"What's wrong?" It came out more of a demand than he meant.
"Shouldn't we...? Last night, things got out of hand before I could mention it... but shouldn't we, you know, use something this time?" Her discomfort sliced through his passion-drenched mind like a blade. He grew still, and she pulled away from him as if to get out of the tub. "I have some condoms in the other room..."
His hand clamped down around her wrist before she could move to rise.
"I can't make you pregnant." Why did that sound so harsh to him now? It was plain truth. Only bonded pairs - Breedmate women and the vampire males who exchanged blood from each other's veins - could successfully produce offspring. "As for anything else, you don't have to worry about protecting yourself. I'm healthy, and nothing we do together will hurt either one of us."
"Oh. Me, too. And I hope you don't think I'm prudish for asking - "
He drew her closer to him, silencing her awkwardness with a slow kiss. When their lips parted, he said, "I think, Gabrielle Maxwell, that you're an intelligent woman who respects her body and herself. I respect you for having the courage to be careful."
She smiled against his mouth. "I don't want to be careful when I'm near you. You make me wild. You make me want to scream."
With her hands splayed on his chest, she pushed him down, until he was leaning against the back of the tub. Then she rose up over the heavy spear of his sex and moved her slick cleft along its length, sliding up and down, almost - but f**k, not quite! - sheathing him in her warmth.
"I want to make you scream," she whispered near his ear.
Lucan groaned with the pure agony of her sensual dance. He fisted his hands at his sides in the water to keep from grabbing her and impaling her on his nearly bursting erection. She kept up her wicked game, until he felt his cl**ax knotting in his shaft. He was about to spill, and she was still teasing him mercilessly.
"Fuck," he swore through gritted teeth and fangs, tipping his head back. "For chrissake, Gabrielle, you are killing me."
"I want to hear it," she coaxed.
And then her juicy sex was inching down over the head of his cock.
Slowly.
So damned slowly.
His seed boiled up, and he shuddered as a trickle of hot liquid spurted into her body. He moaned, never so close to losing it as he was just then. And Gabrielle's tightness enveloped him further. The tiny muscles inside her clenched at him as she sank lower on his shaft.
He could hardly bear any more.
Gabrielle's scent surrounded him, wafting on the steam of the bath and mingling with the intoxicating perfume of their joined bodies. Her br**sts bobbed near his mouth like fruit just ripe for his picking, but he didn't dare sample them when his control was so near to snapping. He wanted to pull her peachy mounds into his mouth, but his fangs were throbbing with the need to draw blood - a need only heightened in the midst of sexual release.