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He drew back, rising up. I ached at the absence of his touch. But the sight of his hands on the waist of
his trousers, unfastening them with a few quick motions and shoving them down to his knees, made it all
worth it.
He had to climb off me completely to get them off the rest of the way. I scrambled up when he did so
and reached for him, fingers sliding over his chest, his stomach, gliding down to curl around his cock as he
pushed the trousers off his hips. He gave a husky laugh as my hand worked over him, grinning. An arm
wound around the small of my back, clasping me to him.
 Here, he murmured, bearing me down onto my back. I wrapped my arms around his hips to keep
him pressed against me, but he twisted away.  Wait. Just one moment.
I pushed myself up so I was nearly sitting, and so I could watch as he reached down off the bed and
felt around for something. It only took a moment before he grunted in victory and came back to join me on
top of the bed. There was a small glass bottle in his hands, like the kind that held ladies perfumes, but
when he worked the stopper out of the bottle I couldn t smell anything. He poured it onto his palm and I
saw it was oil, shining and slick. A shiver ran through me as Maikel spread it thoroughly over his cock.
It shouldn t have surprised me that he d have oil tucked away conveniently beneath his bed. Maikel
took too much pleasure in his indulgences not to be prepared. But I remembered the barmaid downstairs,
the rapt way she had gazed at him, and the thought of who he might have been preparing for twisted like a
knife in my gut.
 Maikel. I reached for him, spreading my hand over his chest. His heart pounded beneath my palm.
 Tell me. Tell me what you said before. I slid my hand up, fingers curling into his shoulder.  Tell me you
meant it.
He took my hand and pressed kisses to my palm.  Such a need you have, to hear these words. Surely
you ve heard them a thousand times before. He leaned down to kiss my shoulder.  Surely no suitor could
resist. You must be sick of such words, by now.
44 www.samhainpublishing.com
Blood and Roses
 Patrons. I pulled my hand away from him. My legs slipped off his hips.  They were patrons, not
suitors. And it was always a lie. I pushed against him. He eased back. The kisses he dropped on my skin
were lighter, gentler, soothing.  No one ever means it. Not when they say it to a whore.
He rocked back from me a little, suddenly serious.  And whores never say it at all. Not even if it s the
truth. I flinched. He touched my cheek.  Especially not then, perhaps.
 Because it s just business, I whispered, unable to look away from the intensity in his gaze.  It s just
a& transaction. It s not about emotion. My voice dropped even further, barely a breath of sound.  It can t
be.
 But here, now, with me& you are not a whore. He leaned his brow against my chest. His words
were muffled against my skin.  And you still won t say it. Tentatively, I touched my hands to the ends of
his hair.  Do you think I need to hear it any less than you?
I stroked my thumbs along the sides of his neck, tracing the lines of muscle. With gentle pressure I
urged him to raise his head. His face was shadowed, but I could see the hunger in his gaze as he watched
me, waiting.
 No one ever means it when they say it to you, either, do they? I asked. And of course, they would
say it. The way people flocked to his kind, it was a wonder they weren t shouting it from the rooftops at all
hours of the night.
Maikel didn t answer, but his lips pressed into a thin line and his brows drew together, and he didn t
have to. I traced a finger up the bridge of his nose, along the line of his eyebrow, thinking about the first
night and the dozens of women I d seen throwing themselves at him. They don t care about me, he d said,
and seemed so nonchalant about it, like he didn t mind. Like he preferred it that way.
I knew him better, now.
I pushed his hair out of his face, because I wanted to know what it looked like when you said those
words to someone, and I wanted him to be able to see too.
 I love you, I whispered.  And I do mean it.
Emotion flared in his eyes, then was cut off when he pressed them closed, hard enough to draw
creases at their corners. I brushed my thumbs over the lines and he opened them again, his gaze unwavering
as he dragged my mouth to his.
I moaned into his kiss and broke off with a gasp when he grabbed my thigh and hitched my leg up
around his waist. He matched our hips together. I shuddered at the feel of his oil-slickened cock pressing
against my entrance, nudging into me. My body stretched, welcoming him. I pulled his head back down to
me. He claimed my mouth in a fierce kiss as his hips flexed and thrust, burying himself in me. I tugged at
him, fingers digging, body straining, until at last he began to move, driving into me with sharp, powerful
thrusts. I wrapped my arms and legs about him, clung tight, and surged against him in time with his rhythm.
My hands slipped through the sweat on his skin, roaming restlessly as need built within me. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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