Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 208: Time in the inn_Part 3

His entire body tightened. "My pleasure," he whispered, then settled himself into her, causing her to gasp in surprise.

He was too big. It had only been a few months since he had last entered her, and she was tight, like it was the first time. She almost felt as though she couldn’t stretch enough to take all of him in.

Rohan groaned softly as he pushed all the way in. He took a long breath, his chest pressing hers. He wouldn’t look at her, turning his head so she stared directly at his cheekbone and rain-wet hair slicked to his skull.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

"No. You’re not." She breathed.

"Good." He thrust once. "Good."

Belle squeezed her eyes shut as he thrust again. The thickness of him pushed so deep inside her she thought it would tear her apart.

And it felt good.

"Rohan," she moaned his name. "I don’t want you to stop. Ahh, I like it..." she cried out when he suddenly paused at the sound of his name, but then continued his thrusts at her encouragement not to stop.

Rohan answered her by moving slowly inside her, thick and hard. Deeper, faster.

"Please..."

She rocked her hips up as he came down. He held himself up on one hand while he fisted her hair in his other. He tickled the ends of her hair along her breasts, and her overly sensitive nipples rose and tightened.

He leaned down and licked one areola, teasing the point into his mouth. She watched his teeth play, his tongue swirl over the nipple, the pink skin rising into his mouth. He closed his eyes as though he were savoring some rich dish, his lashes soft points against his cheeks.

Belle ached sweetly where they were joined. The friction burned deliciously along her petals, a fire that made her want to spread her legs wider. She did—sliding her feet over the covers, letting her hips arch upward to meet and match his slow thrust.

"Do you feel it?" Rohan rasped.

A dozen phrases ran through Belle’s mind, but she gasped out, "Yes." freewёbnoνel-com

"You’re so tight, my love. Squeezing me so hard." He smiled as he said it, watching her face flush with that color he liked so much—only for her to squeeze him even more.

She’d never thought words like this were enough to make more passion and desire burn deep inside her, but she felt herself rising to the high clouds.

"Squeeze me some more, love," he murmured into her mouth. "You feel so damn good."

She instinctively tightened her muscles, and he groaned deep in his throat—and the sound of it only seemed to make the fire burning inside her rise another degree. It felt utterly, devastatingly wonderful to feel him moving inside her, the steady thrusts driving her insane, clouding her mind to the point that even her own name was forgotten in the haze of bliss and passion.

He was all thick and hard, moving deeper with every stroke. She tried to tell him how wonderful the feeling was, to give him bawdy talk in return—but she couldn’t form the words. His mouth moved over her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he worked to leave a love bite, and still, his thrusts did not stop.

"I wanted you in City Lamp," he said. "I wanted you straddling me in the dark while I came up inside you."

"In the opera?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Right there in the damn box, with the opera blaring on. I’d take you—make love to you." He placed his hand on her neck, right over the spot where he’d given her the love bite just now. "I branded you."

Belle managed a smile, her mind too far gone in the moment to focus on anything. He then laced his fingers tightly through hers and pressed her hand to the bed as he thrust deeper and faster into her.

"Belong to me."

She couldn’t reply even if she wanted to. Her only answer was a moan of delight and utter fulfillment.

"Always mine. Always, Isa." Thrusts punctuated the words.

Always. Her body jerked in rhythm with his, the bed creaking. It was a solid bed, thick mahogany, made to take men like Rohan loving their women.

She was his woman, Belle thought in delight. Being with him was decidedly the best thing, and she felt freer than she’d ever felt in her life. Under him, she could spread her wings and act as wanton as she wanted, and her husband would not mind.

She was spreading herself as far as she could. Rohan’s eyes were closed, his face twisted in pleasure. His thrusts accelerated, his hips pounding as if it were the last coupling he’d ever have—and she met every thrust with pleasure.

She cried for him to go faster, and he drove her into the mattress, his body heavy on hers, their sweat mingling together as she felt herself drawing closer to the destination of paradise he was leading her to. She closed her eyes and moaned her pleasure.

Icy rain streamed against the windows, and a boom of thunder swallowed her sudden cry of ecstasy.

Rohan groaned as he felt himself coming closer to his release, his body jerking against hers with each pulse of pleasure that surged through him. He held her tightly beneath him, burying himself as deep as he could go, like he never wanted to leave the warmth of her body. His breath came in ragged bursts against her neck, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as his release poured into her in thick, hot waves. His hands gripped her hips possessively, anchoring her to him as he gave her everything, every last drop of his need and desire.

In that moment, Rohan opened his eyes, like pure twin dark coals coming into view, and let his gaze directly meet Belle’s.

She stopped breathing.

For the first time since she’d met him, Rohan’s gaze fully connected with hers without the intention of compelling her.

His eyes were as dark as she’d always known, but she hadn’t known that his black pupils were ringed with red—or perhaps the red had only just appeared because of what they had just done. His body slowed as he studied her, as though looking at her had arrested all of his attention. He didn’t blink, didn’t move, just let his gaze rest on hers.

Still trying to catch her breath, she touched his face in wonder. "Rohan."

Rohan started and turned his head away, and when he looked back, his eyes drifted slightly sideways, avoiding hers.

Belle’s heart wrenched. "No, please don’t look away again."

Rohan closed his eyes and bent to kiss her.

"Why won’t you meet my eyes?" she asked softly. "What’s wrong with me?"

He opened his eyes again, but still didn’t meet hers. His gaze held a lost, distant expression for a moment, then slipped past her eyes.

"There’s nothing wrong with you, my love," he whispered in reassurance, but still, he wouldn’t look into her eyes.

"Then why?"

"I can’t explain. Sometimes it just gets overwhelming to keep eye contact. Don’t ask me to explain it. I can’t. I am used to not looking into anyone’s eyes unless I want them gone from this world. I don’t want you gone."

Belle’s heart ached. She didn’t understand why making eye contact overwhelmed him, and she wanted to, but maybe this wasn’t the time to ask, to press him for an explanation or force him to help her understand.

"I’m sorry..." she whispered. She stroked his hair as tears leaked from her eyes.

"Don’t cry." He kissed her wet cheek. "This is a time for happiness."

"I know."

He was still inside her, thick and hard, spreading her marvelously without making any attempt to withdraw from her. Don’t hunger for what you can’t have, she admonished herself. Take pleasure in what you can. Such thoughts had got her through the worst days recently.

She wanted all of Rohan, body and soul, when she knew she couldn’t have that. He was giving her what he could: the joy of his body and attention. He had never told her that he loved her despite having his heart back, but she was still content with what he gave her. If she judged by his actions alone, everything he did was what a man in love with his wife would do.

Though she just wanted to hear him tell her that he loved her and have him all, like she was willing to give her all to him.

"You are so bad for me," she muttered quietly. Her heart had never gone through all the wild, chaotic emotions she had experienced in the past months of being married.

He gave her a half smile. "I’m the Mad Duke of Nightbrook. I’m bad for everything that breathes and has a heart."

Belle pressed his face between her hands, displeasure suddenly rising in her. "That is other people’s explanation because they don’t understand you. You are not mad. You are part demon and vampire, which makes you different, and when people do not understand something, they give it a name that gives them the illusion that they understand. You were never mad, and it was wrong they kept you locked up in the madhouse."

"Only you, my little wife, believe that. And I am glad. So glad."

Rohan kissed her again, occupying her mouth with something far more satisfying than talk of his sanity.

He began to move inside her again. His body was hot and tense, the sounds he made thrilling her beyond anything she thought she could feel.

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