Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 99: The visitor

She lifted her chin and kissed him back.

He had been her teacher: she knew how to taste his mouth, search the corners while he grew still, his lips parting a little for her to invade and learn. His body seemed to respond with a slow tautness, a tightening over her; his hands pressed into her skin, fingers spreading at the sides of her sensitive nipples that had molded into taut buds. And when he cupped her through her dress, she arched her back up and pressed herself into his palm, his finger flickering over her nipple and making it harden.

Yet he lay motionless while he teased her breast and she kissed him, suspended over her, his mouth submissive to hers, as if his whole concentration was on what it felt like for her to kiss him and not the other way around. His lips opened more with each contact, allowing her to seek further—inviting it.

She touched him with her tongue. He was foreign and familiar, so close and yet so strange to her. Masculine and strong, an aggressiveness she could feel held in check for her sake and for her inexperienced mouth to become accustomed.

His breath mingled with hers, light with anticipation.

Belle tasted deeper. He met her with his tongue, with a raw, fierce note in his chest and a penetrating answer. He took command of the kiss and invite. His body closed with hers and he laid perfectly on and between her parted legs.

On her bed, with his weight pressed down on her, he kissed her wholly while being careful not to touch her bruises, all play and lightness vanished from him.

And she returned it, opening her mouth across his. Her arm went around his neck to bring him even closer than he was, and he let out a deep, primitive sound in his throat that reverberated against her breasts. She swirled her fingers into the little hair at his nape.

He responded to her, taking what she surrendered as easily as if he knew her mind, knew the moment that her body and her heart awakened to intense sensation.

He locked his hands with hers and spread them out on the mattress above her head. His warm leather glove drove into her palms, caught between his hand and hers, but she wanted it. She clutched her fingers against his. She liked the feeling of him like she liked him pressed in the aching spot between her legs, where she felt warm and silky, moist and wanting.

Everything inside her arched upward to meet his kiss. It seemed that she had been bound up, held tight by threads that he had broken with a touch.

Rohan felt her deliciously arched against his hardened erection, and when she grazed it with her middle, a heat began a slow, liquid dissolve in his loins. He deepened the kiss and drank from her delicious mouth and moved against her.

He could imagine and see himself taking her, being one with her. Inside her, God, inside her... he imagined it... spreading for him, opening like a flower; in his mind, the clothes between them had disappeared, and she was perfectly, gloriously naked, a slim, pretty nymph on the bed, eager, arching and pulling him into her, her legs wrapped around him as he thrust into her... wanting closer, wanting deeper and deeper and harder...

Rohan made a faint sound and began to try to frantically remove the fabric that stood between him and what he imagined doing at this very moment to his wife. She was his, and she was opening, aching for him as much as he had been for her. He had waited too long; it was time he was given the reward for waiting this long.

With frantic, shaky hands, Rohan began to pull her nightdress up her waist, away from that sweet spot he wanted to be in. He rubbed his fingers against her and, despite his glove, felt the moist and warmth, and he groaned into the kiss and cursed. "You’re ready for me, love..."

His fingers slid into the cleft between her thighs, the pad of his thumb drawing upward to circle the hood of her sex. She groaned and trembled while his fingers entered her with gentle skill, and his mouth consumed hers with desperate fervor.

Belle heard herself, like a whimpering child, moaning with the terrible pleasure of it. She moved; she could not help it, taking the rhythm that he gave her mouth with his tongue, and the fingers moving, arching to find more.

His fingers withdrew, and she felt him opening the front of his trousers. He mounted her, using his thighs to widen the angle between her legs further apart to accommodate him.

As much as she wanted to experience this, the realization that he was going to do it now, where Gwen could come in at any time, made her turn her head to remind him not to go that far. But he gave her no chance to form the words—he crushed his mouth to hers again, making her body rigid with fear and anticipation.

His large hand slipped beneath her bottom. "Relax," he whispered against her lips when she tried to speak. "I’ll be gentle, I promise. Just open to me. That’s it... yes..." And he began to enter her with exquisite care, stretching her, filling her with silk and heat and impossible sensation, and her fingers dug into his upper arm at the discomfort and sharp pain that came with accommodating him into her innocence.

He was yet to start moving or she to know what comes after such discomfort when she heard him groan and curse. He withdrew from her, the weight of his erection sliding wetly from her body. It was then that she heard the slamming sound of a door as if someone had come and quickly retreated after seeing what they were doing.

Belle jerked, trying to move away and cover herself in shame, but he pinned her wrist to the bed, not holding the injured part. He stilled for an instant as he drew in rough, harsh breath, and instead of letting go to see who had come in, he held tighter against her convulsive effort to extricate herself. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Without looking up, he kissed her ear. "Calm down," he said, muffled against her. "Calm, Isa." Then he kissed her briefly again, and lifted himself away from her and the bed and began to fasten back his trousers while Belle frantically tried to make herself modest again by pulling her dress down and the sheets over her body.

"There better be a good reason for your interruption, Rav, or you are dead meat," Rohan warned through their mind’s link with a murderous look in his eyes as he tried to retain his painful erection back into his trousers.

Rav, who had run outside the chamber as fast as he could, jumped at his master’s voice in his head. He had tried to connect through their link, but Rohan had shut it, and he’d knocked repeatedly and had been ignored, which was why he had thought to open the door, which was left slightly ajar, only to be greeted with the sounds of moans and groans. He’d run back as fast as he could without waiting to see what was going on on the bed.

He was an adult male—a vampire at that—but he flushed to the root of his head as his heart was beating frantically. To be honest, it was the very first time he had ever walked into something like that or even been around where it was happening. Cooling his damn heart and heated face, he hurriedly spoke through their link.

"I—I did not see anything when I entered, my Lord, I swear, and I wouldn’t have had you answered my knocks," came Rav’s anxious voice. "You have a visitor, it’s Lady Cordelia, and she refused to listen that you are busy with her lady. She wanted to come up here to greet the lady, and I wanted to warn you about her and—"

Rav barely finished speaking when the she-devil made her way into the chamber without bothering to knock, smiling like the world’s kindest person.

"Good morning, cousin Rohan."