Blood Promise Excerpt
The distant sound of running water came from the master of the two-bedroom penthouse suite. Glancing out the arched floor to ceiling windows, she marveled at how even this late at night, there was a sea of people crowding the streets. Distracted and completely absorbed in the view, she never even heard Ascher return and startled when his arms banded around her neck.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Enclosing her within the protective confines of his circled arms, his hands splayed across her stomach, bonding them.
As if by instinct, her body obeyed its rhythmic demands, moving fluidly with his. He knew her body—every curve, mark and hollow—and she felt each hard inch of him, even through the boundary of his silky pajama pants. The swaying of their bodies was achingly familiar, the movements mirroring the motions of their lovemaking.
Grasping her hand with his, he led her into the double doors and sweeping archway of the spacious bedroom. More candlelight and flowers accented the decorative cream and white color scheme. The room possessed a surreal sexuality that heightened her awareness of his mood, thus quickening her pulse. She took an exaggerated breath as her lungs struggled to keep pace with her pounding heart.
Four days of worry and mental distance had all but leached the lust from her body, leaving their brutally hot sex life in ruins. The seductive lighting and sight of him gloriously half-dressed coupled with two glasses of Rousseau Red now fueled her hormones, further driving her wild desire for him.
Ascher disappeared behind a huge beige column separating the bedroom from a massive, candle-lined Jacuzzi-style spa tub. The sound of flowing water ended, and he returned nude.
Shauna foolishly gawked at him, as if she’d never seen him without clothing. Flickers of diffused light caressed his symmetrical features, bathing his face in a way that screamed his secret. He was the best of both worlds—immortal gifts merged with deep human emotions and packaged in warm skin. All six foot one of him casually leaned against the marble column, the thick veins and ridges of his hard cock tempting her to go to her knees. Breathtaking was the only word to describe his new rugged appearance.
Ascher’s gaze twinkled against the low light and his lips curved into an assuming smirk. “You’re still dressed.”
Entranced by the hot vision of immortal masculinity inching gracefully toward her, she could only manage a nod. He was hers—the heavy band of platinum, he proudly wore on his ring finger, was a constant reminder of that fact—but the simple reality of him still stunned her. This amazing man unconditionally loved and adored her, despite her numerous shortcomings.
“I think you need help with those clothes,” he murmured against her ear, his hand sliding along her cheek.
Her skin flushed hot with arousal, her body ready to burst into flames.
“You’re blushing.” His lips traced a measured circuit along her neck, his kisses peppering the soft skin. “I missed you. Not just today, but the last couple of days.”
God...not more than I’ve missed you. She slipped her hands through his dark mane. “I missed you, too.”
Before she could register his movement, the row of buttons in her short sleeved, black cashmere sweater parted, exposing a red brassiere underneath. His mouth continued its naughty tour along each swell of her confined breasts, until his fingertips unclasped the front closure of her bra, tossing it to the cream and gold speckled tile. Gently kneading her flesh in his hands, his lips covered one erect nipple, tonguing the tightened tip while tweaking the other with his fingers. A flood of heat pulsed through her body, ending in a wet, hot trickle between her thighs.
Kneeling at her feet and winding his arms around her standing form, he pressed his face to her quivering belly, smoothing his hands along her back until they came to the zipper. Giving her ass a firm squeeze, he planted soft kisses along her stomach that spurred the thunderous beating of her heart. Shedding her black and red, pleated plaid skirt, he placed his nose flush against her matching satin panties, inhaling her and releasing a guttural groan against her abdomen. “You’re so sexy, baby. Do you know that?”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. A knot of nerves blocked her throat, leaving only ragged breaths behind.
Ascher’s actions and movements were deliberate and meticulously measured—a stark contrast to their recent encounters of wild, fabric shredding, teeth clenching abandon—but his shaking hands told her that he was dangerously close to the edge.
Lifting her, he removed her panties and set her on the huge bed clad in silky beige linens.
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