Page 14 of The Vampire’s Ballerina

I pull out and thrust back in, slamming against her and rocking her petite body. Her breasts bounce with the movement, and we both groan at the sensation of me filling her. My balls are already tightening, signaling my impending release, and I’m not even ashamed of how fast I reach my orgasm. Imogen feels too good, and it’s been too long since I’ve found my pleasure with another. But I need her to finish first. I need her to know that her pleasure will always be more important than mine, that she will always come first. In every way.

I wrap my arms around her torso and lift her against my chest, holding her tightly while I pound into her as fast as I can. Our mouths crash together. Her hands clutch at my body and tug at my light-brown hair, and she punctuates her long, frantic, desperate kisses with moans, sighs, and groans.

I nip at her lips, but pull away as I feel my fangs descending. I press my forehead against hers to keep from sinking my teeth into her tender flesh. I want to feed from her—fuck, do I ever—but I can’t. Not yet, and possibly not ever.

“Pietro…”

A moan follows my name.

“Yes, cara mia?”

Imogen lifts her eyes to mine just as my fingers find her clit, and her mouth falls open. Our eyes stay locked as she tenses and then shudders and trembles and breaks in my arms. Her body presses against mine with each roll of her hips, through each wave of her orgasm. My other hand wraps around her neck, brushing her lips with my thumb.

I slam into her three more times, and the world stops around us. I too fall apart, finally joining her on the other side of the peak. There is nothing else that exists for me beyond her and our joined bodies and the unmatched pleasure we’ve found together.

Our bodies still as we catch our breath, still staring into each other’s eyes. And all I can think of is how stunning she is, how lucky I am to have her in my arms and in my bed.

I press my lips to hers, softer now, with less urgency and less insistence than before. She drapes her arms around my neck as I cup her cheeks, my thumbs caressing her cheekbones, savoring and delighting in her soft femininity.

“Stay with me tonight,” I say against her mouth, even though I already told her I wouldn’t let her leave, even though she didn’t argue with me when I did.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here.”

Thank fuck, she doesn’t try to argue.

“But I am still a little hungry. I didn’t get to finish eating.”

I chuckle and cradle the back of her head in my hand as I move us onto the bed and pull back the covers. “Get comfortable, dolcezza mia. I will be right back.”

I kiss her forehead and then zip around the apartment, cleaning up the trash, closing the open windows in the living room, and returning to the bedroom with her unfinished dinner in record time. She has just finished tucking the blankets around herself when I join her again. I pull her naked body against mine. She settles in close to me, and I balance the plate in front of us so I can feed her.

“So.” My lips twitch with silent laughter as she takes her first bite. “I heard my little ballerina is also a little songbird.”

A frown mars her lovely face, and then she groans. “Please don’t tell me someone took videos of karaoke last night.”

“Don’t fret, cara mia.” I stroke her back. “From what I saw, you were much better than most of your friends. Wesley in particular.”

She laughs. “He was pretty awful.”

And with her safe in my arms and in my bed, as I feed her—as I spoil her the way she deserves to be spoiled—she recounts her night out, telling me every detail she can remember. Then, once she’s sated and sleepy and we’ve talked well into the night, I turn the lights off and curl myself around her as she drifts to sleep.

Chapter Four

Imogen

“ Buongiorno dolcezza.” Peter’s lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers good morning to me, his voice hoarse.

I stir in my sleep as he sweeps my hair from my face and trails sweet kisses along my cheekbone to my nose. Snuggling into him, I tighten my arms around his middle, and he returns my squeeze, pulling me closer.

I tilt my chin, and my lips meet his in a slow, sensual good morning kiss before I force my eyes open. Dim light filters into the room through the curtains. For a moment, I forget where I am, confused because we’re not in my bedroom or Peter’s. I’ve woken up in this room—or at least, one just like it—only once before. Almost a month ago, in almost this exact situation: snuggled up naked with a man.

Except that time, it was unplanned after a night of wild, tension-releasing fucking. This time—well, this time is different. For the past week, I’ve woken up this way after spending passion-filled nights with Peter in either his bed or mine. Every morning it’s been the same: him murmuring to me in Italian, giving me soft kisses and gentle caresses—and sometimes more—as we cuddle in bed. Then he makes us coffee, and I make us breakfast before we part ways for the day, only to start the whole routine over again in the evening.

Aside from the change in location, this morning is no different. Peter deepens our kiss, rolling me onto my back and holding his weight over me. The smooth, cool skin of his lean, muscular torso presses against my bare breasts, rubbing against my nipples and waking them right up along with the rest of me. My knees open more, my legs spreading farther apart as I moan into his mouth, his tongue delving deeper as he explores mine.

His hard length rubs my pussy, but he holds back, moving his hand to my hip as I try to arch against him. He pins my body down, not letting me move, not letting me seek any friction.

“Pietro…” I whine, pulling away from his addicting kisses.