A Touch Too Much by Chris Lange Page B

drawing out. Face to face with the vampire of her dreams, Liv understood there was no going back this time. Her voice as soft as a silken thread, she reached out to touch his fangs.
    “I know you’ll never hurt me.”
    He swept her into his arms.

Chapter Eleven
     
     
     
    Rogan had stretched out his long coat on the grass. Liv smelt the rich damp soil, the thick fresh odour of growing plants. Over their heads a canopy of trees curtained them, but she could see a myriad of stars shining bright in the sky. One for each beat of her heart.
    Entwined, their naked bodies glistened in the moonlight. Rogan had buried his strong hands in her hair and was now kissing her breasts adoringly. She relished the weight of his body, the heavy pressure increasing her desire. When he licked her nipples—his provocative tongue flickering on the pink skin—she raved from pleasure.
    As he nibbled her, she felt him stiff between her thighs. So stiff she couldn’t think of anything else. Nothing existed but this willing hardness, solely intent on getting inside and ravishing her with delight. That wasn’t fantasy. That was rock-solid proof of his need of her. He ran his tongue over her breasts before whispering her name.
    The throbbing between her legs wouldn’t abate. Calling. Demanding. Frantic for the man’s skin grazing her opening. Abruptly, Rogan let go of her hair. Leaning on his forearms, he raised his head to look into her eyes. When he spoke, his strangled voice sent shivers down her belly.
    “Liv, the impulse… It’s coming!”
    “Let it come. You won’t hurt me.”
    She gasped when his hard sex touched her for the first time. Really touched her. He pushed himself in, just a little, and stopped. Skins blended. Fluids mixed. Legs splayed, heart pumping blood and desire, Liv panted under this agonising sensation.
    “God, Rogan!”
    He gave another push, penetrating her moistness. She thought her whole body was liquefying, dissolving into the purest emotion she had ever known. She quivered, tremors of irresistible pleasure running their powerful course. Breathing hard, eyes closed, she let her senses take control.
    “Look at me!”
    She obeyed his harsh command to discover anew his beloved face marked with passion. As their inflamed gazes met, he slid all the way in. She moaned, her chest quickly rising up and down, her attention fixed on his sensual mouth. Then he whispered for her.
    “Look at me! I want to see the joy in your eyes.”
    He slightly withdrew, only to drive himself hard into her. Submitted to this excruciating motion, she dug her nails into his shoulders. Wild tears gushed out, wetting her cheeks, sliding down to her lips. Never had she felt so much pleasure, so much desire for another man. Except that the term ‘man’ couldn’t be applied in his case. He was a creature of the night.
    He rammed her even harder. She shuddered under his total domination while his grunts brought a pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. From head to toe, she needed to be mastered, to be the servant of his steamy cravings. She hadn’t been prepared for anything remotely like this enslaving sensation. She wasn’t sure her heart could take it, yet she begged for it.
    “Love me, Rogan.”
    He murmured her name, suddenly tightening his grasp on her. In a single swift thrust, he impaled her. She cried out. Huge and rigid, he filled her completely, giving her what no other man could give her.
    He drank her cry with a passionate kiss, all the time gliding in and out of her, again and again. Legs widely spread to fit his every strike, powerful waves of delight already drowning and engulfing her, she got goose bumps when he moaned in her ear. Moaned from the relentless pleasure they were sharing.
    Then he straightened up, his broad chest pale in the moonlight. He placed his hands on her hips to pull her forward and backward, all the while staring at the rapture he must be seeing on her features, on the curve of her mouth, in her eyes