Free The Cherished One by Carolyn Faulkner Page A

All she knew was that she wanted him, and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.  She should be screaming and shouting and clawing at him and exhausting her very last breath to get away from this vampire who had caused her to lose the man she’d held so dear, and, from his own mouth, very nearly her own life.
    But right now, all she asked in this world was that he didn’t stop touching her. 
    And he didn’t.  He had her naked in his arms in a second, without so much as a peep from her.  In fact, she applauded him silently, knowing he would hear it, because it allowed her fevered skin just that much more of his touch.  His hands were slightly cool, and she instantly knew he hadn’t fed lately.  “Do you need to feed?” she asked, wondering where that left her in the equation.
    It had been a very long time since anyone had showed any concern about him.  It felt... strangely good.  And awkwardly touching, considering their situation.  “No, Cherie.  I’m fine.  And no one should ever feed from you again.  You would likely not survive it.”
    He gripped her nether cheeks, one in each big hand, squeezing and separating, squeezing and separating, then running his fingers lightly up that tantalizing crevasse, then up the length of her spine, feeling her shiver from the chills his touch evoked.
    His palms reached under her for a second, lifting her by her ribs so that she almost floated in the air over his mouth, pink peaked breasts hovering right at mouth level.  Max twisted and turned her as he teased and tantalized each morsel, suckling and licking and occasionally biting, just so that she remembered that he could – and would – sometimes balance the pleasures he offered her with an occasional sting of his hand, or teeth, or a ruler or a paddle... depending on what the situation called for, as well as what was at hand at the time.
    She was purring.  He was quite sure of it.  He’d never heard his name purred.  “Maaaaaaaaaaax!”  It was part purr, part groan of pure pleasure.
    As his lips kept her nipples achingly taut, the fingers of his right hand began to travel towards more interesting territory, slowly making their way over her flat tummy and beyond, to that startlingly bare mound, one thick middle finger parting eagerly plump lips to delve into the hot heart of her, eager to discover the extent of her interest.  The first bud he encountered was stiff and swollen, which he counted as a very good sign, but he pressed on to part those inner lips and delved – carefully – with one gentle stroke, inside her, finding her almost alarmingly, excruciatingly tight, so much so that his cock contracted within his pants as if in a dry come.
    His bold curiosity was rewarded fourfold.  The broad tip of his finger was drenched in her slickness, and he nearly bellowed in triumph, carrying a fingerful up to that taut, aching bud and rasping over it several times, as a test, watching her response avidly.  Fawna’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head as she whimpered softly, mewling, like the purring kitten she was.
    Not letting up the constant stroking of her greedy clit, Max left her breasts in favor of slanting his mouth across hers, losing his other hand in the masses of red curls as he relentlessly drove her to a writhing, screaming, crying peak.
    The moment she began to convulse beneath his finger, he saw something he’d never seen before.  Two long, shimmering gossamer wings sprouted from her back, floating above them and beating slowly, allowing her to hover over him without his assistance.  They were rainbow colored, in places a lime green, sometimes a burntish orange, some places a bright red, others an azure blue, royal purple... it was an amazing sight, but as her pleasure faded, so did her wings, fading into her back as if they had never been and lowering her gently on top of him again.  For a moment, he questioned whether they had been, but then he knew they had.
    “Wings?” he