Free Blood Rose by Sharon Page Page B

began to sway. Her nether curls were soaked.
    Footsteps sounded behind them—the click of boot heels on wood in an impatient stride. In an instant, Lord Sommersby was at her side.
    “What the hell are you doing, Swift?” he snapped. He pushed Swift’s hand away from her breast. But his settled on her stomach, on the belt of her robe. For just a heartbeat and then left.

    Blood Rose ©Sharon Page 2007 Email: [email protected] 33

    Drake Swift merely laughed—his low, dangerous laugh. “Claiming my prize. Actually I’m avoiding suspicion.”
    The words claiming and prize hit like Serena a douse of cold water. Was that how he saw her—a woman to seduce because he’d rescued her? Was she just a reward of battle?
    She stepped away from them both. And caught her breath.
    Over Lord Sommersby’s shoulder, Serena could see one of the vampires open the falls of his breeches and pull out his cock. It was dusky brown, the engorged head purplish and thick. One violent thrust and he was inside, and the woman was weeping in pleasure as he banged his hips mercilessly against hers.
    The other vampire held the woman up from behind—with his palms beneath her breasts, cupping them. He grinned at Serena, and she felt her cheeks catch fire.
    “Care to join us? An orgy would be a fine diversion.” He spoke affably but lust burned in his reflective eyes.
    Lord Sommersby’s lips were grim, his brown eyes almost black. She sensed his rage. Drake Swift stepped around her and shook his head. “Not tonight, my friend. Another perhaps.” Swift turned to her. In the same jovial voice, he asked, “And where is your room, maid? I’ve had enough teasing for one night.”
    The perfect exit line. Her voice faltered on hers. “This—this way, sir.”
    By the time they’d reached the stairway door, the vampires and their lady had vanished into a room. A groaning bed could be heard. And each frantic moan they made pricked Serena’s legs like an arrow.
    Sommersby turned the door handle, revealing steep steps descending into complete blackness.
    But before they could step inside, a door opened directly across from them. A vampire stood in the doorway.
    Before Serena could think, Lord Sommersby wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Drake Swift’s erection nudged her bottom—she realized they’d cuddled up to her to hide the open door. She could barely breathe. Lord Sommersby’s gorgeous face lowered—his wide, hard lips came down over hers. It wasn’t like the fierce open-mouthed kisses she saw from the gallery. This was a slow kiss, and his lips slanted over hers with unhurried desire. Hot, wet, and so commanding. Stubble brushed, his tongue teased, his breath joined with hers, and everything fell away from her, leaving her clinging to a kiss.
    Her legs splayed, her body instinctively pushing against Sommersby’s erection, the long, unyielding ridge of it. Mr. Swift pressed against her, his lips on neck. She was book-ended by their massive erections!
    Time stopped, and when his lordship drew away, when Drake stepped back, they left her spellbound.
    The door closed with a click and reality roared in. The vampire had returned to his lover. They were alone again. Serena’s lips yearned for another kiss. She ached everywhere—mouth, nipples, quim. Her thighs were slick with her juices, her nipples taut.
    But her goal was so close. “Downstairs,” she insisted.
    Mr. Swift went first. She heard the creak of the stair treads. Taking a deep breath, she followed, and the narrow stairway seemed to close in on her as she descended. Only the faintest glimmer of light showed at the very top—a touch of moonlight that turned Mr. Swift’s hair to silver and shimmered along the folds of his black cape.
    “Is this library worth the risk, Miss Lark?” Lord Sommersby growled. He filled the stairwell behind her. She was trapped between the two of them—cocky scoundrel Mr. Swift ahead and the dangerous, guarded, taciturn Earl