Free Department 57: Bloody Crystal by Lynne Connolly Page A

tongue into her mouth in total possession before he gripped her waist and urged her to turn around. “Put your hands on the bed.”
    Her heart thudding, she did so. He pushed her down. They were probably the first people to use this bed, if he’d had the house stripped and refurbished. Her hands sank into the soft white duvet.
    “Comfortable?”
    She nodded.
    “You won’t be.” She was naked. He wasn’t. He still wore his jeans, although he’d kicked off his canvas high-tops. They lay askew on the Oriental carpet, incongruous and untidy, making the place instantly more lived-in. She began to warm to the house, especially when he kissed down her spine right to the base. When he stroked his finger gently between the crease of her buttocks, she shuddered and opened to him. The tops of her thighs were damp with her arousal, chilling quickly when he nudged her legs apart.
    What was going on? Why didn’t he take her? When she lifted her head, she saw why. The cloudy weather gave a foil to the window, and she saw their images in the glass. While she couldn’t see in detail, she saw his head was lowered, and he was looking at her with an intensity she could almost feel.
    Belay that; she did feel it. He was projecting his need into her mind, and—oh…
    “Oh yeah.” His voice came so softly she had to strain to hear it. “You look so beautiful there. Lovely curves, and all that pink…”
    “Pink what?” Her voice sounded too high. She cleared her throat.
    “Just pink.” He touched her labia, fingered her, then pinched her clit. She jumped at the solid shock it sent through her. “Ready or not, sweetheart, here I come.”
    He grasped his cock—she saw it through their mental link—and guided it to her wet, inviting pussy. She saw them kiss when they connected, a light contraction of her opening to welcome him, and then he slipped in. Just. But he didn’t linger for long. With one violent thrust, he drove his way inside.
    Her mind went blank, her body overdosing on delight as he continued to thrust—deep, hard, and relentless. He kept his fingers on her clit, pinching and tweaking to increase the pleasure he brought her. So deep.
    “Feels good,” she managed.
    “Yes, oh fuck yes, it does.”
    Just the hard pumping of his body into hers would have brought her up, but the action of his fingers made it more intense. Her hands shook, but she braced herself more firmly. No way did she want this to stop. Little shocks gradually increased, waves of sheer sensation coursing through her body, washing her and leaving her clean.
    She no longer worried about the sounds she made, and here she didn’t have to worry about alerting neighbors, so she let rip, telling him just what he was doing, showing it with their combined minds. He responded, encouraged her, supported her. Gave her everything.
    Her cries increased, and he loved it, or so he said to her. “Never, ever stop telling me. You sound so good. You look so hot. So good, Cerys.”
    She came, her pussy clenching helplessly around his cock.
    She didn’t know how he held on, but she felt him withdraw, and then he removed his hand from her oversensitive clit and wrapped it around her waist. “Stand up. Lean against me.”
    She did. “I’ll do anything if you carry on doing what you do so well.” She turned her head to kiss him. He cupped her cheek and held it while he kissed her, and the scent of her arousal from his fingers wove around them, sent her higher. She had left her scent on him like a cat claiming its possession.
    He spun her toward him, then turned them so he backed onto the bed.
    He broke the kiss and sat. She stared down at him, the head of his cock red and wet, bathed with the juices from deep inside her body. “Do vampires take from each other?” she asked him.
    “Sometimes. But only when they want their connection to be permanent. If we do that, you’ll never be free of me, and I won’t be free of you.”
    “Do you want to be?”
    “I