Pursued by Rebecca Rivard

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He’s a Vampire Syndicate Prince. I know he’s dangerous. But I thought I could play with fire without being burned…

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He gave me another kiss and then sat back on his heels, gazing down at my naked body. The sunlight haloed his head, leaving his face in shadows.

Gabriel. My dark, seductive angel.

My breath hitched. For a long minute, he just looked, as I remained where he’d put me, hands on either side of my head, my legs stretched out along the blanket.

My breasts grew tight, heavy. A pulse beat between my thighs. There was something so hot about being open to him like this, waiting for him to touch me.

At last, he began stroking his fingers up and down my body. Pleasure slid through me, warm and lazy. I floated on it, light as air.

He gently kneed my legs open and crouched between them. His mouth replaced his fingers.
Kissing me everywhere—lips, neck, breasts, navel, the points of my hips.

When he reached my sex, he gave it another slow lick and then turned his head to nuzzle my inner thigh. I instinctively bent my legs, opening even more to him.

“There’s a vein here,” he murmured.

My mouth dried. “I remember.”

Teeth scraped over the tender skin. “Do you remember what else I said that night?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“Tell me,” he said against my thigh. “What did I say?”

I licked my lips. “You said it would feel incredible when you fed from me there. That it was how vampires bind their thralls to them. That it feels so good, the thrall will do anything to get it.”

“You do remember.” His tone was darkly satisfied.

When I lifted my head, I saw his incisors had lengthened.

The vampire was showing his fangs.

I shivered with a mix of fear and excitement. This man was a predator in a sleek, hard-muscled body, and all that power, all that strength, was focused on me.

He scraped the tips over my other thigh. So carefully.

But I jolted at the sharpness, and he licked the small wound. “Shh, Mila. It’s all right.”

He continued down my body. Sucking, nipping, licking, until I was dazed and moaning.

My fingers were tangled in my hair now, clenching and unclenching. It was the only way I could stop myself from reaching for him.

He kissed his way back up my body. “Keep your hands like that,” he ordered. “I like how it lifts your breasts to me.”

His teeth rasped over one soft curve. So delicately, I knew it would barely leave a mark.

And yet, he was marking me. Everywhere…

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