The Purest of the Breed (The Community) (45 page)

So now, with worries behind them and the day’s festivities over, Marissa and her ultra-hot hubby were topping things off with some great, calorie-burning sex.

Groaning, Marissa pumped up and down on top of Dev faster. He was so big inside her, so hot and impossibly solid.

Dev buried his fangs into her throat erotically deep, and she moaned louder against the hard, hungry draw of his mouth. He surged his hips upward, the friction of his long, thick member building an inferno of desire low in her belly. Her spine melted as the first pleasurable flood of Dev’s Fiinţă turned into a deluge of ecstasy. Her head swirled, and the living room sparkled brilliantly around her, every color glowing. A strained plea for more broke from her lips, and she drove her hips up and down frantically on Dev’s—

He grabbed her waist and stopped her, yanking his fangs out of her throat. “Hey, hey, hey,” he protested breathlessly. “Doc says we gotta be careful of your cervix while you’re pregnant, Riss.” With his hands on her hips, he slid her off his erection.

“Wait,” she panted. “I’ll be careful. Don’t stop.”

He tipped her carefully down onto the carpet.

“No, Dev, come on…”

“Simmer down now.” He landed on his hands and knees over her, looking vaguely like the Human Torch from
The Fantastic Four
, his shoulders and chest stained with streaks of red that were, apparently, the result of some practical joke he refused to tell her about.

“Honey…” She lifted her pelvis to him. “Please.”

He set a hand on her belly and gently pressed her back down. “I’m going to take care of you, sweetheart, don’t worry.” He bent his head and brushed his lips across her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her navel, then rained a path of soft kisses toward her springy triangle of curls.

She squirmed restlessly, missing his fullness inside her. She twined a fist into his hair. “Come back here.”

“Don’t think so,” he murmured. “Your little honey pot’s so good right after I’ve fed.” He pushed her thighs apart and sank down between them, inhaling deeply. “So wet,” he moaned, then covered the entire slit of her sex with his open mouth.

She cried out and shuddered, her hand falling away from his hair as he began to devour her. His tongue thoroughly explored the slick contours of her sex, the moist heat of it delving into her shivery opening, then returning to the wet folds that surrounded it, again and again.

She groaned low in her throat and went boneless. Was there anything hotter than a man who truly loved the taste and smell of a woman? The way Dev took her so voraciously, he was one of them, and it always, instantly sent her into towering heights of pleasure. Her sheath throbbed in exquisite pain, clenching tight, tighter… “Oh. Oh.” She took hold of her knees and pulled her legs back, shamelessly opening herself wider to him. “I’m going to come, Dev. Yes…”

“Ah, good.” He reared above her. “That means your nipples are nice and—”

“Devid! My God, what’s wrong with you? Quit stopping!”

“You’re coming too fast,” he said, lapping his tongue over the erect bud of her nipple. “And I’m not done with you, yet.”

Her growl of frustration melted into a moan of agonized ecstasy as he began to suckle her, lavishing attention on the pert nipples he so openly adored. His lips tugged on her, his tongue rolling over the crinkled tip, sending heat spearing from her nipple down to her womb. Her spine lifted on its own. A little pulsation rippled along her sheath, and a raw sound pushed passed her lips.

Her husband’s cue for more torture, evidently.

Still kissing her nipple, his hand curved into the silky vee of her sex. He pushed a finger inside her, drew out her lubrication, and caressed every swollen petal with it, skimming over her clitoris, then away, teasing it again, then drifting to another part of her.

She panted urgently.

He lifted his head from her nipple and gasped a breath, his pupils huge and fathomless. “I’m nearly insane with how good you smell right now.”

The deep muscles inside her tensed and ached. “Then quit being a pain.”

“Yeah, all right.” He dropped down between her legs again and tongued her clitoris.

She jerked and nearly screamed.

“You’re so creamy now, Riss. I love it.” He penetrated her with his finger again, and her thighs shook, her breasts heaving rapidly. Pressing his face against her, he licked her with slow, languid strokes, over and over, his soft goatee brushing against her, his finger a steady in-and-out friction inside her body.

Her eyes rolled nearly into the back of her head as her nipples tingled and sharpened. The beginnings of her orgasm coursed through her on an undulating wave and then the muscles in her pelvis clamped hard, her climax crashing through her on an intense eruption of ecstasy. A low noise came out of her as the lingering traces of Fiinţă in her body strengthened the pulsations of her orgasm into something surreal. Shiny lights dotted the sides of her vision and for one amazing moment, it felt like her body soared.

“Oh, yeah,” Dev growled, rising above her. His arms hooked the backs of her knees and he toppled her to the carpet, plunging inside her, not too deeply, but the size of him still filled and stretched her with such power and heat another orgasm rolled instantly through her. He made a guttural noise as her sheath clutched him, and she felt his member throb in answer.

“Ah, hell. Good thing you’ve already come because I…” His voice trailed off on a hard exhale, the movement of his hips already turning jerky. “Shit, shit, shit.” He thrust faster, driving just short of the entrance to her womb on every stroke. His lids drooped low and his nostrils flared.

She detonated for a third time, and he stiffened, letting out a ragged shout. His face contorted into an expression of savage pleasure, his shaft spasmed inside her, then with a long, rushing hiss, he sank down on top of her.

Their chests moved together hurriedly as they fought to catch their breaths.

“Oh, God, Dev,” she moaned. “That was fantastic.” She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Pounding, pounding…

Dev lifted his head. “Go away!” he shouted.

She whisked her eyes open. Someone was knocking on their front door…?

“Dev,” Gábor called from the other side. “Bro, if I’m interrupting something, I’m sorry, but open up. This is important.”

Cursing, Dev pulled out of her and rose, trailing his fingers lightly over her belly as he did; he probably touched their child thirty times a day.

She rolled to her knees and fumbled her dress on over her head. Her underwear was still looped around her ankle.

“Why don’t you go upstairs, Riss.” Dev hauled on his pants and tugged his scrunched-up shirt down.

Gábor pounded again. “Nichita!”

“You’d better answer it,” she said, pushing to her feet and yanking up her panties.

Dev crossed to the door and yanked it open. “Jesus, Pavenic. What gives?”

Gábor stepped just inside their living room. “Hey, Marissa. Sorry,” he repeated, then focused on Dev, his usual devil-may-care expression gone. “Tonĩ wants you at the hospital right away.”

Instantly sobering, Dev grabbed one of his suede boots from by the couch. “Shit, what’s going on?”

“Arc and Thomal just got back and…” Gábor ran a hand over the prickles of his buzz cut. “Something happened to Thomal.”

Marissa inhaled with difficulty. “Dear God.”

Lips white, Dev snatched up his other boot and shoved his foot into it. “What the hell do you mean
something happened
? Is he injured?”

“No. Uh, some chick…” Gábor’s face reddened and his lips twisted. “Ah, shit, Dev. Some chick really messed him up.”

The End

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Author’s Notes

The Romanian history mentioned in this book is true to the best of my research. Carol I of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen and Elisabeth of Wied were actual historical figures. They were proclaimed first King and Queen of Romania on 26 March 1881, following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire in the Russo-Turkish War (1877-78) in which Romania earned her independence. Nicolai Pavlovich Kridener was commander of the 9th Russian Army Corps in this war, and Ion Brătianu was the Romanian Prime Minister during this time period. Elena Văcărescu (mentioned in this book as Pettrila’s friend) was Queen Elisabeth’s favorite lady-in-waiting and like a daughter to her; the royal couple remained childless after the death of their only daughter, Maria.

Vlad III, the Impaler (1431-1476), was also an actual historical figure and the inspiration—as many of you surely know—for the Dracula character in Bram Stoker’s famous novel. Vlad II, father of Vlad the Impaler, received the surname ‘Dracul’ after being inducted into the
Order of the Dragons
: Draculă actually means son of Dracul.

While I was writing this book, I had the pleasure of traveling to Romania, where I visited many of the places I wrote about and enjoyed numerous variations of the Dracula legend. I saw firsthand Peleş Castle in Sinaia, surely the most fairytale-like castle in all the world, and I walked the ruins of the Princely Palace in Târgovişte, climbing to the top of the fully intact Chindia Tower. I also tracked down the Văcărescu Estate in the same town (amazing that we managed that with the language barrier). The remains of this mansion consist of nothing more than four pillars and half a domed roof tucked away, forgotten, at the back of a children’s playground (unbelievable). The surrounding trees were home to a hauntingly large number of black crows. Transylvania as a whole, and the Carpathian Mountains especially, were as atmospheric as their reputation implies.

In the interests of historical correctness, I should tell you that both the Văcărescu Estate and the Princely Palace seemed to be out of use during the time frame of my book.

* * *

The Community Series continues
! If you enjoyed Dev and Marissa’s story in THE PUREST OF THE BREED, please continue to follow the gritty adventures of the Vârcolac warriors. In Book Three of the series, DEEP IN THE HEART, Thomal Costache goes head-to-head with a Topside Om Rău female, and Nỵko Brun finally gets a chance at love, which his past threatens to undo.

Thanks again. And happy reading!

About the Author

I’ve always been fascinated by men who make their way by their weapons, from every kind of ancient warrior to modern day soldiers. I suppose that’s why I married a man who used to saddle up on an H-60 Seahawk helicopter strapped with Hellfire missiles and spend his days fighting bad guys. Now I put my imagination to work writing about tough, but sensitive, heroes who wield swords, knives, guns, and their bare fists…and, of course, the women who tame them!