Afraid she might topple, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn’t resist threading her fingers into his white-blond hair, savoring the silkiness against her bare fingers.
Before last night she’d never touched a man’s hair and, heaven help her, she still felt possessive about Yannick’s. His hair was for her to touch and stroke.
He wasn’t mindful of his fangs this time. They pricked her lips and tongue. Scratched her lightly, but she tasted a drop of her blood.
She drew back. “I wanted to wait—”
“I know,” Yannick whispered against her lips.
“I waited for you tonight. I didn’t think you would come. And Bastien did instead.”
Why she was trying to explain, she couldn’t imagine. She was a vampire hunter. It didn’t matter what she felt for him. It couldn’t matter.
Yet here she was, gathered in the arms of a vampire earl, as he kissed her senseless in front of his naked brother.
She clung tighter as Yannick moved them to the bed. Her skirt flowed off her thighs, leaving most of her legs naked, and the cool air washed over them.
Then a warm hand stroked the length of her shin. Bastien’s hand. It couldn’t be Yannick’s.
“Such delicate, tiny feet.” Bastien cradled her right foot. With a chuckle, he ran his thumb ran along her sole. Ooh, how it tickled. She laughed, squealed, and tried to pull her foot free.
Yannick laughed and her heart soared at the deep, sensual sound.
“Drop her on the bed, brother. I fancy sucking her pretty toes.”
As Yannick let her tumble onto her mattress, Bastien stretched out on her narrow bed at her feet. Candlelight highlighted his long stretch of back, the twin curves of his firm derrière, left his legs in shadow where they hung off her mattress. He gave a wicked smile, fangs gleaming, then he closed his lips around her big toe.
Yannick knelt at her feet too. An earl at her feet. Two gorgeous demons at her feet.
She pinched her arm through the sleeve of her nightdress, just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming. No, awake without a doubt.
Anticipation shivered as Yannick lifted her foot and his parted lips neared. Althea never would have dreamed that toes could be so erotically sensitive.
And it wasn’t so sinful to let them kiss her feet.
Her toe disappeared into Yannick’s warm mouth and he watched her, silver eyes filled with sensual intent. She’d intended to flash him a smile, but her face contorted as pleasure arced and her moan spoke of pure, delicious agony.
Perhaps toes weren’t so innocent after—
Oh!
They sucked and massaged and stroked and teased. Yannick stretched out as Bastien had done and her wavering gaze flicked from one man to the other. Both so beautiful. Both nude.
Two broad backs. Two perfect, muscled bottoms. Two giving, skilled mouths.
How wonderful this was.
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She closed her eyes.
Someone stopped sucking. “Do you think, brother, she’s remembering the dreams?”
Bastien. “Remembering our mouths on her nipples. They’re hard and plump, now. Two sweet breasts. One for each.” Bastien kissed each of her toes in turn. Combined with Yannick’s suction, it was a mad flurry of sensation.
She didn’t dare open her eyes. As though darkness absolved her of sin.
Oh, yes. She wanted it so.
“Which of us sucks you best, love?” Bastien again. Asking her a question she couldn’t begin to answer. “Which of us should earn at place at your breast?”
Her lids shot up. She was supposed to choose? Both men still lay at her feet. Two gorgeous, naked male demons looking like innocent pups.
Don’t try to choose if you can’t, sweet angel.
The first time Yannick had spoken in her mind tonight. The intimacy of it made her sob.
But I intend to pleasure you best and win, because I have an unfair advantage. I know the
sinful pleasures that you enjoy. If you don’t let Bastien force you to prefer one of us to the other,
we can put our mouths on both your delicious quim and your sweet ass.
Althea whimpered at the thought.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.” Lust spoke for her. She wanted them both so. Her heart raced, just as it did in her dreams. Her quim ached in need.
Do you want us to kiss you that way? To fill you with your tongues? To make you come
again and again with our mouths. Together? Do you truly want this, sweet?
Yannick was giving her a choice. Not luring her and seducing her into sin as he did in her dreams. She had one last chance to claw her way back to propriety. Her gaze met his eyes, pale as two moons, sparkling like close stars.
I’m lost
, she whispered in her head.
All sense is gone.
It must be wrong to crave…but I don’t care… I’ve always been so good. My moral
compass…it’s broken now. Fractured. Yannick, please, I don’t know—
They both rose over her, light and shadow. Their taut, muscular arms crossed over her as they braced themselves. How they both fit on her bed, she didn’t know. Their long legs tangled with hers. Her wet toes prickled as cool air wafted over her feet.
“Kiss me,” Yannick whispered. His pale blond tresses shone like silver, his lush black lashes made his eyes dark, mysterious wells.
“No, me first, my love, for I love you the most,” Bastien urged. His long, thick hair dangled over his face, glinting gold.
Yannick’s hot mouth pressed to her cheek. Bastien’s touched her earlobe on the other side.
Sharing wasn’t so simple at all. If she chose one to kiss, would she hurt the other?
She twisted and claimed Yannick’s mouth. He was the man she’d shared the most special intimacy with.
Thank you, sweet angel
. He kissed her hard and deep, teasing with his tongue.
Fingers clasped her chin and drew her mouth from Yannick’s. Bastien’s lips slid over hers.
Back and forth they kissed her, taking turns. And while one twin claimed her lips, the other suckled her neck, licked her cheek, nibbled her ear.
But Bastien cradled her cheek and gazed deep into her eyes.
Let me make love to you first,
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little dove. Let me be the first to fill you with my cock.
Bastien—
It’s her choice, brother. Being eldest doesn’t count here.
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Bastien groaned as his finger parted Althea’s sweet, sticky nether lips. But his fingers tangled with his damned brother’s.
“You are both going to put your fingers…in me at once?”
Well, she’d thought of the one act he’d never done. While making love to a woman with Yannick, they always ensured they rarely touched. They were brothers, after all. And there were some sins that even he wouldn’t embrace.
But Yannick would not back down and neither would he. Side by side, their index fingers slid into her. Bastien felt her hot fleshy walls, his brother’s bony digit. Damnation. Were it not for Yannick, she’d be gripped snug and tight around him.
She cried out in excitement and surprise and her feminine squeal sent another pulse of blood flooding to his cock. Already it stood up like a Maypole—just waiting for a maiden to dance around it.
His tastes didn’t normally run to innocents, and he knew for a fact Yannick had never deflowered a woman. Though in the ten years he’d been imprisoned, and Yannick, blast him, had roamed free, who knew what his brother had done.
Free. While he endured hell.
But revenge lay at his side, gazing at him with wide green eyes while he plunged his fingers in her boiling core.
Her hips rocked now, as both he and Yannick slid their fingers in and out. Desperate panting filled the small room—his, his brother’s, and hers. And each moist plunge of his fingers filled the room with more of Althea’s heavenly perfume.
Jesus, this was more than revenge. More than stealing the wench his brother desired.
He didn’t know if he could continue to exist without hearing her breathy moans, holding her in his arms, sharing her ecstasy.
He might share her tonight, but by moonrise tomorrow, he’d have her heart for himself alone.
His fingertips reached her maidenhead, beside his twin’s. In unspoken agreement, they drew back. He teased her slick lips, savoring her “ooh.” Ran his wet thumb over her taut little clit.
“Oh! Heavens!”
Bastien’s cock bucked at her cry. Given that he could tie up a woman and tease her for hours, or endure such torture himself, he was amazed at how desperately he wanted to slide inside Althea. If his balls grew any tighter he might start howling. And one more sweet Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 65
feminine cry and he might embarrass himself.
Ten years of imposed celibacy must be to blame.
One of them would have to go first.
Those green eyes speared him, hazy with lust, wide with trust.
Had he ever been the first to have a woman, to take her before Yannick?
Not once that he could remember. Most women flocked to his brother’s title and wealth, before discovering how he could pleasure them. And the ones he had alone…they existed in a dark world that Yannick never entered.
Bastien lifted to mount Althea, to situate his hips between her silk-soft thighs, but Yannick grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back.
She kept me from going insane, Yannick. She’s precious to me.
He saw guilt flicker over his brother’s face.
And to me, Bastien.
So what are we to do? Duel for the right to take her virginity? Since we can blow each
other away with impunity, what will be the measure? The closest ball to the heart?
Bastien pressed close to Althea and claimed her lips, catching Yannick unprepared. He flicked the buttons of her nightdress free, revealing porcelain skin, inch by inch.
There’s no way this can be decided without a battle.
He laid bare her breasts, peach perfection, and bent to nip the succulent treat, the way he’d once tasted summer’s first fruit.
I’m
willing to earn the honor of being the one she chooses.
He could share if he had to, but damnation, he wanted to be her first. Adorably sweet, she arched beneath him as his teeth bit gently into her plump flesh. He caught hold of her hand and led it toward his cock, on the verge of exploding just at the thought of her graceful hand wrapped around it.
“I can’t.”
What?
Althea shook her head and Bastien saw the tears sparkling in her eyes. “I shouldn’t. I mustn’t. I thought I could, but I can’t. Not with you both. It’s too…wrong.” She struggled to pull her hand free.
Oh bloody hell. Bastien groaned as he let go of her wrist. Why did she have to possess such power of will? Such bloody goodness?
And in a heartbeat, Yannick rolled close to her, captured her mouth and embraced her.
It’s
all right, sweet angel
, Yannick reassured.
Pain flared as she responded to his brother’s caress. One brother, apparently, was acceptable. Two…she was not quite ready for two.
Her arms had hooked around his brother’s neck. That one night Yannick and Althea had shared—the intimacy they’d built—was something he could not combat.
“I want…” she whispered, “I need…I thought I could.”
“But you aren’t ready for two lovers?” Yannick asked.
“I shouldn’t even be ready for one.”
Her lashes dropped and she coyly glanced at Yannick. Shyly she whispered, “Last night was so wonderful and beautiful. I know it’s ruined now—”
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It isn’t
, Yannick promised.
A stake to the heart couldn’t hurt so much. But what good would it do to protest? Or beg?
The key to winning her heart wasn’t to force himself on her.
Bastien hated to admit defeat, but he kissed her hand.
You’ve chosen, sweet.
Sitting up, he swung his legs off the bed, pausing just one moment. He wished she would touch him, stop him, tell him she wanted him to stay.
He waited but all he felt across his skin was the whisper of the breeze that carried the rain.
He stood.
Why his bloody twin?
Bitterness twisted in his gut. Why in Hades did she choose Yannick? Bastien has been the one on top in the bloody womb and what did it get him? Out second and always second.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He’d sauntered nude through hundreds of bedrooms—thousands. Always cocky.
Always
welcomed. Now, naked in front of Althea, Bastien understood vulnerability. But he grinned, his old, wild grin and let his fangs show—the entire sharp curved length of them.
Next to the bed, where his brother and his lovely angel lay, Bastien bent in a courtly bow.
He shifted shape and the pain of the change raged through him. His entire being screamed and molded and rearranged. Hell, he almost enjoyed the agony.
Goddamn, he didn’t care if he exploded into so much dust this time.
But he wasn’t so lucky. He took flight with the flap of large wings and soared out of the searing pain. His bloody heart still ached.
He swooped across the room and flew out into the wet embrace of the night.
She darted through the slashing rain to the shelter of the oak. Her small hands held the hood of her dark cloak in place as she hopped the deepening puddles.
Sheltered beneath the spreading branches, he drew hard on his cheroot, let the aromatic smoke float out into the night air.
The girl’s thrilling excitement flowed to him in waves, so palpable he could almost taste her emotions. As she neared, he saw the ripe, pink flush to her cheek. Heard the seductive patter of her heart and pumping blood.