“You did say not to hold back,” he reminded her and captured her hips in his hands, pulling them up.

Her heart-shaped ass drew back, and her thighs spread.

“Good girl,” he praised.

She moaned when he slipped his hand between her cheeks and along her cleft before he thrust a finger into her warm slit.

“I’m gonna fuck you from behind. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” The word was more moan than voice.

He positioned himself at her center, pulling out his finger and guiding his hard shaft to her glistening folds. Her skin was red and swollen, but he wouldn’t give her reprieve. She could take him.

“When you’re on your hands and knees, I have complete control over you. I can fuck you as hard as I want to. You’ll be at my mercy.”

“Yes … oh, God, yes …”

Zane drove into her, ramming his rod into her to the hilt so hard, her entire body lifted and moved a couple of inches toward the headboard. He gripped her hips harder and pulled her back, impaling her so his entire length was buried in her.

“Again,” she spurred him on.

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Zane repeated his action and found a rhythm that was driving him quickly toward the abyss. But he couldn’t allow himself release before he’d made her come. Releasing her right hip, he slid his hand over her stomach and down to her nest of curls, finding her clit.

Fully engorged, it peaked from beneath its hood. Drawing juices from her pussy, he moistened his finger and rubbed it over her sensitive organ, eliciting a pronounced moan from Portia.

“Oh, God!” she gasped.

Zane rubbed his thumb over it again, back and forth, then in a circle, steadily increasing the pressure. He watched for her reactions and honed his caress to her preference, all the while thrusting deep and hard into her from behind.

When suddenly her interior muscles clenched around him, it hit him out of nowhere. His cock convulsed inside her, spewing his seed into her womb as she continued to milk him. He only slightly eased the pressure on her clit, allowing her to ride the waves that wracked her body. When they slowly subsided, he caressed the responsive bundle of nerves again, taking her over the edge once more until she finally collapsed beneath him.

Refusing to leave her body, he rolled to the side, taking her with him. He pressed her cute ass into his groin, keeping himself lodged deep inside her. Her back molded to his chest as she sighed contently.

Zane pulled the blanket over them and wrapped his arms around her.

“Zane,” she murmured languidly.

“Yes, baby girl?” He smoothed her hair back behind her ear.

When she didn’t answer, he craned his neck to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, and her even breath confirmed that she was asleep.

Asleep in his arms, trusting him to keep her safe. A virgin no more.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Quinn paid the cabbie and jumped out of the taxi, waiting until it disappeared down the hill before he walked back two blocks and turned into the next street, blending into the shadows of the large trees that lined it. Paranoia was hard to shake, and his years as a vampire had taught him never to let his guard down, even if he had no reason to believe that he was being followed. The last thing he wanted to do was to put one of his fellow vampires in jeopardy, particularly when he was here to ask for a favor.

Just because Zane had disappeared with the girl didn’t mean that his other problems had just vanished with him. Finding out where the assassin had come from was still paramount, and once Quinn had a lead on that, he could use it to force Zane to come back. He knew his friend well enough to realize that once he had crucial information about Müller’s whereabouts, nothing could keep Zane from pursuing his ultimate goal: revenge. Not even a piece of ass as enticing at Portia—he hoped.

With a sigh, he stopped in front of the modern home that sat high on Twin Peaks. Its floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around two sides of the house, the back reaching into the mountain behind it. While impressive, it felt by no means out of place in this neighborhood. Just like a vampire’s home was meant to be: possessing all the amenities necessary for a comfortable life, yet fitting in and not attracting any unwanted attention.

Quinn walked up to the entrance door and rang the bell. It took only a moment before it opened, yet it wasn’t Thomas who greeted him, but Nina, Amaury’s hot-headed mate. Her blond curls were tousled, and she looked slightly out of breath. Her sweat smelled sweet and ever so tempting. He could only imagine how her blood must taste, but he would never know for sure how rich and delicious it was. Only Amaury did. And he would kill anybody who touched her.