Blood Secret. Sharon Page

hands coasted over her back, firmly but carefully stroking and rubbing her. He massaged her muscles.

      Closing her eyes—it felt easier to experience this with eyes shut—she gave a murmur of pleasure.

      His fingers kneaded their way down her back. Each stroke made her relax more.

      Suddenly Greystone lifted her bottom. Something slightly scratchy brushed against her cheeks—it was the thick hair at his crotch. His penis stroked her private place, and she was so wet, the taut head immediately slid in. She turned her head and saw him. He was balanced on the bench on his knees, and her bottom was lifted up in the air.

      He thrust into her, in long, slow strokes, his penis driving deep. His hips bumped against her bottom with each thrust. He spread her legs wide, holding her with his hands to open her for him. It was rather erotic. She clung to the bench and focused on the way her bottom jiggled when his pubis hit her. She felt the sway of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and long.

      Heat washed over her. She was panting, working toward her pleasure, sucking in breaths.

      “Let me play with you here, Lady Lucy.”

      His fingers came around her hip and plied between her nether lips. He stroked her clit, and she gasped in shock. The orgasm slammed into her almost instantly.

      She shook with it. Her body was so hot ... she was melting.. . .

      Heavens, her muscles were jerking and jolting. She was changing.

      She tried to pull away, but he held her to him. He had plunged deep and was gripping her, so she would ride through her climax on him.

      She had to escape. But he was too strong and he would not let her go.

      Panic made her desperate. “Please. You must let me go. I need to ... I must go to the retiring room. Please!”

      His hand stroked slowly down her back. “It is all right, my dear. I know what is happening to you. I know what you are.”

      She blinked. Dazed from lovemaking and panic, shaking from the strain of trying to resist the change, she wasn’t certain she had heard correctly. “What do you mean?”

      “You are a dragon. I know that. I know your family are dragons.”

      She tried again to scurry away from him, but he held her too tightly. How could he know? Jack must have told him. But she could not allow him to know. She had to make him believe it was not true. “I’m not a dragon. I am a female. I mean, I am human. A properly brought up lady. Whatever you were told about dragons, I can assure you it was not true. How could it be? That is the stuff of fairy tales—”

      She broke off. How could he have believed it so easily? How could he say it so calmly now? Why would anyone accept such a mad and preposterous story?

      Greystone tipped his hips back, letting his erection slide free. For a moment she had the hope she could flee, but he pulled her back, drawing her onto his lap. “That’s what you are trying to force yourself to be. You are trying to fight your dragon nature.”

      She bolted up from his lap and landed on the floor. Her breasts jiggled but she didn’t care that she was naked now. She wrapped her arms around herself. “It is not true. There is no such thing as people who turn into dragons. Of course it is impossible for a woman to be both a lady and a dragon.”

      “That is exactly what you believe, isn’t it?”

      How gently he spoke.

      “But you are both, aren’t you, Lady Lucy? You are both a responsible lady and a fiery dragon. And the reason I know what you are is because I am not merely a duke. I am a vampire.”

      A vampire—could it be possible? She reared back. She knew of vampires—they were undead creatures, not immortal shifters like dragons were. Vampires tended to keep together, just as dragons did, and witches did, and demons. She had been told there were peers of the realm who were really vampires.

      “It’s all right, my dear. I won’t hurt you. I don’t intend to drink your blood.”

      “You don’t?” She hugged herself. “Are you sure? Is this why you lured me here?” If he attacked her, she would have to shift shape and fight him as a dragon. A vampire would be far too strong for her otherwise—

      Suddenly she realized she had controlled her shift into dragon form. It hadn’t happened. When he had told her he was a vampire, she had forgotten what was happening to her body. And somehow that had helped her control the change.

      He regarded her with amusement, which she found preposterous at this moment—when they were discussing drinking her blood.

      “With you, love,” he growled, “I would prefer to feed on sex.”

      She frowned. “That’s not possible. Is it?”

      He grinned. “For me, it is. And you, my beautiful Lady Lucy, promise to be a sumptuous feast.” Then he sobered, his eyes serious but still mirror-like. She now knew why his eyes glittered so much—it was because he was one of the undead.

      “You are stunningly beautiful, love,” he said. “Don’t try to hide what you are. Being a dragon gives you incredible power.” His smile dazzled her again.

      “But,” she said, warily, “I am not certain if it gives me enough power to subdue a hungry vampire.”

      With eyes twinkling, he murmured, “What would make you feel safe with me?”

      She swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

      “You could tie me up.”

      She jolted. “Tie you up?”

      “Mmm. Bind my hands together or tie me to the bench. Would that make you feel comfortable? I give you my word that I won’t hurt you, but I understand, love, why you might be scared.”

      Would it make her feel more at ease? She was not sure. But he appeared to be so excited by the idea. Flushing, she nodded.

      “All right, my dear. Let me teach you how to tie me up.”

      She had no idea it would prove so arousing to tie the duke’s wrists together.

      Lucy squirmed on the bench, very wet, very aroused, and quite pleased with her handiwork. Looping the ropes around his wrists, she had tied his hands together in front of him, then, following his instructions, she had crisscrossed the ropes, wrapping layer after layer, until he was well and truly captured.

      He teasingly batted his eyelashes at her. “I wish I could touch you—stroke your silken cheek, push back your unruly curls, stroke your lush, beautiful mouth—but unfortunately I’m a little tied up right now.”

      It made her smile. It banished nerves and doubt. She didn’t care that he was a vampire. How could she, when he accepted she was a dragon?

      He wiggled his bound hands and flashed a grin. “Come up here, my love, and sit on my face. Even though my hands are bound, I can use my tongue to pleasure you.”

      A hot flush touched her cheeks. But to her surprise, as she stepped over the bench, and carefully walked until her quim was over his face, he winked. “A few more inches. Then lower down so I may kiss you.”

      Strange how she listened to his commands. She couldn’t quite figure out what the duke wanted, and it made her willing to play his game. Heavens, it made her hungry to play his game. Her breath came fast, her heart raced, her legs trembled.

      She lowered and the duke licked a place behind her quim—a bridge of flesh that made her moan helplessly. His tongue darted to the entrance of her bottom and lightly stroked.

      Stars exploded before her eyes.

      He dropped back. “Do you know, my love, how sensitive your bottom is?” he asked hoarsely. “You have the most lush and beautiful arse I’ve ever seen. I would love to give you an orgasm by pleasuring it.”

      “Pleasuring