Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 283

Chapter 283: Kiss and make up_Part 3

Belle had long yearned for her husband, but his reluctance to touch her, born from the fear of hurting her, had kept her from ever pushing him into more whenever they lay in bed together at night. At one point, she’d begun to believe he might never make another attempt to be with her again.

But now, with him lying between her parted thighs and his thick, strong shaft filling her, every nerve in her body burned with the fire of a long-starved desire.

They had been married for a year now, and Belle had grown more experienced in bed than she had been in those early months. With a husband like Rohan, it was only natural, and in this moment, she used everything she had learned.

She lifted her hips to meet him, her body remembering his rhythm like a secret language only they understood, one they’d spoken a thousand times. She rocked into each deep thrust, guiding him with instinct, already knowing exactly where and how she wanted him, exactly what her body craved most.

"Rohan..." she moaned his name as she arched her back.

"I want to...oh, love ... I want to see this ... us..." He looked down at the place where their bodies were joined, where gold met fair, where male met female. He made a circular, grinding motion with his hips. It robbed Belle of breath. Her throat arched. But she couldn’t close her eyes, even though the sublime ecstasy of it commanded her to.

Rohan rode her hard at first, a rush of pent-up need driving him. Then he slowed, rolling his hips deep, savoring the way her breath hitched with each press inside her.

His arms braced on either side of her, muscles straining with control. He kissed her swollen lips, biting at her mouth, trailing down to her throat, where he left dark love bites in his wake. He licked the soft curve of her shoulder, her chest, tasting her sweet, clean skin, still faintly scented with milk and something wholly feminine.

Once the frenzy began to ebb, he grew gentler, more reverent than playful. He gathered her long hair in his hands, draping it across his shoulder like silk. He stroked it, fisted it, kissed it, as though worshipping every inch of her.

His hands moved to her waist, then her hips, gripping her tightly as he thrust deeper, harder. She gasped, her thighs trembling, nails clawing at his back. Her moans broke against his ear, hot and desperate, urging him closer to the edge.

She came first, body arching, eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open in a soundless cry as pleasure crashed over her. Her inner muscles clenched down around him so tightly that he couldn’t hold back any longer.

With a broken groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came with her, his release shuddering out in thick, pulsing waves. He held her tight through it, face pressed to her neck, whispering her name like a prayer.

Their bodies stayed joined, damp with sweat and trembling, as the storm passed.

Rohan didn’t move right away. He just lay there, still inside her, letting the weight of what they shared settle around them, this woman who had carried his child, this wife who still fit him perfectly, as though made only for him.

Still trying to calm down, Rohan felt her arms slip around him, her fingers stroking along his back in slow, soothing trails. Then they dipped boldly lower, gliding over the curve of his firm bottom. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

The unexpected touch made him tense all over again, his shaft, still buried deep inside her, began to thicken once more in response.

When she gave him a teasing squeeze and rolled her hips against his, the friction sent a fresh bolt of heat straight through him. He groaned low into the crook of her neck, voice hoarse with renewed hunger.

"Pervert," he growled into her skin, but the accusation melted against her soft laugh.

He drew back just enough to see her smile, then caught her mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and heat.

Without a word, he began to move again.

He thrust into her slowly at first, deliberately, letting her feel every inch of him as he moved within her slick warmth. The rhythm built between them like a tide, strong and inevitable, until he was moving faster, harder, driving into her with raw, unfiltered need.

She clung to him, gasping, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he took her again, like he couldn’t get enough of her, as though two months apart had starved him, just like it had starved her and made her want more.

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