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I undid the button of his pants, eased his zipper down over his cock. It surged against his boxer briefs.
Somebody was eager. I shot him a triumphant look up from beneath my lashes.
His chest rumbled in displeasure. “Do it.”
I trailed my fingers over his hard length through his boxers. The tip had already dampened the nylon placket.
A sense of my own power filled me. Oh, yeah. He wanted this—wanted me—bad.
I slid my fingers into his boxers. The skin of his abdomen was vampire-cool, but not here. Here he was warm and smooth and thick.
I removed my fingers from his boxers and tugged on the waistband. “Take these off.”
He grunted assent and rose to his feet, me still kneeling before him. He bent and took my mouth in a hard, wet kiss.
“Don’t move,” he said, releasing me.
He pulled off his T-shirt and slipped off his boxers before lowering himself to the couch in front of me again. God, I loved his body: hard-muscled and warm-skinned, his legs long and strong, his chest dusted with wiry black hair.
A liquid rush between my inner thighs made me press them together, and he noticed.
Of course, he noticed.
His nostrils flared and his lids lowered in a hungry, I’m-going-to-devour-you-little-girl expression.
My body responded, mindless and needy. The heat between my legs expanded to my belly, my breasts. My nipples pushed against the filmy bra, aching to be touched.
“Take off your shirt,” he said, and waited as I wriggled out of it.
He studied my breasts for a few seconds, then, as if reading my mind, he brought his hands up, shaping them, squeezing them, toying with the nipples. I was so sensitive that it was both pleasure and pain.
“So pretty,” he said, almost to himself.
He tweaked them hard, and I flinched and moaned. It hurt, but in a good way.
He cupped my chin. “Too much?”
I shook my head. “I liked it.”
His thumb rubbed over my lower lip. “You look so beautiful kneeling for me. You make me want to do such bad things to you.”
Yes, please.
A dizzying wave of desire gripped me. My heart thumped, its rhythm echoing the pulsing in my core.
Talon released me and sat back, spreading his arms along the couch again. His eyes snagged mine. “Suck me, pretty girl.”
I fisted the base of his cock and sucked the tip into my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his fingers tighten on the couch back. I took him as deep as I could, then pulled back before taking him deep again.
“Mm,” I said, letting the words vibrate around his cock.
His groan was my reward. “That’s it. Just like that.”
I continued working him with my lips, mouth, and one hand. With my other hand I cupped his stones, squeezing and caressing them.
It wasn’t an apology anymore. Or, it wasn’t only an apology.
It was me demonstrating how much I loved him. A gift from me to him.
