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Conall pulled away from her with a fierce scowl. “Samia wants a blood rite, but not to first blood.”
“To the death.” Although that sent a jolt of fear through her, she grew angrier. All of this because Samia couldn’t take a little rejection? What else had Vivienne ever done to the bitch except take Conall? Each time she’d lashed out had been because Samia had provoked her.
“It won’t happen, Vivienne.” Again, he was using his authoritative voice, the voice that said if anyone argued with him the person had better be prepared to meet him outside, or wherever.
“Because you won’t allow it.” It wasn’t a question. She knew he wouldn’t give Samia the blood rite. She also knew Samia wasn’t going to stop demanding one. Vivienne wasn’t sure exactly how long she would be staying here—she passed a guilty look to Conall—but she wasn’t planning on bickering and arguing with Samia every step of the way.
“What does that mean?” he demanded.
She cleared her mind again, fighting the urge to shake her head. They were going to have to set up some rules about mind-reading.
“Seriously, can you please stay out of my mind unless we’re…you know?”
His face relaxed, and an arrogant brow went up even as his lips curved. “I know? What do I know? Tell me, Vivienne. I should stay out of your mind unless we’re…?”
Making love? His voice caressed her like a lover’s touch. Instantly, her nipples peaked. Fucking? She shivered, feeling heat pool between her legs at the coarseness of his words.
“Yes. That. So stay out of my mind unless we’re doing that.” She sounded breathless, probably because he was across the table, robbing her of it.
“You said you weren’t planning on fighting Samia every step of the way.”
She regained control of her body. “I never said that. You read my mind again.”
He ignored the chastising last word. “What did you mean?”
“That I’ll stay out of her way,” she replied easily, shrugging her shoulders as if it didn’t matter. She was going to stay away from Samia, but she was almost certain Samia wouldn’t return the favor.
Conall stared at her for a long time, and then his body relaxed and he picked up his fork.
Vivienne looked at his plate, where a barely touched ribeye steak and a large serving of mashed potatoes and gravy lay. It was probably cold by now. Standing, she made her way over to him, and sat on his lap. Sitting across from a naked Conall had been wreaking havoc on her senses from the moment she’d started eating, but with her stomach appeased, and their subsequent conversation on making love, she was feeling only one thing. Need.
The fork fell from his fingers as his hands closed around her waist. He pressed his face into her neck. Something poked at her back, and Vivienne felt an answering surge of heat rush through her body. She almost forgot the reason she’d sat on his lap, instead of dragging him to the floor.
Regaining control of her wits, she picked up his fork, stuck it into the mashed potatoes, and lifted it to his lips. They parted and she placed the fork against his tongue, pulling it back only when his lips had closed over it.
Feeling bold, she touched her tongue to the fork. “Good?” she asked softly, licking at the tines of the fork once more.
Conall’s eyes darkened and she smiled secretly, turning around to get another serving. This time, she placed the fork in her mouth, savoring the taste of the creamy potatoes with black pepper, parsley and a pinch of salt. Removing the fork, she held it out to him, feeling her nipples tighten when he slowly licked the tines.
Vivienne turned back to the mashed potatoes, intent on scooping up some more and feeding it to him, but a hand snaked out and caught it. After a slight tug and flick of his wrist, she heard the fork land somewhere against the tiled floor.
“Aren’t you hungry, Conall?” She was surprised to hear the blatant seduction in her voice. She’d never wanted to seduce anyone before, so she’d never practiced, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to seduce him every time she saw him. Or be seduced by him.
He didn’t answer; his eyes told her what she needed to know. They flashed yellow moments before he pushed the chair back and pulled her against his body, effectively dragging her to her feet. When his lips crashed down on hers, she strained up against him, parting her lips for the deep thrust of his tongue.
Oh God, the man tasted…sinful! Addictively sinful. Too good. His hands slipped into her underwear and the running tights that clung to her, cupping her bottom and heisting against his jutting hardness.
