“Forgive me,” he said, stroking his jaw, “as I’mquiteadvanced in years and my memory is unreliable at best. But I could’ve sworn I ordered you to strip. Did I not?”
“You did, Mr. Redthorne. I’m sorry.” With a mischievous grin, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside, gifting him with the sight of her full, perfect breasts, dark pink nipples hardening at the barest brush of the car’s air conditioning.
She removed the matching panties next, slowly dragging them down her long legs.
Before she could set them aside, Dorian’s hand shot out, gesturing like a greedy child at the cookie jar. “Mine.”
She tossed the panties to him, and he caught them and brought them to his mouth, inhaling deeply.
Fuck… The heady scent of her desire almost made him come. He wanted to blur into her space and bury himself between her thighs, right bloody now.
But… no. He’d just gotten her back. And thanks to rush-hour traffic, they had two long hours before they reached Ravenswood, trapped together behind the darkly tinted windows, nothing to do but reacquaint themselves with their favorite sinful delights.
Naked before him, Charlotte leaned back against the soft leather, arms at her sides, her legs slightly parted.
Dorian took a moment to drink her in, his gaze raking over every inch of newly bared flesh, heart slamming against his ribs, cock straining behind his zipper.
“Anything else, Mr. Redthorne?” she asked, further parting her thighs to reveal the dark, wet heat at her center, already glistening with desire.
Dorian unfastened his pants and slid his hand down the front, finally unleashing his cock, hard and eager for her.
Across the darkened space, Charlotte let out a soft gasp and bit her lower lip, shifting on the leather seat as if it was suddenly difficult for her to sit still.
Her eyes glazed, and he flashed a smirk, wondering if she was recalling the last time she’d taken it in her mouth.
Dorian certainly was.
“Come to me, Charlotte,” he ordered.
Charlotte hesitated, a silent war waging in her eyes, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
“Is there a problem, Ms. D’Amico?” Dorian teased. “Something you find… unsatisfactory?”
“Damn,” she whispered, the smile finally breaking through in earnest. “You’re a very bad influence, Mr. Redthorne. I’m supposed to be on the VDD.”
“VDD?”
“Vampire dick detox,” she said, as if it made perfect sense.
Dorian laughed. “I see. And how’s that working out for you, love?”
“Itwasworking out just fine, until you…” She gestured at his cock, still fisted tightly in his hand.
“The VDD,” he mused. “Well, thisisan unfortunate turn of events. But not entirely unworkable.” He stroked himself once, twice, long and slow, her eyes following the movements of his fist. “I suppose we’ll have to get creative.”
Charlotte sighed, nibbling again on that plump lower lip.
Dorian wanted to bite her.
Butthatwould have to wait.
She reached for him, already moving from her seat, ready to follow his commands.
“Easy, love,” he teased. “You’re on a restricted diet, and I respect that.”
“Dorian, I—”
“Dorian?”
