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My heart flutters, skips. Heat builds between my legs, waiting for him.
He brings the sweater up over my head and arms, his head between my breasts as he reaches behind my back to unhook my bra. A vein running across the fullness of my breasts catches his attention, nostrils flaring as he breathes me, running the tip of his nose over my sensitive skin.
I gasp, my breasts swelling under his touch, his lips gently brushing over me as he pulls the bra away. My nipples are already in hardened peaks and he eyes them with a throaty growl before he starts licking up the side of my breast, his tongue flat and wide, his gaze locked with mine as he moves. Then he covers my nipple with his mouth, sucking me in.
Biting me.
Just for a second.
Just a pinch.
I gasp, my body stiffening from the pain as it quickly dissipates, his lips and tongue now soothing the spot, swirling around my nipple until I’m squirming underneath him.
“Sorry,” he murmurs against my skin.
I lift my head to glance down at him, and he doesn’t seem very sorry at all. A wicked look gleams in his eyes, a hint of my blood on his lips, my chest rising and falling against him.
“Do it again,” I tell him.
His brows raise in surprise, but there’s no hesitation after that. He attacks my other breast with his mouth, biting down, sucking at my skin.
“Fuck,” I cry out, my head going back. His teeth pierce the skin, but it’s a surface scratch more than anything and, like before, he’s licking the pain away with his broad, rough tongue. I make a fist in his black satin sheets, lost to the pleasure and pain, an intricate dance that only makes me want more.
Then he brings his mouth up to mine. I taste the tang of my own blood, just a bit of it, then he’s sinking his tongue deep inside until I’m melting further and further into the bed, succumbing to his kiss, body and soul.
I had no idea it would be like this. That it could be like this.
He pulls away, my lips open, tingling and yearning for him to return, my hand running through his thick, silky hair, marveling at it, that I can touch him this way, every way.
Slowly, with deliberation, he starts moving back over my collarbones, over my breasts, over my abdomen, placing wet, languid kisses as he moves down, a path that sets my skin on fire.
He stares up at me as he goes and I look into his eyes and in them I see a man caught between angel and beast, and maybe that’s what a vampire is. All I know is that right now, perhaps in this moment only, he adores me, reveres me.
I am his.
And I am safe.
Then his gaze burns hot as he grips the waistband of my leggings and underwear, peeling them off me with smooth precision, down over my hips, my thighs, my knees, discarding them to the floor, my feet already bare.
The sight of his face, that gorgeous, dangerous, perfect face between my legs makes my whole body start to tremble, waiting for him, wanting him, needing him. Bursts of hunger lash through me, and I’m not sure how patient I can be.
Meanwhile, for all his talk of not being gentle, he’s acting like he has all the time in the world. Maybe because he does.
He comes up between me, my legs parting for him, his large hands spanning the width of my thighs, showcasing how large they are. I’m not a delicate flower, but in his grip I feel like I am.
Long, slow kisses are placed inside my knees, up my inner thighs, his stubble scratching me, and I’m gasping again, the blood rushing too fast through my veins.
“I need you inside of me.” I’m practically whimpering, trapping him between my legs.
“This isn’t for you,” he says as he slides up, eyes never leaving mine, even with his face between my thighs. “This is for me.”
I close my eyes and inhale sharply, my nerves on high alert. He brings his mouth up to my pussy, pausing there. I can feel the cold of his presence, his breath, but he’s not touching me.
Holy fuck, what are you doing? I think.
Taking my time, he says inside my head, his voice so low and rich it settles into the base of my skull and unravels me a little more. Don’t forget who’s in charge here.
I grin at that, almost laughing, my heart leaping in my chest, my thighs gripping the sides of his head, as my hands make fists in his hair.
But he’s still taking his fucking time. He’s just breathing on me, blowing on me, and fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m close to coming already.
This isn’t fair.
He isn’t even touching me this time.
