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My gaze drifts up from the soft flesh of his neck over to his eyes, his expression both savage and wary. Almost like…he’s afraid of me.
I lick my lips, trying to restrain myself from devouring him like an animal, then reach back and grab his cock under the water, trying to position him under me, wanting the fullness of him inside.
He immediately reaches into the water and grabs me by the wrist, ripping it away, his eyes blazing.
“No,” he says gruffly. “I can’t.”
I frown. “You can’t?” I whisper, my voice raw with desire.
“You wouldn’t like what happens to me,” he growls, swallowing hard, grip still tight on my wrist. “You’re hungry for something else, Lenore. Take it.”
He moves his head an inch, drawing my attention back to his neck.
“Are you sure?” I ask, though the itch inside me is getting painful now. I can hear his blood, smell it, and it’s whipping my nerves up into a frenzy that I don’t think I’ll be able to control. “What if you don’t like what happens to me?”
“I’ll handle it,” he says firmly. “You need to feed. I don’t want you having anyone else’s blood but mine.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes my face down onto his neck. “Do it. Bite me.”
My lips are pushed against his skin, energy already flowing from him to me, and I quickly open my mouth, exposing my teeth before sinking them into his skin, biting down hard.
He lets out a ragged whimper from the pain, but I barely hear him, and I don’t even care. All I care about is the sweet blood that’s flowing from the wound, into my mouth, hitting my tongue with sparks, filling me up with life and energy and everything I need, down to my very soul.
Solon groans and I bite him even harder, my fangs sinking deeper into his flesh, my body writhing on top of his. He’s still hard as hell and suddenly I’m hit with the uncontrollable urge to fuck and feed at the same time.
But he keeps himself just out of reach, holding my head to his neck while I suck and bite, lick and drink. His other hand slides around my waist, holding me in place.
Eventually that hand glides up over my wet skin to my breasts, thumb brushing over my nipple that’s already pebble-hard, fingers pinching, shockwaves being sent through my body.
I moan into his neck, one need being satisfied while the other being teased.
I lift my head and look at him, our faces close.
He stares at my lips, at his blood all over my mouth, but it doesn’t scare him. The heat in his eyes burns even hotter, nostrils flaring, and I can tell he’s doing everything to hold himself back.
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing. “You done?” he asks in a rough voice.
I shake my head. “No.”
Then I move in, inch-by-inch, slowly placing my lips on top of his.
His eyes are still open, still staring at me, turning black, his whole body growing tense.
Then his mouth yields and my eyes close, sinking into the kiss.
Our tongues meet, tentative and soft at first, a dance with me trying to lead, to get more from him, to free him from whatever is restraining him.
He moans into my mouth, a sound that nearly makes me come, and his hand glides down my back and then back up, through my hair, making a tight fist.
I gasp against his lips.
Jesus.
I didn’t know I could kiss and be kissed like this. Our mouths fit against each other like we were never meant to be separated, a slow decadent dream that I’m slipping further and further into. All my senses, from the way he tastes, to the way he smells, to the way those hands feel as they pull my hair and hold my waist, are beyond heightened, in their elements. His lips are soft and hard and everything I want.
Then it starts to build.
His mouth takes the lead, his movements rougher, more violent, his hold on me tighter now, his other hand slipping between my legs, fingers sliding through the water, over my clit.
I lift my head up, arching my spine, throwing my head back while he drives his fingers inside me. Music builds deep within my bones, a low, dizzying bass-driven rumble that moves my body into his hand, wanting more, so much more.
