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“Beg?” I finally manage to squeeze out.
A cocky grin tugs at his sensual lips. “I guess you can also just ask. Nicely.”
“Nicely?”
“Good enough,” he murmurs and dips his head, slanting his lips across mine.
Holy overactive ovaries. Now I feel like someone has taken the little bits of the exploded computer and began putting the pieces back together, paying special attention to the erogenous zones.
The kiss is hungrier than the one last night.
More primal.
My knees start to feel weak.
He must notice. Still kissing me, he backs me toward the couch, and as I plop backward onto it, he leans over me, lips brushing my ear as he murmurs roughly, “I wanted to bend you over the table at Starbucks when I first saw you.”
Error. Error. Hormone overload. Speaking functions compromised. Reboot required.
Losing my head completely, I ball his shirt in my fist and drag him on top of me.
The coiled muscles press firmly against my body.
We resume kissing.
My hand slides through his thick, silky hair.
He nibbles on my lip.
I suck on his tongue.
Steam collects between my skin and clothes. I want them off, so I begin to unbutton my shirt.
He leans slightly back, pupils dilating impossibly wide.
I slip out of my top.
He rips his shirt clean off, sending buttons flying like bullets across the room. Left in a white t-shirt, he strips that off too.
Video buffer overrun. Graphics card overclocked.
Vlad must spend serious time at the gym. That or his body was sculpted in ancient Greece. The hard-quilted muscles gleam with beads of sweat, and I want to lick them all off.
He unbuttons my bra, releasing Pinky and the Brain from their prison.
“Beautiful.” He cups Pinky, and my nipple practically stabs his palm.
Can you go crazy from lust? I need him inside me so much I think I might scream.
Kissing his neck, I slide my tongue over his pecs, down the washboard abs and lower, toward the landing strip of hair below his navel. At the same time, I unzip his pants.
Holy hell.
Dracula is almost bursting out of his underwear.
Vlad kicks off his pants, then peels my jeans off.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes hooded.
