What would it be like to feel that firm crown at her mouth, like a plum warmed in the sun? She grazed her fingertips over her lips as she imagined it. Would the vampire shudder and groan if she pressed her tongue against him there?
"Ah, Bettina, your eyes go light," he rasped. "Have you looked your fill?" Were his legs quaking?
My fill? No. Not at all.
Planes, textures, colors? Proportion! His body taken all together was a tableau of perfection-a masterpiece she needed to appreciate more fully.
One that was making her wetter than she'd ever been in her entire life.
He inhaled deeply, and his body shot even tighter with tension. Could he tell how he affected her? Of course, he would scent her.
What would he do next? She wished she had more experience with these things.
"The way you look at me, woman . . . I could come under your glittering gaze. I wager my merry sorceress would like to see that."
She'd only felt it in her hand before. Form and function. She thrilled to watch her creations work, to perform as intended. She wanted to see this part of him . . . release. "Now that you mention-"
He scooped her up. In an instant, she was weightless, traced to his bed.
"Oh! What are you going to do?"
His words like a growl, he answered, "Pleasure you." He covered her with his big wet body, wrapping his brawny arms around her as his lips descended to hers.
And it felt wondrous.
This time she didn't break away, didn't deny him. When he touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, she parted them, letting him taste her.
She knew there was a reason she shouldn't be in bed, kissing a na**d vampire, but her thoughts were still scrambled from the sight of him.
Against her lips, he said, "Zeii, I've craved your kiss, all this long day. Craved more of what I found in your bed."
"Was last night really the first time you . . . ?"
"Came?" he groaned the word. "First time in centuries."
"Did it . . . did it feel good?" Was I too clumsy? Too inexperienced?
"Ah, gods, female, it felt very good." He licked at her lips. "Your soft little palm wrung me dry. I can't even look at your hands without getting hard." With that, he took her mouth totally, those firm lips claiming hers. Sensuous flicks of his tongue coaxed hers to meet him.
She did eagerly, but he kept their kiss slow, fierce-devastating. How could he be so good at this after so long without?
Each stroke of his wicked tongue drew her ardor to the fore, making her wild for him. She wriggled her body closer to his, to his warmth and palpable strength.
Were his hands busy at her waist? Ah, her sarong. Oh, gone!
His kisses stifled any halfhearted protests she could have managed. Had he just wedged his h*ps between her thighs?
Yes! That glorious shaft pressed over her panties, its length like a brand from her mons past her navel.
More kisses, more movement. Her arms were over her head. Wrists briefly in his fist? A whisper of sensation on her br**sts?
He'd removed her top? Yes, cool air tickled her ni**les-until the hot, slick skin of his chest shoved against her na**d br**sts. She moaned into the kiss.
When he hooked a finger around the side of her thong, she comprehended that it was the only barrier left between them. She jerked her head back. In a strangled voice, she said, "Vampire, my panties!"
"Off! Yes, dragă . . ."
"No, they stay!"