"As I said before, the prize is too dear for me to fight fair. Doesn't it feel good, dulcea mea?"
My sweet. In a hazy part of her brain, she wondered if he called her that as an endearment or if he was referring to her taste again. "You know it feels good, but someone will notice."
"So my touching you isn't the issue. It's just that you don't want others to see."
"You're twisting my-I never said that." She was already panting, her br**sts swelling. The peaks jutted lewdly beneath her top. She clutched the tablecloth in her fists.
He worked his hand between her legs, but didn't force them open. "Spread your thighs and let me give you pleasure," he rasped. "Come, Bett, I won't stop until you're writhing from it."
"Daciano, please, you can't do this here."
"Shh, shh." His soothing murmurs only heightened her arousal. "I left you unsatisfied, and I vow to you that I never will again."
She squeezed her eyes shut. This male wanted to give her hot, wet, bliss-and gods help her, she craved it.
"Open your eyes, dragă. Now no one can see us."
Mist had filled the grandstand. She couldn't see anyone but him. They might as well be alone, cocooned in the sensual heat surrounding them. It dotted her skin, glittering like dew in the morning.
"You are part of it, Bettina." Again he sounded proud.
Something was affecting her. One second she felt like she was floating, the next like she was tethered hard to the male beside her.
He dragged her across his legs, settling her sideways over his lap. With his arms wrapped around her, she felt almost a sense of relief, as if she'd yearned to be even closer to him.
Yes, tethered even more tightly to this vampire. . . .
"Open for me." Her legs eased a touch wider; he growled low with approval.
Then his hand glided higher, rucking her skirt to the side. She held her breath as his fingers began delving into her panties. Strange-she thought he was holding his breath too.
When his fingers slipped to her sex, he groaned at her ear, "Wet, so f**king wet."
Struggling not to whimper, she bit her lip again.
"Woman, you madden me"-he ripped her panties free with one forceful yank-"at every turn."
"Vampire! Don't . . ." She trailed off-because he'd begun to stroke her.
With infinite tenderness, he rubbed his thumb up and down her clitoris, the rest of his fingers teasing her opening.
Nothing could possibly feel this good. She needed more. How to get more?
"I love how sensual you are, Bride. Even now you're rocking to my fingers, as if I'd petted you like this a thousand times."
Am I? She gazed down, shamelessly watching him fondle her bared sex. With his thumb making slick circles, he crooked his forefinger, breaching her only with his knuckle. And it was-
Rapture.
"Ah, gods," she whispered. Sure enough, she was slowly undulating to his touch, wanting it deeper, the pressure greater.
"You'll do that when you're beneath me," he promised her. "Look how hard your little ni**les strain against your top." She felt a ghosting sweep of fingertips across them, making her shiver. "Did you like when I sucked them?"
His words and his sinful voice worked together, stoking her desire like a forge. "Vampire, you really want me to . . . to . . . here?"
"Yes. Tell me you'll let me do anything to you."
Her brows drew together. "You know I can't say that, can't allow that."