to the wrist. Blue eyes looking at me with his lips still pressed against my flesh. “You please me, too.”
My breath started coming a faster in my chest.
I reached out with my other hand, desperate to feel all those little details: the chest, hard and lean and beautifully defined; the Adam’s apple that moved so temptingly under my fingers; the shoulder blades with their dusting of freckles that matched the ones on his back—another relic of a former life. The skin was different there, light golden brown instead of the cream of areas further down, speaking of long days spent shirtless under the French sun.
I wondered if it would have a different texture under my tongue. If I could close my eyes and map his body as easily by taste and touch as by sight. I bet I could—
But he wouldn’t let me.
I’d closed my eyes again in preparation, but a second sense had me opening them again. And discovering that my lover had moved, in that so quiet way that vamps have, to the point that I hadn’t even noticed it. Of course, I’d been distracted, I told myself, staring directly up into blue, blue eyes.
“What?” I asked, a little breathlessly.
A faint tilt to the edge of the lip, and a glance that seemed to rake my body with an actual, physical touch, did not help my breathing.
“What?” I said again, as he slowly gathered my hands, holding them together in one lazy, iron-fisted grip, above my head.
“What?” I demanded, as he went back to that disturbing exploration.
He kissed my forehead. “My turn,” he whispered, and my whole body shuddered.
He took his time, examining every inch of me, refusing to stop when I squirmed. I supposed it was fair, but I couldn’t imagine what I looked like: beaten and bruised, bangs half gone, sweaty from two previous sessions . . . not too tempting. But he didn’t seem to see it that way.
A big, elegant hand dragged those callouses from breast to thigh and back again. He seemed fascinated by the color difference between his hand, probably the darkest shade of gold on his body, and the milkiness of my skin. I’d seen the sun plenty in my lifetime, but dhampirs don’t tan. The same healing abilities that prevented me from wearing earrings or bleeding out after a battle also erased a tan in a day, often less.
It was annoying, as dead white skin was a fashion no-no these days, but Louis-Cesare didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe it was the textural difference that intrigued him. The rough spots on his skin found no purchase on mine, sliding easily back and forth, back and forth, back and—
“Stop it,” I growled. “I don’t like—”
“To be admired? Why? You are exquisite.”
I stared at him. “Yeah, that’s why most people run at the sight of me.”
“They’re intimidated.” He kissed my stomach. “Do you know how many people I saw watching you tonight?”
“Afraid I’d steal the silver. Or possibly stab them with it.”
He looked up, and the dark eyes were serious. “They were admiring glances. Do you have any idea what you looked like then? What you look like now?”
I started to make a joke, but the look in his eyes stopped me. “No.”
“Then perhaps I should show you.”
I’d thought he meant in a mirror, but apparently not, because a warm, wicked mouth captured a nipple. The talented tongue played with it for a moment, swirling around my softness, then playfully biting the little nub he’d teased up until I was aching with it. Before abruptly starting to suck.
And, okay, I thought, that’s—that’s not fair.
Louis-Cesare did not appear to care. In fact, he compounded the issue by slipping that talented hand between my thighs, where he found another little nub. And, for the record, callouses on certain things are . . . nice. Very nice. Exquisitely fucking nice and suddenly I was squirming constantly.
I may have also started to vocalize, just slightly. I wasn’t screaming—I was not a screamer—but I might have been panting a little. Which was completely understandable considering the twin provocations. And then maybe a moan or two slipped out, and some Romanian curse words that I thought I’d forgotten but apparently not, and then a few things that might qualify as shrieks, only they were way softer than that and they should probably come up with another word but I couldn’t think of one right then, maybe because I was having problems remembering my damned name.
And then the shrieks