All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,212

beneath me. I’ve straddled plenty of guys, but none have ever felt this powerful. Slowly, I inch my hand over and skim his bottom lip with my fingers. He opens his mouth slightly, his eyes narrowing into slits as he watches me.

Easing a finger inside, I run it along the length of his fang, stopping when I get to the pointed tip. It feels like real teeth. A shiver zips through me, and Damiano grips even tighter. Ignoring the bites of pain in my thighs, I press my index against the sharp tip. It pushes through my skin, drawing up a small welling of blood.

“Santo cazzo Madre di Cristo,” he mutters, his eyes flying open.

Within a blink, he scoops me up into his arms and presses my back into the couch. I open my mouth to speak, but he’s already there, his lips rough and strong against mine. He slides his tongue past my lips, wresting a moan from me. His hold tightens on me; his entire body presses into mine as if molding us together, making us one.

Strong hands thread through my hair and grip my scalp. I’m helpless against the onslaught of his lips and tongue. Unbidden, my hips rise to meet him, grind against him, anything to get rid of this ache building inside me. My skin is feverish against his cool hands, and yet they don’t keep me from burning even hotter.

“Cara, we must stop this.” Damiano pulls away from me, and already I miss his lips. His knuckles brush against my cheek, and I lean into his touch. “You have to understand that what I am is real. I’m not some fictional character you’ve built up in your mind. I am a predator. Give me an inch, and I’ll take a fucking mile.”

Tsking softly, I smile up at him. “What was that about language?”

“Dio Santo,” he chuckles, leaning his forehead against mine, “you really want to school me on language? Perhaps I should give you the punishment for me, yeah?”

“Or you could just kiss me again and all will be forgiven?”

“Minx,” Damiano whispers against my lips before sliding his along mine.

Sparks explode over my skin and settle low in my belly. Groaning, I arch up into him, wanting more, needing more. His strong hands skim my sides, touching me, yet not touching anything I need him to. With a grunt, I grab his hand and place it on my breast. Relief flows through me. His hand, though cool, sears through my clothing, burning me up with his touch.

My relief is short-lived, however, as he quickly pulls back from me. His eyes are obsidian, with just a hint of blueish green around the edges. He wants me just as badly as I want him. So, what’s the problem?

With a growl, he gets up from the couch and starts pacing, his hands agitating his hair. Confusion fills me. Isn’t this what he wants? Most of the guys who let me use their couch are more than happy to take my body as payment. What’s so different about Damiano? As a vampire, he should be the first to want to pounce, not the last.

“Look, I—” I begin.

“We can’t do this,” he mutters, spearing me with a glare. “You’re not even supposed to know about us. I should just wipe your memory and take you home. Where do you live?”

Squirming, I look anywhere but at his face. I guess it was going to come out at some point. “Well, the thing is—”

“You don’t have a home, do you?” he questions flatly before beginning his pacing again. “Of course you don’t.”

“Look, it’s not my fault that you dragged me to this palace. I was content just spending the night in that crypt.”

“With John? You know, the vampire who actually tried to murder you?”

Standing up, I plant my hands on my hips, giving him back the same glare. “You don’t know that. Maybe he just wanted a snack. He could have just taken a little and left me be.”

“Oh, just taken a little?”

He prowls back towards me. My heart leaps to my throat as I watch his lethal, sinuous steps. Each movement brings him closer to me. I back up as much as I can until the couch bumps the backs of my knees. With nowhere else to go, I slump back down, but that doesn’t stop his pursuit. He stands there, hands gripping the back of the couch, caging my head in between them.

“And how much do you consider a