All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,70

think I am,” he says.

“You’re not one of the Serrano brothers?”

He winces as he meets my gaze. “Technically, yes. I am.”

I don’t think I’d care if he wasn’t. I want him. I’d thought any man would do, but I wouldn’t trade places with the woman on the other side of the glass. She has two men’s hands on her. And they’re…

Well, that’s interesting.

On the other side of the glass, one of the men continues to kiss the woman on her mouth. The other one is spreading her thighs before he goes to his knees, and then he puts his mouth on her… there.

I didn’t know such a thing was done. Her body is trembling, from her head down to her toes, which are bouncing off the floor as both men lap at her orifices.

“I want to kiss you,” says Serrano.

My chest heaves. I want him to kiss me too. But now I’m thinking of kissing in a whole new light.

I turn back to him just in time to meet his lips. He’s pressing his hard body into me, but his lips are soft. I’d expected roughness. He is a man, after all. But he handles me with care.

His lips speak of urgency as they press into mine. But each brush is a whisper. Each touch, a sigh. It makes me want him more.

When his tongue sneaks out of his mouth and licks at my upper lip, my body sings a new tune. When his teeth tug at my lower lip, I hear the drums again. The pulsing beat of him fills my ears. I want to dance with him. To shimmy my chest and shake my hips. Preferably while on top of him.

I would let this man bite me if he wanted. I want him to let me bite him. I want to know what he tastes like. But I know that blood exchange between two vampires is a delicate dance, so I take his kiss and pray for patience as the rhythm intensifies.

Chapter 7

It’s been a while since I’ve kissed a woman. A long while. So long, in fact, that I can’t remember the name of the last woman I kissed. Or her face.

My vision is fogged over with ebony clouds as I run my hands through her hair. I dig my fingers into the soft tufts of her coiled locks, and feel like I’m floating. Pulling her close, I anchor her body to mine. If I am going to sail away, it’s going to be while I’m moored to this exquisite creature in my arms.

I’d forgotten how soft a woman’s lips are. Or is that just her softness?

I’d forgotten the velvety warmth of a woman’s tongue. Or is that just her heat?

I want to investigate every crevice of her. I want to take my time and explore her valleys and curves. But she is anxious in my hold, impatient.

Her body moves against mine, more like an oncoming storm than a sedate, fluffy cloud on a sunny day. Her moans are a thunderous pleading. Her eyes flash open, and the desire inside strikes like lightning.

I pull away to catch my breath. However, both my body and her lips protest. A low, keening cry comes from the other side of the glass. We are both momentarily distracted as we turn to see a new scene.

A woman is being tied up. The man who binds her is dressed in black. The rope in his hands is golden. The woman doesn’t fight the confinement. Her eyes are glazing over as though the golden strands are an extension of her lover’s caress. The brilliant strands are zigzagging streaks against the black of her dress; like contained lightening.

“Please,” says the beam of light before me.

The sound of her begging flips a switch in me. I want to hold her captive so that I can taste the fire inside her. I want to bind her to me while I thrust into the eye of her storm. I want to catch lightning in a bottle, and I don’t care if I get burned.

On the other side of the glass, the cries of pleasure have turned to gargled pants as the man face-fucks the woman he’s bound. I worry the poor woman is choking, but she tilts her head back for more. It looks depraved. It looks dirty. It looks demeaning.

“Please,” says the spark of radiance in my arms.

Suddenly, I want to tip her head back by her chin and shove my cock down that elegant throat