He spread her lips for better access, and licked lazily. First tiny flicks, then exquisite little circles. He reached between her legs. The sensation of one finger slipping deep tore a gasp from her lips. She threaded her hands into the cool silk of his hair and held on for dear life.
He drew back just as she was about to spill over.
“Ridge!” she protested, as he rose to his feet with that pacing panther grace. “Has anybody ever mentioned you’ve got a sadistic streak?”
He smiled, very male, just shy of smug. “A time or two.” And he pulled down the waistband of his cotton pants. His c**k sprang free.
She forgot her irritation in anticipation. His erection looked delicious, a thick, rosy length that jutted from his muscular belly.
He ignored her shameless, hungry gape and calmly drew his pants down his brawny thighs, stepped out of them, and straightened.
And let her stare.
God, he was beautiful. Kat was no stranger to physical power—there were plenty of muscular men at the gym— but there was a sculpted elegance to Ridge’s body you didn’t get from pumping iron. His was a warrior’s build, long and lean, with a swordsman’s grace and agility.
A big hand closed over hers, shocking her out of her lust-induced trance. Smiling indulgently, Ridge guided her over the side of the tub and down into the delightfully warm water.
Kat sighed in pleasure as she sank onto the low bench just beneath the foamy surface. Little wavelets sloshed as he joined her, drawing her back into his arms.
Picking up a bar of fragrant soap, he began to run it over her skin, lazily stroking. Kat let her eyelids slide closed, the better to concentrate on all the wonderful sensations.
Bubbles caressed her arms, her br**sts, as gentle currents swirled around her body, seductively warm.
The cake of soap felt slick, cool, as he stroked it over her ni**les, around her arms, down her torso to her legs.
She let her head fall back against his shoulder. “I feel like melting chocolate. Like there’s not a bone in my entire body.”
“Mmm,” he purred. “That’s okay. I’m hard enough for both of us.” Kat chuckled without opening her eyes. “You’re a bad, bad man, Ridge Champion.”
“And getting worse every minute.” The cake of soap slid wickedly between her legs. He turned it on edge, used its slick, rounded surface to maddening effect. Kat caught her breath in delight as it slid over her clit, teasing until she squirmed.
“Like that?” he rumbled in her ear, his voice deep, almost thrumming.
“Mmm.” She couldn’t seem to manage anything more coherent.
“How about this?” Fingers replaced the soap, slick and skilled. Circled, danced, strummed. She panted, rolling her hips in tiny, needy jerks as he tormented her gently.
His mouth found the side of her neck, nibbled until she turned her head to find his lips blindly. They kissed, his hands skimming her with soapy fingers. He stroked ni**les, followed the curve of br**sts, traced belly button and hip bone. Found erogenous zones she didn’t even know she had, and played over them until she quivered in response.
No lover had ever made her body leap like this. Lost in the hot honey rise of passion, she reached back and hooked an arm around his neck, arching into his hands, gasping.
No, she’d never had a man like this.
Every fluid movement of her long, lush body was an act of seduction. She twisted and rolled, stroking herself against him like a cat, purring and lazy with pleasure. Her ni**les jutted, hard and pink and sweet as candy atop br**sts that filled his hands with satin warmth. Foam rolled down her body, hissing and popping in gentle accompaniment to the lapping of warm water around them.
Ridge was hard as marble against her ass, and his fangs ached with the need to taste her. Her heartbeat pumped a demanding beat in his ears. He knew he must have wanted a woman this much in his decades as a vampire.
But damned if he could remember when.
Need beat in his blood, pulsed in the root of his fangs and the thick jut of his cock. He felt like distilled lust, a pure and blazing psychic heat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep from claiming her.
Sliding a finger deep into creamy flesh, Ridge moaned. God, she felt so tight, yet so impossibly slick and ready. The thought of how she’d feel clasping him made him shudder.
Kat rolled her head against his shoulder, arching her neck in invitation. He bent his head to kiss her there again . . .
And felt the big vein pulsing against his lips in thumping temptation. His eyes slid closed, and he pressed the tips of his fangs against that vein.
“Yes.” She gasped. Her Southern Comfort voice sounded even more throaty, and her gaze met his, fey and witchy with need. “Do it. Take me.”