Oliver's Hunger - By Tina Folsom Page 0,36

him. He ignored that particular need, knowing that he couldn’t go there: if he bit her, she would never sleep with him, and right now, his need to feel his body joined with hers was stronger than his craving for blood. Much stronger.

In fact, his desire to have sex with her nearly completely drowned out his need for blood. Nothing had ever managed to do that. Ever since he’d become a vampire two months earlier, he hadn’t even felt the need for sex, because his craving for blood had overshadowed everything. His few trips to Vera’s brothel had—common to contrary belief—not been for the purpose of sex. Rather he’d gone there for the company.

When he felt Ursula shove one hand into his hair and caress his nape with the other, a shiver raced down his spine. He ripped his lips from hers, taking a much needed breath of air.

“Oh God, baby!”

Then he sank his lips onto her neck and planted open-mouthed kisses onto her hot skin.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, and slid one hand down her torso.

When he encountered her braless breast and cupped it, Ursula let out a sigh. Then a breathless word came from her lips. “Yes.”

Both man and vampire in him howled triumphantly. He nibbled his way to her earlobe, while continuing to tease her breast, his fingers capturing her hardened nipple through the fabric. With every moment, her breathing became more erratic, her heartbeat faster. Her scent changed: the sweet smell of arousal now teased his nostrils, awakening the vampire inside him. But he couldn’t allow the beast to come to the surface. Too much depended on how she perceived him, and unleashing his untamed side would only destroy what progress he’d made so far.

After all, Ursula was responding to him, clearly forgetting that she was kissing a vampire and allowing him to touch her intimately. Allowing him to arouse her. Just like she aroused him. He didn’t want to destroy this feeling by reminding her of what he was: a predator.

Her body felt pliable in his arms, precious even. Maybe knowing what she’d been through in her short life was the reason why he felt protective toward her. There could be no other reason for it. As for the lust she roused in him, the reason for it was undeniable: Ursula was the most enticing woman he’d ever met. Beautiful and exotic, strong and determined, and so passionate. Her sexual energy was impossible to overlook. It seemed to radiate from every pore of her tantalizing body. How a man could ever look at her and not be instantly tempted to haul her off to his bed was unfathomable to him.

At the thought, he felt a sharp stab in his chest, as if somebody were poking him with a blade. Reminded of how Blake had looked at her earlier, how he’d tried to use his—admittedly considerable—charm on her, drove Oliver to press his lips back onto hers to sear them with a kiss that he hoped would make her forget that his half-brother even existed.

Yes, he had to make sure Ursula only looked at him, only offered her sinful body to him. Tangling with her tongue, he captured more of her sweet taste, inhaled more of her scent. Like a cocoon, it wrapped around him, just like her arms embraced him, holding him close to her.

Releasing her lips, he issued his demand, “Touch me.”

Without missing a beat, her eyes still closed, her hands slid down to his ass.

“My cock, touch my cock.”

He pulled one of her hands from his backside and drew back just enough for her to slide her hand between them. When her warm palm cupped his straining hard-on a second later, he groaned loudly and sank his lips back on her neck, kissing her heated flesh.

“Yes, baby!” he encouraged her.

A bolt of electricity shot through him when she squeezed him. Instinctively, he pressed himself harder into her hand, asking her for more, demanding she repeat her action.

She did.

The pleasure she gave him with her touch was building with every stroke and every caress of her hand. Like an experienced temptress, Ursula traced the length of his erection with her fingernails, chasing every sane thought from his mind.

“Like that?” she whispered, her voice as breathless as his own.

“Just like that,” he mumbled against her skin, not wanting to remove his lips from her neck. He licked and nibbled, kissed and caressed purposely playful so as to keep himself from losing control. But he knew it

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