More. She needed more. All. All that he’d promised. His other hand kneaded her breast frantically, rolling her nipple, pinching, and she gasped, strong tendrils of pleasure shooting through her.
“Clothes,” she rasped, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Skin-to-skin. Now.
“Yes,” he replied, biting at her lip. “I have them.”
“Take them off.”
Both of his hands settled on her waist. A second later, she was soaring through the air. There was no time to react, no time to wonder what was happening. The next time she blinked, she was lying on top of the mattress, and he was at the foot of the bed, stripping.
The separation allowed her to catch her breath. Catching her breath allowed the fever in her veins to simmer.
She watched as he ripped his shirt over his head, revealing rope after rope of muscle, the bone necklace clinking as it settled on his chest. The scar she’d admired the night they met, the one bracketed between his pecs, had her mouth watering.
“How’d you get the scar?” she asked, certain he picked up on her desire to lick it.
“Training with my father. I was young, not yet able to heal without lingering effects, and he cut me open from neck to navel to teach me a lesson.” His motions never slowed.
“You learned that lesson?”
“I thought I had. Never trust an opponent. Even one you love.”
He unfastened his pants, and down they were pushed. No underwear. She caught sight of his erection and nearly wept with wonder. Maybe, since vampires seemed to live forever, he’d been on earth during the human/alien war some eighty years ago and had come into contact with some kind of nuclear … something. Because damn. He was huge. Bigger than any man she’d ever seen.
Long, thick, hard, with a plump head that would stroke her just right. His sac was drawn up tight, beautiful. He had no body hair that she could see, and anyone else she would have assumed waxed. But he wasn’t the type to care what anyone else thought. He liked himself just fine. Maybe too fine, but still, that kind of confidence was attractive. Heady. And in his case, warranted.
One knee, two, he climbed atop the bed. His gaze never left hers, even when he stopped at her waist, his legs cradling hers. Rather than fall on her and devour as she hoped, he stayed where he was, just breathing her in.
“Now I get to look at you,” he rasped.
His gaze tracked her, every inch of her, lingering on her beaded ni**les, her quivering navel, between her legs. Soon she was panting, on fire again, utterly desperate because those eyes caressed.
“Your ni**les are like berries,” he said. “Your stomach is a naughty little tease leading to …” He traced a fingertip to the small thatch of curls, so soft, so gentle. “This little treasure.”
Oh, God. She needed a stronger touch, a deeper touch. Now.
“McKell,” she said. Begged. “Victor. Please.”
He leaned back on his haunches, grabbed her legs and spread them wider, as wide they would go. But again, he didn’t fall on her. His gaze returned to her core, and his fangs extended.
He licked his lips, flicked his tongue over those sharp incisors. “You’re so pretty there. So wet. So mine.”
He wasn’t going to touch her yet, she realized. He was simply going to torture her.
“Can I touch what’s yours? Please.” She reached down and thrummed her clitoris. At that first needed contact, her hips arched off the bed, and she moaned. Yes.
“Ava,” he growled.
She stilled, the mattress quaking with the force such a cessation required. “Yes?” Would he tell her to stop?
“Do that again,” he said, a hoarse entreaty.
One she didn’t mind obeying. Over and over she circled her clit, her hips pumping with the movement. All the while he watched, stroking himself, fangs sharp and gleaming, and that ramped up her arousal.
“Make yourself come.”
Again, she didn’t mind obeying. She pressed harder, circled more intently, the pleasure building, breaking, slamming through her. She cried out, muscles clenching on bone, stars winking behind her eyes.
As she came down from the high, she refocused on him and realized he was still stroking his shaft, up and down, the motions smooth, even though his hand trembled. Her needy body once again lit up in flames, craving a taste of the sensual man in front of her.
“That was beautiful,” he croaked out. “I’ve never seen a woman take care of herself before.”
Just watching him, that plump head hidden by his hand, then revealed, then hidden again, caused her excitement to veer toward the edge of another climax. He was the beautiful one. Pure masculinity, utter warrior.
“More,” she said.
“For you, yes.” He stilled.
She moaned, reached out. “For you, too.”
“I almost lost you,” he whispered, taking her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Promise you’ll never leave me behind like that again.” When she hesitated, he added, “You’ve already promised not to purposefully endanger yourself. This vow asks no more of you than that one.”
This wasn’t an ultimatum on his part, she knew. He wouldn’t leave her unsated if she refused. He was concerned, that was all, and even that was a stimulant. “I promise,” she said, and she meant it.
“My good girl.” Finally he fell on her. He sucked on her ni**les, hard, his fangs nearly breaking skin. She loved it, loved every sensation. For every swipe of his tongue, every nibble of his teeth, drove her need higher … higher … just the way she’d wanted, until she was writhing, clawing at his back, tugging at his hair.
He was going to make her come again, just by lavishing attention on her br**sts. No, no, no, she thought. That would make three for her and zero for him. Even in her lust-fog, she knew she wanted him receiving an equal amount of pleasure.
Ava flattened her hands on his chest and pushed. He fell to his back, and she rose over him, honey curls forming a curtain around their faces. His hips arched up, rubbing his shaft against her moist folds, but not penetrating, and they both groaned. At last she got to lick his scar, tracing the edges with her tongue, and clearly, he liked. He gripped the sheets, ripping them to shreds.
“I’m going to suck you,” she said, “but I won’t let you come. Not yet.”
“Why not? Do you think you’ll dislike the taste of my seed?” How disappointed he sounded.
“Oh, I know I’ll like the taste.” Truth. There was nothing she disliked about this man. “But I want you to come inside me.” Or rather, in a condom, while thrusting hard and deep. Oh, yes. Soon. Please.