“No.”
I blinked.
“No?” I queried and my voice sounded breathy.
His mouth traveled up my neck, over my jaw to meet my lips.
“No. I’ve decided you’ll be na**d most of today.”
What? My mind screamed.
“What?” my mouth whispered.
I felt his smile against my lips. “You’ll be naked. Obviously you’ve learned your lesson and decided to mind me. That deserves a reward.” His voice dipped lower when he informed me, “And I’m going to spend all day giving you that reward.”
Oh my God.
Now what had I done?
The game I’d instigated had taken a nasty turn. And this was because he played it far better than me.
Damn the vampire!
“Lucien…” I started but his hand hit my bare thigh, roving upwards under my robe to cup my bottom.
He interrupted my concentration on the movement of his hand by demanding, “Kiss me, pet.”
“Kiss you?” I whispered.
“I want your tongue in my mouth.”
Oh my God.
“Lucien –” I started again but he cut me off.
“You intend to disobey me?” His tone sounded like a gentle threat or possibly a challenge.
What did I do now?
My choices were to be Obedient Leah and kiss him or be Real Leah and likely get punishment.
I was screwed!
“Can we –?” I began yet again only to be interrupted again.
“Kiss me, Leah.”
“Just give me two –”
His hand pressed my h*ps against his and I could feel he was hard. My body registered that I liked it that he was hard, that I could make him hard just by lying beside him and talking.
That may have been what my body registered but my mind registered complete and utter fear.
I watched his eyes grow dark and intense.
Then he growled, “Do what I say or –”
I cut him off this time and kissed him.
The minute my tongue touched his, per usual, I wondered why I’d struggled against it. Both our heads slanted to opposite sides. Our tongues dueled, both fighting for supremacy, taking, taking, taking, so hungry, at the same time giving so much I felt my body consumed with the gift of his kiss.
It was glorious.
My back arched, pressing my torso into his, seeking maximum contact but he pulled away. His hand moving between us, he yanked at the tie on my robe, shifting it aside. His hand slid across my waist, up my back, pressing in, my sensitive na**d torso flattened against his massive, hard, tee-covered chest.
It felt great.
His mouth broke from mine and he demanded in a husky voice, “Wrap your leg around my waist. I want to smell you.”
His demand caused my belly to dip and a rush of heat to surge between my legs.
I did as I was told, biting my lip, feeling both desire and embarrassment all of this mingled with fear, of him, of what we were doing, of what it meant that I responded to him so strongly even though I despised him so thoroughly.
When my calf curled around his ass, his eyes grew unfocused.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered and his gaze caught mine, still fogged. “I can’t wait to have my mouth on you, to have the taste of you on my tongue, to have that scent take over my world.”
That was the second weirdest, yet most profound, compliment I’d ever had.
I had no time to let it sink in. He was kissing me, harder, more demanding, more beautiful than the last.
His hands moved on me, mine moved on him, yanking up his tee so they could move skin against skin.
His body felt amazing beneath my touch. Hard, silken, strong, massive, defined.
His mouth tore from mine but his lips slid down my cheek, scoring a delicious path over my jaw, neck, down, making me tremble.
“Offer your breast to me,” he ordered, mouth at my chest and I was so deep in my own sensual fog, his question confused me.
“Sorry?”
His lips moved away and he pulled up, his eyes locking with mine.
“I want you to offer me your breast.”
His command sliced through my arousal. I didn’t know what he meant. Was he going to feed on me there like I’d seen the vampire do last night? Or was he going to do something else?
Both of which I wanted. Both of which terrified me.
I swallowed.
His eyes scanned my face before he asked softly, “What’s this?”
I stared at him and it hit me that he looked strangely hopeful.
“Maybe this is going a little fast for me,” I tried.
And failed.
His expression shifted, not angry or impatient but pleased. Very pleased. Even, if it could be credited, relieved.
And stimulated. Or, more stimulated.
“You deny me?” he whispered sounding like he hoped I did.
“Um…”
“Offer me your breast, Leah,” he repeated.
“Er…”
“Cup it in your hand and offer it to me.”
“Couldn’t we just, you know, carry on like before, natural-like?” I suggested.
He shook his head and his arms stole around me, tensing fiercely, crushing me to him.
“Today, if it takes all day, if it takes into tomorrow, if it takes the next month, you’ll learn to submit to me. You’ll learn to give me what I want when I ask for it. You’ll learn to offer me what I desire when I demand it. You’ll learn to beg me for your own release when I require it.”
I felt my temper rise. Really, he was such a jerk.
“I don’t think –”
“Give me your breast, pet.”
“Lucien, seriously.”
“Do it!” he snarled, his voice turning dangerous, his patience waning.
Obedient Leah evaporated and Real Leah glared.
“You want it, take it! I’m not giving you anything,” I snarled back.
He rolled into me, his massive weight crushing me to the couch and, for some unhinged reason, regardless of the fact we were locked in our usual battle, I found I was wrong about his patience waning.
It had been a test. A test I failed. A battle he won.
And he looked triumphant.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he muttered.
Great!
Then it began, my punishment for disobeying – his hands on me, his mouth on me everywhere, hard, hot, ravenous, demanding my response and getting it in spades.
He lit me on fire. I fought it but I didn’t win. My defenses were puny and they collapsed within minutes.
I pulled up his tee and he took over, arching away from me, tearing it over his head and tossing it aside. With all his delicious skin exposed, a craving so intense it felt like it would shatter me tore through my system. My mouth sought anywhere it could touch, taste, lick, bite, suck and I liked the way he tasted.