“I never knew…” She arched back to meet his hungry gaze. “Does it always feel like this?”
Unable to resist the sight of that slender neck arched in open invitation, Jagr lowered his head to nibble his way down the satin skin.
“No,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Never like this.”
She quivered as his tongue ran a searing path along the line of her collarbone.
“Then what’s happening?” Her fingers dug into his upper arms, as if her knees had suddenly become too weak to support her. “One minute I want to punch you in the nose, or at the very least get a restraining order, and the next…”
He nipped her earlobe, careful not to break the skin. One overwhelming lust was enough.
“And the next?”
“I want to strip off my clothes and feel your hands on my skin.”
Before she could even guess his intention, Jagr grasped the hem of her shirt, and with one smooth jerk had it pulled over her head. She gasped as he tossed it aside and just as easily rid her of the tiny white bra.
“Like this?” he rasped, his hands moving to cup her br**sts with a reverent care.
By the gods of his mother, she was beautiful. Perfect. Edible.
His thumbs stroked the rosy tips of her ni**les, rumbling in pleasure as the peaks hardened and she shivered with excitement.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Exactly like that.”
His head lowered, his lips closing over the tip of her breast.
“And like this?”
Her head dropped back, her hair brushing over his arms that he had wrapped about her like a warm spill of satin.
“Oh…God, yes.”
Grimly reminding himself of her innocence, Jagr leashed his desperate hunger. Falling on her like a ravaging beast probably wasn’t the best seduction tactic. Not yet.
Continuing to torment her nipple with his tongue, Jagr deftly slid down the zipper of her jeans, longing for the sensation of her naked body pressed against his. When there was no protest from Regan, he slowly began to peel them downward, lowering himself to his knees as he efficiently tugged off her running shoes and socks before removing the jeans.
Then, still kneeling, he simply drank in the sight of her.
Her legs were long and slender. Her waist narrow enough he knew he could span it with his hands. But it was the firm muscles that rippled beneath her smooth skin that sent a jolt of excitement through him.
Well, that, and the tiny triangle of silk that was at his direct eye level.
His fangs were fully extended, ready and willing to cut through the delicate material to reveal the sweet treasure beneath.
Once again, however, he restrained his sharp-edged need.
Instead, he slowly worked his way back to his feet, trailing his lips up the curve of her stomach, the hollow between her br**sts, and the frantic pulse at the base of her neck.
She groaned, her lips parting willingly as he at last claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss.
“Jagr,” she moaned.
“You smell of midnight jasmine. I could drown in that scent.”
“You smell of power,” she whispered against his lips. “Like a strike of lightning.”
“Does lightning have a scent?” he teased, his hands compulsively caressing the curve of her back. He could have her in his arms for an eternity and still it would not be long enough.
Because this is where she belongs.
Where she will always belong.
The disturbing words floated through his mind before he could halt them.
“Raw energy,” she retorted, moaning as his tongue traced the edge of her lower lip. “Dangerous…unpredictable…”
“Oh, I can be very predictable, little one,” he corrected, grasping her hand to gently place it against his pulsing arousal.
Her breath caught as her fingers traced his hard c**k straining against his zipper, her eyes darkening with awareness of her feminine power.
Desire clawed deep within him. He wanted to make this a slow, delicate seduction, but the thought of being buried deep within her was swiftly undermining his control. At heart, he was still a barbarian. A wild, pagan coupling was becoming a more viable option by the second.
Regan couldn’t have missed the sudden heat that filled the cavern, or the tension that clenched his muscles, but as if deliberately seeking to push Jagr over the edge, her searching fingers slowly tugged down the zipper of his jeans, releasing the heavy thrust of his erection.
“Gods,” Jagr managed to croak, shuddering at the hot surge of desire.
“Do you like this?” she demanded, lightly skimming her fingers down his thick length.
“Yes,” he growled, his hands clutching her hips as he sought to remain in control of his building need.
“And this?” she whispered, her hand moving steadily lower.
“Regan…” He muttered a curse, his eyes clenching shut as he battled to hold off the surging climax. “Yes.”
She discovered his tender sack and lightly squeezed. “And this?”
“Enough,” he choked, grasping her wrist to halt the exquisite torment.
“Why?”
Forcing his eyes open, he met the glittering emerald gaze. “Because just your touch is enough to make me explode.”
The sweet scent of her arousal deepened at his blunt words. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Bad?” His sharp laugh echoed through the darkness. “By the saints, I would walk through the fires of hell for the feel of your hands on my body.”
Her lips curved in a smile of pure temptation.
A natural born Eve.
“Then why are you stopping me?”
Good question.
Oh, it wasn’t uncommon for him to deny himself pleasure.
His lair was a cold, barren series of cement tunnels beneath an abandoned warehouse. It had none of the luxuries that most vampires craved. His only concession to comfort was his vast collection of books, his high-tech computer, and his plasma TVs.
And certainly he never allowed himself to wallow in the self-indulgent pursuit of physical pleasure that many demons craved.
He never questioned his monkish existence. What did it matter if it was an obsessive need to feel in control after years of being in the power of others? Or some obscure hatred for being turned into the same monster as those who’d tortured him? Or even a boorish distaste for the company of others.
In this moment, he wanted to plunge into the swirling sensations that heated his blood to a fever pitch. He wanted to…feel. To melt the ice that had held him captive since he’d left those blood-soaked caves.