A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(51)

He tasted of dark liqueur and darker nights, lush and crystal clear. Without thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her br**sts to his chest, the feel eliciting a moan deep in her throat.

Firm hands slid up her rib cage and down over her hips, back and forth, making her moan with the pleasure. She loved being touched. Especially by a man with a sure, if gentle, hand. A man who knew what he was doing.

His fingers slid into her butt cheeks, gripping them hard, kneading them as he pulled her against him and the hard ridge that lay between them within his pants. Her own hips began to rock of their own volition, seeking . . . needing . . .

Oh yes, her vampire knew what he was doing.

Her moan turned to one of dismay as he released her mouth, pulled her arms from around his neck, and set her away from him. Once more, he cupped her face, forcing her to look at him through the haze of passion.

"Your body screams for mine, cara, but I fear it is your passionate nature speaking and not truly your will. Do you wish me to remove my pants?"

She closed her eyes, trembling with desire, and tipped her forehead against his shoulder. "No."

He gathered her against him with a sigh, holding her against his warm length. "I feared as much."

"Do you want to stop? And let me take my own shower?"

"Never. My control is exquisite. And there is nothing I want more at this moment than to touch you. Not sex, not blood, not fear. Just to touch you." His hands traced wide, warm circles over her back.

She blinked. "Why aren't your hands cold anymore?"

He pulled back with surprise, meeting her gaze. "You can feel the warmth?"

"Yes. You feel hotter than I am."

A funny look crossed his face. "When I touch you, when I kiss you, I feel as if I've stepped into the sun for the first time in centuries. You smell like sunshine to me. And I feel a warming of the flesh I've not known in far too long. I thought I was being fanciful."

"You're actually warm to the touch." She looked at him curiously. "Is this my magic?"

"I do not know." He frowned, his fingers running through her hair. "I wish you had no magic."

"Why?"

"Because then I could keep you for my own."

Chapter Ten

Turning away, Arturo opened the inner door of the shower stall and started the water, then stepped back out and began to remove his belt.

Quinn stared at him with disbelief. "You said you were keeping your pants on."

"Pants, yes. Belt, no. I would not ruin the leather."

"Oh. Fair enough."

But the moment he tossed the belt aside, he reached for her, long fingers catching in the waistband of her panties. "Hold on to me."

She did, gripping his shoulders - hard, muscular, lovely shoulders - to steady herself as he pulled her panties down and off. Arturo straightened slowly, caressing her body with his gaze in a wash of sensual heat. With a quick shake of his head, as if to clear it, he opened the door behind him, took her hand, and led her inside under the deliciously warm spray of water.

"Oh, this is heaven," she murmured, stepping into the stream, tilting her head back to soak her face and hair.

"You, cara mia, are magnificent." He dipped and nuzzled her neck even as the water sluiced down the back of her head, neck, and shoulders. Slowly, he straightened, then reached for the bar of soap sitting in the soap dish on the wall. A bar that looked a lot like what she used at home.

"Dove?"

"So it says." He thoroughly lathered his hands, then dropped the bar back into the dish. "Step out of the water. Let me wash you."

She did, missing the warmth until his soapy hands slid over her shoulders, cupping her neck and throat, then down to cover both br**sts. Tipping her head back, she sighed with pleasure at his firm, slick touch. "This place is such a strange blend of the old and modern. Fire-heated water, hand laundry, and Dove soap."

"And Herbal Essences shampoo."

Quinn laughed softly, happily lost in a haze of pleasure as her vampire companion thoroughly washed one of her arms, then the other.

He turned her away from him, lifting her hands, placing her palms against the wall as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. "Keep your hands there and move back, bend over."

"I don't think . . ."

His hand slid softly up her spine. "Trust me."

"I have no idea why I should do that," she muttered, but did as he asked, the water hitting her lower back, her body beginning to tremble in anticipation of his touch. And she didn't have long to wait. A moment later, soapy hands were sliding over her back and shoulders, down over her hips. But his touch was firm, no-nonsense, as he thoroughly cleaned one leg and foot, then the other. Disappointed, she was beginning to think he truly meant to take no advantage at all. Until his foot tapped her inner ankle.

"Spread your legs." She did, and, a moment later, one soap-slick finger started at the base of her spine and slid down, over her anus, and further, straight into her hot, wet core. She cried out, arching her back at the pleasure.

His other hand, equally slick, corralled her from the other side, sliding across her stomach, delving into her nether curls, finding and plucking at the center of her pleasure. His mouth caressed her shoulder, her back, her neck as both of his hands played her until she was rocking, crying out, screaming with release. And then she was in his arms, her back against his chest, one of his hands covering her breast, the other deep between her legs, finger-f*cking her, milking the orgasm for all it was worth.