The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(56)

"Your hands balled as if you were preparing to fight."

"And that frightened you?"

He snorted, and she could almost hear a smile in the sound.

Her chest gave a strange little ache. She wanted to see that smile with an intensity that surprised her. "Some people do fear me, believe it or not."

"I'm sure they do."

Feigning a casualness she didn't feel, she leaned her weight against his legs. He didn't back away, but accepted the weight as his due. She reached back and caressed his legs, up and down, soft and sweet. Her palms burned as she wrapped her fingers around his ankles.

Without any warning, she jerked his feet out from under him.

Caught off guard, he crashed to the ground without even reaching for an anchor, unable to breathe as his lungs emptied. She rocked to her feet, twisted and leapt. Before he could rise, she was straddling his chest.

"You were saying, vampire?"

There was a brief glitter of admiration in his azure eyes, quickly extinguished. "Nice move. Obviously a favorite of yours." No smile as she'd craved, but she could still hear amusement in his voice.

"Thank you. And, yes, I do prefer it."

Slowly he leaned up on his elbows. She flipped her hair over one shoulder, baring her neck, and tilted her head to the side. "Come. I'm tired of waiting for you to begin. Let's get this over with."

He shook his head. "I will not bite you there." Even as he uttered the restriction, he peered at her throat and licked his lips hungrily. "Your teammates will see the wound, and they will not like that you were with me." His voice was thick, almost slurred, as if he'd had too much wine.

"Then where?"

His gaze instantly lowered to her inner thigh.

Another shiver traveled through her.

"Do you like the thought of my mouth there?" he whispered fiercely. Before she could answer, however, he gave another head shake, anger dancing in his eyes. "Never mind. Do not answer. I find that I am more like my men than I thought and I don't want to hear about your desires."

She answered, anyway, for she would not allow him to reduce her to a thing, an object without feeling. When his mouth was on her, he would think of her, and no one else. Know she was hot for him, eager. "Yes. I love it. Dream of it. Crave it."

His pupils dilated, and he sucked in a breath. Against her thigh, she could feel the swift beat of his heart. She blinked her eyes, nothing more, and suddenly she was on her back. He loomed over her, white hair falling like a curtain to brush her cheeks.

"We shall see if you like it after."

"Plan to purposely hurt me?" His scent wafted to her, and there was power in it, something spicy and male. She inhaled deeply, savoring, and their chests brushed, hardness to softness. Her nipples instantly pearled, desperate for contact.

"Spread your legs," he gritted out, ignoring her question.

A command. Though she'd once claimed she would never obey him, she found herself doing exactly as he'd ordered. Her blood was so blistering it had already liquefied her bones.

His heavy weight settled more firmly atop her.

Warm water lapped at her feet, rising higher and higher up her legs, her sides, her shoulders, as if it wanted to caress her. Several strands of hair swished and waved around her, ribbons against her sensitized skin.

"I warned you. Told you to stay away from me. But here you are." Layel crawled backward to his knees. He stared down at her, his face now unreadable. The rest of him, well...there was banked strength in every tensed muscle.

Her stomach quivered. "Here I am. Delilah. Yours." For now. The thought saddened her.

His nostrils flared. His hands hung at his sides, the nails elongated. She imagined them on her body, raking. Stinging a little. Then, of course, he would lick away the pain with a hot flick of his tongue. She would beg for more, so he would turn his focus between her legs, touching...Oh, gods. She shivered as moisture pooled there.

He gave an animalistic growl, pure predator. "Tell me true. No lies. Have you ever before been bitten by a vampire?"

"Yes. It was not pleasant."

His hands moved to her waist and squeezed. In jealousy that he wasn't her first bite? "So you are not addicted to our...ministrations."

"Hardly."

"You say that as though it isn't a possibility - but I assure you that when done right, it can be pleasurable. I wonder, though. Why let me do this here and now if you hate it so?"

Somehow he radiated more of that delicious heat. It surrounded her, dangerous, overshadowing everything in its path and leaving only...a woman. The warrior inside her had long since said goodbye. Would Layel bite her the right way? Make it pleasurable for her?

"Well?" he demanded.

"Curiosity," she told him, giving him the same answer she'd given herself.

"I don't think so."

"All that tells me is that you should think less." She didn't want to tell him the truth, that she couldn't bear the thought of him going to someone else. Possessiveness was as new to her as this all-consuming need.

"Do you want my teeth inside you or not?"

"You talk too much, too."

"Probably," he said, but made no move toward her.

Indecision played over his expression, his first hint of emotion since rising above her. Battle-trained as she was, she suspected he hoped to talk himself out of this. Probably hoped her answers to his questions would aid him in that.