“You’re one to talk, praying mantis.”
“The men I lured into bathrooms weren’t prospective lovers.”
He reached around and squeezed the ends of my wet hair in front. “Neither are the women I bed. They’re just… recreational. Lover is a serious word. It implies commitment and devotion.”
“I thought that was marriage.”
“That’s an archaic tradition for humans. Some Breeds mate or bond, but that requires exclusivity.”
“Lovers aren’t exclusive?”
His thumb traced across my clavicle. “Haven’t you ever taken a lover?”
The air between us crackled.
I no longer had the fear of him charming me and stared deep into his bottomless eyes. Maybe it was foolish to trust a Vampire, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. His dark lashes matched his hair, and serious eyebrows framed his black eyes. Despite being a Vampire, he had wolfish characteristics. I tried to imagine how handsome his blue eyes must have been against his roguish features, but I couldn’t. Black eyes were the only color that seemed fitting for Christian, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. They had a luster and mystery to them all their own.
“Will you take me to see him?”
“Aye, Precious. I’ll make good on my promise.”
My voice fell to a whisper. “Why do you have this effect on me?”
The pad of his thumb smoothed over my lips, and he looked upon me with fascination. “Your lips are soft.”
I got up and walked away. “We can’t do this.”
Christian appeared out of nowhere and pinned me to the wall, dark hunger simmering in his gaze. “You are torturously beautiful. I need to taste you.”
I flattened my back against the wall as he loomed even closer. “You can’t have my blood.”
He leaned in, his voice silken. “That’s not what I want to taste.”
The water lifted a scent off him that I couldn’t get enough of. He gazed at me like a predator until our lips touched…
And melted me where I stood.
Christian didn’t kiss me tenderly, but with fire. He cupped my nape and stepped closer until our bodies joined.
When our tongues met, I quivered with need. Best of all, I could touch him without the fear of my sexual energy knocking him out. No sparks that came from my fingertips compared to the electricity I felt when wrapped in his arms. Christian tasted just as I’d imagined.
Andoh God, how I’d imagined it.
His lips were soft but insistent, like a man who knew when to take what he wanted and yet savored the hunt. I moaned, clawing at his shirt as if we were still in that river. He gripped the corner of the wall, and the rock crumbled beneath his fingertips, reminding me of his incredible power. Yet he held me like an ordinary man.
When I nibbled on his bottom lip, Christian grabbed my ass and pulled me against him, his erection demanding and hard against my belly. He was several inches taller than me, even more since I didn’t have my shoes on. I stood on my tiptoes—one leg hooked around his—and as he deepened the kiss, something came over me.
Déjà vu.
My fangs elongated, and he stroked one of them with the tip of his tongue.
I drew back to catch my breath. “It’s your blood, isn’t it? That’s what’s making me feel this way.”
The sound of rushing water drowned out my racing heart.
Christian stroked my cheek, his lips still swollen from my kiss. “It’s not the blood.”
“Then why is this so familiar? Why does it feel like I’ve tasted your kiss before?”
