He abruptly stopped walking and she wondered for one moment if she had miscalculated as he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, his body so still she didn't breathe herself. Maybe touching his teeth was against vampire ettiquete. She should have asked.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should have asked you before I touched them," she pulled her hand away, feeling ashamed, her cheeks lighting with that embarrassed heat. He grabbed her retreated hand in one of his fists holding her wrist somehow both gently but firmly.
"You can touch them. I want you to," he rumbled out. "But I have to apologize now."
"For what?"
"We're not going to make it to my house." And then in a swift move she was on the ground, something soft padding her shoulders as he slid down her body, his large hands pushing the red nightgown up her thighs, his mouth up the skin as he uncovered it.
She watched him, her eyes taking in his large form as he kneeled between her legs, hooking them over his shoulders and shoving his hands beneath her hips and jerking her up until she was tilted. She gasped, losing her balance as she fell back onto the soft ground.
The first thing she felt was cool air on her bare skin just before his mouth didn't waste time teasing her. He dove in.
And his mouth was hot-hotter than it had been when he was kissing her. It felt like a brand on her tender skin, not burning in pain but branding her still.
She cried out, her eyes closing at the intensity. His tongue licked expertly, learning her, tasting, savoring.
She felt savored.
She felt adored when he hummed deep, the sound vibrating against where she was the most sensitive.
"Give me your eyes, love."
She opened them at his command and looked down at him watching her, his eyes pure black. It was a moment of connection, she felt a tie knot between them as he stared at her, her heart beating and fluttering, her body aching. And then he went back to devouring.
She watched, something she'd never done before and it was a whole other sense that she could barely contain as she watched him grip her thighs and give her one, long lick making her moan again. Then he pulled back, his head tilted as he brusheda thumb over the thin skin on the inside of her right thigh before he dove down and latched his mouth there, and her hands grabbed onto grass and plants as she braced herself to feel his fangs pierce her skin.
But it didn't come and she was a little disappointed until he sucked that spot hard, pulling on another string inside of her, making her press the back of her hand against her mouth at the pleasure. That felt amazing.
But watching him study his work on her thigh, to watch his face fill with pleasure at the possession made something dip inside of her.
She felt high, a lightness and languid feeling that was warm. It intensified when he rose up over her, staring down into her eyes with that look as he ran the backs of his fingers over the apple of her cheek, which she could feel was flushed pink.
"I pictured what you would look like just this way, with me filling your body and mind with desire and with the drunkenness of near-pleasure. I imagined you looking up at me this way." His fingers gently ran down the side of her neck to where her lifesource pulsed. She felt a jump there, as his fingertips kissed the delicate skin. Something inside of her called to him.
Or he to her.
She did feel drunk on near-pleasure and she had little filter.
"I want you to," she said and his eyes shot from where he touched her neck to her eyes.
"You want me to what?" He asked it carefully, slowly. His eyes dared her and also hoped.
When she didn't answer him he dipped down, running the tip of his nose along the skin there making her open her mouth, her body tilting up to him in response.
"Say it," he whispered darkly, his teeth lightly scraping making her gasp and dig her fingernails into his back.
Her robe was splayed open and her white nightgown was pushed up to her waist, her underwear having been taken off and discarded and held himself above her with inches between their bodies. Too much space. She needed to feel him, to feel his solidness against her.
"Bite my neck," she finally got out. It was quietly said, unsure how she should say it or ask, hoping she didn't do it wrong.
But there was clearly nothing wrong with what she said because he groaned, dropping the weight of him down into her, all of his hardness pressed into all of her and it was sublime.
She had no idea that just this, just the weight of him would give her pleasure, but it was like she was itching all over and only this could begin to assuage the malady.
She instinctively curled around him and then he rolled them over pulling her on top of him. The move had her reeling and once oriented she saw him gazing up at her, contemplation lining his eyes. She had been wrong before; they weren't pure black. There was a soft amber ring around the outer edge. Ebony and amber. Her eyes dipped to his mouth and she realized she was waiting for him to answer her request.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked her, one of his hands wrapped around the side of her neck and the other holding her hip.
