Her heart tripped over the pain he seemed to carry in the cast of his eyes and the set of his shoulders. He unleashed every protective and nurturing instinct in her body—she wanted to be the one to take away whatever hurt him, or to comfort him, at the very least. And there was absolutely no denying that all the angst and restlessness that had been making her feel unsettled in her skin lately, that had been getting worse and worse these past weeks, mostly disappeared in his presence.
There was no refuting the physical attraction, either. As close as they were, it was miles too far apart. She embraced his big shoulders, pulling, tugging, needing him closer. Her body remembered her unfulfilled need from the night before, spiking her arousal and creating an urgent ache between her legs. God, she wanted him…wanted him…in her.
Her hands fell to his waist and gripped at the fabric of his tee, burrowing under. His skin was warm and smooth over hard, flexing muscles. She pushed the shirt higher, needing to feel more, explore more, to know if he was this amazing everywhere.
Abruptly, Nikolai wrenched back from the kiss, and he looked every bit of the creature he was. Lips red, mouth open, fangs protruding, eyes aglow. Unease flared in her stomach. He was going to pull away. Like before. She dug her nails into his sides, willing him to stay. He reached back with one arm and tore the shirt over his head.
Relief crashed through her and she moaned in admiration of the artwork decorating his skin. A massive stylized black eagle spread its wings across his pecs and its tail curled down over the carved muscles of his stomach. Its golden claws wielded swords, and its regal head bore a crown. It was a fascinating, beautiful play on the Russian coat of arms. Symbols she didn’t recognize adorned his right arm, from wrist to biceps, the black ink against his fair skin such a stunning, attractive contrast.
Inexperience be damned, she was drawn to taste him. Pushing onto tiptoes, Kate pressed an openmouthed kiss over his nipple and sucked him in. Oh, he tasted of that incredible spice he wore on his skin. She couldn’t get enough. She kissed and licked across his chest, and his hands fisted in her hair—holding her or tugging her away, she couldn’t be sure.
He grasped her chin and nudged her mouth up, then kissed her eyes, her nose, the corner of her lips. “So beautiful.”
Each kiss, each touch, each word washed away the last of her uncertainty until she knew she would give him anything he wanted. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared, because she was, but everything in her, down to the very marrow of her bones, told her he was worth the risk.
“May I…I want to do something for you,” he said around a kiss.
“Anything,” she whispered, her lips trailing down the hard angle of his jaw to his neck. Tight crisscrosses of black thread were the only evidence of his terrible wound. Taking care to be gentle, she pressed a featherlight kiss atop his stitches.
“Oh, angel,” he groaned. The sound rumbled against her breasts, adding to the electric tingling making her pussy slick and needy. He grasped the hem of her sweater, then his whole face slid into a scowl. “Goddammit.” Looking over his shoulder, he barked. “Camera off. Now.”
As she watched, the red blinking light on the unit went dark.
Her sweater was up and over her head as the heat of a blush warmed her face, but she was so deep into Nikolai, she found she couldn’t think long on her embarrassment that someone—some vampire—had been watching them together. She gasped at the sensation of the cold bars pressing stripes into the skin of her back. Big hands cupped the sides of her breasts and his mouth fell to her cleavage. He kissed and nibbled, dragging the tips of his fangs across the mounds in a tantalizing threat. She threw her head back against the door and silently begged him to do it.
Oh, shit, she was so far down the rabbit hole with him. And, God help her, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She carded her fingers into his hair, loving the thick silkiness of it, and embraced him as he sucked her nipple through the thin satin of her bra.
He gripped the back of her left wrist and pulled it to his mouth. “This is what I must…” He trailed off and laved his tongue against the red marks on her arm.
She moaned as his saliva tingled against the cuts and abrasions. It didn’t hurt. Just the opposite. It brought such maddeningly beautiful relief. The sensation ricocheted through her and had her writhing against him. He hummed something that sounded like satisfied approval and slid a thick muscled thigh tight between her legs. She cried out at the glorious friction and couldn’t help but rock her hips against him.