Free Crimson Psyche by Lynda Hilburn

resisted. It was much more fun watching him disrobe and crawl onto the bed. Much more arousing.
    His naked form definitely qualified as eye-candy: long and lean, with muscles in all the right places. He was always comfortable in his own skin, so at ease with his nudity. I guess it was to be expected that he’d enjoy it after all the centuries he’d inhabited that skin.
    “Eternity as a sex object. What man could ask for more?” I put my thoughts into words.
    “I am interested in being a sex object only for you,” he said as he lay on his side and stretched out next to me. He braced his head with one hand and smiled, watching me. Then he trailed a finger across my lips. “You are wearing entirely too many clothes. What might we do to correct that situation?”
    Bursting with ideas, I rolled toward him and let my gaze slide down his body, allowing my eyes to take detours in order to appreciate the natural wonders along the route. One monument in particular stood out from the scenery and my hand reached over to explore.
    Devereux groaned. There simply was nothing like a lusty Devereux groan. His voice was always enticing and magical, but the erotic sensuality he layered into that deep, growling sound sent waves of pleasure through my body, hardened my nipples and caused moisture to pool in my nether regions, it was so good.
    I tightened my fingers around his erection, then slowly released my grip. “I know just what to do with all these clothes,” I whispered. I kicked off my shoes and heard them land on the lush carpet. Then, pretending to be a stripper popping out of a cake, I sprang to my feet on the bed, peeled the soft dress over my head and tossed it onto the floor. Next went my black lace bra and matching panties. I bounced up and down on the mattress a couple of times, just for the fun of it — causing the bloodsucking hunk at my feet to bark out a laugh — then threw myself down on my back. Smiling, I fitted my naked body against his. “So, where were we?”
    His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Let me see if I remember.” He smoothed the palm of his hand over my breast and pinched my painfully hard nipple, then he leaned in, caught my lower lip between his teeth and descended fangs and gave me a playful nip.
    I gasped and he pulled away, probably thinking he’d hurt me, so to show him the error of his conclusion, I circled his neck with my arms, guided him in closer, pressed my lips to his and eased my tongue into his mouth. I’d been surprised to learn during our first sexual encounter that Devereux loved to have his fangs sucked on, as much as another part of his anatomy. In fact, sliding my tongue up and down his canines had much the same effect as what I planned to do next.
    I started to slide my fingers down toward the hardness pushing against my stomach when he captured my hands, raised them over my head and climbed on top of me.
    He used his legs to nudge mine apart and with no more foreplay, slid deep inside, and I moaned. Oh, yeah. That’s a good plan, too.
    He lifted his mouth just enough to mumble, “I have missed you these last few days. I hate it when I must be away, but it cannot be helped. All I could think about was this — filling you, having you wrap your legs around me while I make love to you. Listening to your heartbeat. Possessing you.” He lowered his lips back to mine.
    Whoa . That was pretty much all I could think about at that moment as well.
    His wish came true as his thrusts grew more vigorous, and I tightened my legs around his hips and took him as deep as I could. Within seconds, a delicious orgasm built and I felt his subtle contractions as he approached his own edge.
    Giving another marvelous groan, he broke the kiss and whispered, “Will you give me your blood, my love?”
    “Definitely yes,” I mumbled, turning my head so he could lick the welcoming vein in my neck.
    Geez — what is it about that question? Why does it always melt me into a puddle of hormonal