Free Heart of the Dragon by Gena Showalter

jerked her hands down and shoved the chain into her pocket. She gave another ear-piercing scream to cover her satisfaction.
    “Calm down,” he said, his features pinched.
    “Bite me.” She screamed again.
    When she quieted, he said, “I would be most upset if you damaged my ears.”
    Upset? He would be most upset. Not infuriated, not lost in a rage. Simply mildly upset. Somehow, with this man, that seemed all the more frightening than out-of-control fury. With a deep, shuddering breath, she relaxed into the floor. After all, she had what she wanted, and fighting him did nothing more than press their bodies together, as he was fond of reminding her.
    His brows winged up, and he blinked, broadcasting his shock at her easy compliance.
    “That easily?” he asked, suspicious.
    “I know when I’m beaten.”
    Darius used her stillness to his advantage and allowed more of his muscled weight to settle atop her. He braced her wrists above her head—something he obviously liked to do, since it was the third time he’d done it to her—causing her back to arch and her breasts to lift for his view.
    “You wish for me to bite you?” he asked, dead serious.
    Briefly she experienced confusion. Then she realized what he meant. Oh, my God. She had told him to bite her. Something dark and hot twisted in her stomach, something she had no business feeling for this man. An image of his straight white teeth sinking into her body and taking a little nibble filled her line of vision. Erotic and sexual; except…
    If he were a vampire, she’d just given him an open invitation to make her his next meal.
    “I didn’t mean it literally,” she managed to squeak out. “It’s just a figure of speech.” With barely a pause, she added, “Please. Get off me.” He smelled so good, so masculine, like the sun, the earth and the sea, and she was sucking in great gulps of that scent as if it were the key to her survival. He was beyond dangerous. “Please,” she said again.
    “Too much do I like where I am.”
    Those words echoed in her mind with such clarity her body offered a reply: I like where you are, too. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip. How did he do this? How did he make her feel strangely captivated and oddly entranced, yet fearful at the same time? He was quite possibly a bloodsucking vampire. He was also so sexy he made her mouth water. Made her ache in places she’d thought dead from disuse. Made her crave and fantasize and hunger.
    Get a hold of yourself, Grace. Only an idiot would lust after a man of questionable origins and even more questionable motives.
    What did he want from her? She studied his face, but found no hint of his intentions. His features werecompletely blank. Her gaze probed deeper, taking in the scar that slashed down his cheek, raised and puckered, interrupting the flow of his dark eyebrows. This close, she noticed the slant to his nose, as if it had been broken one too many times.
    He was darkly seductive. Dangerous, her mind repeated.
    That’s it, she realized reproachfully. That’s why I’m so attracted to him. I’m a danger junkie.
    “What did you do to your hands, woman?” he suddenly demanded. His features were no longer blank, but projected a fierceness that was beyond intimidating.
    “If I tell you,” she said, faltering in the face of that severity, “will you let me go?”
    His eyes narrowed, and he brought one of her palms to his mouth. Heated lips seared her flesh before the tip of his tongue flicked out, licking and laving the wounds. Electric currents raced through her arm, and she almost experienced an orgasm right then and there.
    “Why are you doing that?” she asked on a breathless moan. Whatever the reason, his actions were utterly suggestive, endearingly sweet, and she gasped at the deliciousness of it. “Stop.” But even as she spoke, she prayed he didn’t heed her command. Her skin was growing increasingly warm, her nerve-endings increasingly sensitive. A drugging