Archangel's Blade (Guild Hunter 4)

Lucky her.

“Keep doing that,” he murmured in a voice that was the most opulent fur over her skin, “and I’ll have you kneeling between my legs sucking on something much harder.”

She caught his finger between her teeth, a sensual punishment for words that might as well have come from some uncivilized barbarian. “Floor would be tough on the knees,” she said after releasing him, feeling hotly, gloriously female. “Next time I suck you, I want to be kneeling on a nice comfy sofa.”

“I live to grant your wishes.” Finger glistening from her mouth, he dipped it back in the honey and painted both her ni**les with a precise, near-delicate touch, before beginning to create an intricate curving pattern on the slopes of her br**sts. “Don’t move.”

It was pure torture to sit motionless as he caressed her with long, slow, sticky motions of his finger, his body big and hard and aroused beneath her, his erection so very close that she had fantasies of ripping off his pants and mounting him, his thick flesh pushing into her in rigid demand.

Dmitri’s eyes glittered as they met hers and she wondered what he saw. But all he said was, “Be a good girl, Honor, or I’ll have to punish you.”

A big, rough hand spanking her with erotic heat between her thighs, his fingers becoming slick with her need as she tugged against the bonds that tied her to the bed . . . and allowed her no room to defend herself.

She shuddered as the fantasy formed full-blown in her mind. “Maybe I”—she swallowed as he painted a line down to her navel, drawing a curving design a half inch above the low waistband of her jeans—“would enjoy your version of punishment.”

“Hmm.” He ran his finger back up. “It wouldn’t be punishment then, would it?” A sensual threat from a dangerous creature who knew how to play every facet of a woman’s body. “Now, come here.” Curving his hand around her body, he pressed his palm onto her back.

She gasped as the honey met her skin. “I’m all sticky.”

“Come make me sticky.”

Having no objection to pasting herself against his body, she crushed her br**sts to his chest. “We’re going to make an awful mess.” She couldn’t help but claim his mouth, that beautiful, sexy mouth that was becoming her most sinful indulgence.

He let her take him, let her suck on his tongue and ride her body against his cock, but the material of her jeans was thick and she couldn’t feel him like she wanted. When his hands clenched on her thighs, it was a silent demand. Breaking the kiss, she separated their honey-coated bodies with a husky moan and rose to her feet to undo her belt, throw it to the side.

Then, as Dmitri watched, she flicked open the button at the waistband of her jeans and pushed down the zipper to reveal the front of her red panties. Urging her forward with his hands on her hips, Dmitri reached in to trace the tiny black bow, the intimate touch making her want to beg him to move that hand lower, rub harder. Except—“What if I—”

He kissed her navel, right above her panties, the kiss hot and wet.

Her toes curled, and the only reason she remained upright was because of his hold.

“Then,” he said, answering the question he hadn’t let her complete, “we try again. We try all night because I have every intention of taking what’s mine.”

She ran her fingers through the heavy black silk of his hair. “Possessive much?”

The smile he gave her was lethal in its impact. She’d known from the start that she was perilously vulnerable to him, but it was at that moment that she realized she could deny him nothing. It was a terrible weakness, but one that was fused so very deep into her psyche, she knew there was no fighting it, no ignoring it.

My Dmitri.

Stepping back, she shimmied out of her jeans and threw them aside. But when she would’ve straddled him again, he shook his head, nudged her toward the table. A blush crept up her body as she perched on the smooth pine, her knees demurely closed. Shifting his chair closer, he slid his hands down her thighs to cup the backs of her knees, her calves, and it was a tormenting pleasure. She allowed those knowing hands to caress her, to part her knees and spread her thighs as he directed her to put her feet on the chair on either side of his body.

She felt exposed, naked, though she still wore her panties. “Dmitri.” Stroking up honey from her body, she shaped his lips with her fingertip. His jaw was hard under her hand as she cupped his face and kissed him, slow and sweet and a little bit wicked, biting down on that slightly full lower lip.

He moved his hands over her thighs, squeezed. And then he nipped back.

It zinged a ripple of pleasure right through her. Eyes wide, she stared at him, this gorgeous creature more dangerous than any vampire she’d ever before known. She’d thought any hint of a bite would make her freak out. Swallowing, she looked down at his hands. “My thigh,” she whispered. “Do it.”

Not saying a word, he wiped up honey from his chest and ran a line down the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. It made her tremble, but the tremor wasn’t caused by fear. Not yet. However, the instant he bent his head to her flesh, she froze. Not stopping, he closed his teeth on her. The bite was more a tease than anything, with not even a hint of fang. Trembling, she said, “Do it again.”

He gave her another teasing kiss. Another.

Until her body couldn’t hold the tension any longer and she shuddered, melting into his touch, his seduction. Long, slow licks, small, playful bites, hard sucks, he gave her all of them. But he didn’t sink his fangs into her flesh, didn’t draw up her blood. “When I feed from you,” he murmured, “it won’t be a rushed thing. I plan to savor every hot second of it.” He tugged her forward, reaching up to play with the thin black ribbons on the sides of her panties, his lips a little swollen from her kisses, his bones sharply defined against that warm, beautiful skin. “Lie back.”

Shivering at the dark seduction of him, she took a deep breath and bent over to lie on the table, laughing when her back met the warmth of the wood. “Sticky.”

Lifting up her legs until her knees were hooked up over his shoulders, he ran a finger down the very center of her panties. “Hmm, yes.”

Her brain couldn’t quite process his statement, her nerves short-circuited by that single touch. Again, she waited for the fear. Again, it didn’t come. That was when she made the connection. This, with Dmitri, it was about pleasure.

“Forgive me.”