Bitten Beauty (The Deadly Beauties Live On 3)

He pushes my hands above my head, and he suddenly becomes naked, while I struggle against his hold.

“Let me touch you,” I beg.

“No.” He kisses me. Hard. Then he adjusts his hips so that he’s ready to push inside.

“Let me touch you,” I beg again.

“The second you touch me—while we’re like this—I’ll take you, Leah. All of you. This is the only way.”

He lifts me off the couch, and he twists my hands behind my back as he carries me with my legs dangling. His mouth stays on mine, devouring me, owning me, driving me crazy…

He pulls my hands in front of me, keeping them pressed together so I can’t touch him. Something soft finds my wrists, and I break the kiss when I realize he’s tying my hands together.

“What are you doing?” I ask, struggling.

“I want my hands all over you, and you’re weak when you’re in my arms. You aren’t at full strength. It’s the sire calling. You become the prey instead of the predator. This will be strong enough to hold you while I do what-the-fuck-ever I want to with your body.”

Leah Cartwright would knee a guy in the balls for that. Or run as fast and far away as possible. But right now, I’m not Leah Cartwright. I’m just his.

“Don’t say it,” he whispers, as though he sees the look in my eyes and can read my mind. “Please, for fuck’s sake, don’t say it, baby. I’ll take you if you do. All of you.”

He kisses me like he’s desperate to keep my lips from moving, and then he shoves me onto the bed before tying my hands to the post above us. He stretches me out, and he slowly slides that tongue down my body again.

“Gag me,” I whisper. “It’s all I want to say.”

He tenses against me, but he quickly grabs a scarf, and gently, he ties it around my mouth so that I’m gagged and trussed up like some freaky little kink girl.

It’s hard work to be a sex toy to a vampire.

His eyes lock on mine, and he trails a finger down my chest, slowly working it down my body. My breaths get faster, harsher, and wheeze around my makeshift gag, but it’s because of him. Not because I’m uncomfortable.

I don’t even know whose silky scarf is in my mouth, and I can’t ask.

My mind loses all thought when his lips start trailing down, slowly working their way back down my body. He parts my legs, spreading me wide for him, and my eyes roll back in my head as a moan escapes me when he latches onto that bundle of nerves again.

I cry out, but it’s muffled and garbled by the scarf in my mouth, and Zee continues to toy with me, bringing me to the brink of ecstasy then leaving me bereft just before I fall of the edge.

By the third time he leaves me dangling, I’m squirming and tugging at the binds on my wrists. He holds me in place, letting those strong hands knead and caress various parts of my body, while firmly keeping me right where he wants me.

This time when he fastens his lips around that spot, he doesn’t stop. It’s almost painful when I explode off that edge, and my entire body tries to jerk away from him.

He shows mercy when he tears his mouth away and slowly kisses his way back up. His tongue plays along my side, then teases the flesh between my breasts before his lips run along my jaw.

I want him to kiss me, but it’s impossible to do with my mouth being gagged.

“I could get used to this,” he says in a reverent whisper as he leans back and appraises me.

I feel exposed and somewhat helpless, and for some sick reason, I love it.

He adjusts himself so that he’s sitting back on his legs with his knees bent, and he lifts my lower body so that he can align himself with me. My eyes absorb the sight of him… naked… sexy… sculpted… Fuck, he’s a dark dream come true.

With an excruciatingly slow pace, he pushes inside me, filling me inch by agonizing inch. His jaw tenses as he reaches the deepest point, and he runs his hands down my legs, curving them right where he wants them.

When his hands get to my hips again, he grips tightly, pulls back, and slams inside me deeply again. I moan and grunt in unison, which is a horribly unsexy sound to make, but Zee doesn’t seem to mind.

He sets a rhythm, and I fist my hands around their bindings, feeling my knuckles turn white with the grip. His glowing blue eyes hold my gaze, until suddenly he strikes without warning.