Dropping his head once more, Rome breathes on my skin, tracing his tongue over my neck, pressing it against my pulse. His hands rest on my hips as he presses his lips against my throat, teasing me with his fangs, giving just a little pressure without penetrating. He works his lips and teeth and tongue up and down the line of my neck, from ear to shoulder and back again, until my skin is hot and my heart beats hard. The heat spreads as he finds a spot he likes and presses just a bit harder, sending warmth dripping down my neck, down my body, into my belly and between my legs.
I gasp when he finally penetrates my skin, but it’s not from pain. The sensation isn’t any more painful than a piercing or a tattoo—nothing like when James tore at me like a dog with a bone. There’s a different feeling this time, more powerful than pain, more powerful than anything I can remember.
It’s primal.
Intimate.
Heat swirls through me, and my head rolls back, giving Rome even more access. I groan as my pulse beats hard in my throat, the heavy throb echoing in my core.
Rome’s hands are hot against me, pulling me closer. One presses into my back, holding me tight against him. His powerful thighs press against mine as he runs his other hand up my body, over my ribcage, brushing against my breast without actually caressing it. A little moan escapes me, and I realize with a shock that he’s hard. The thickness of his cock pulses against my belly, and my body responds, an irresistible molten need swirling through the deepest parts of me.
My arms are around him, nails digging into his shoulders. I don’t know when that happened, or when I started grinding against him, but I don’t want to stop.
I don’t ever want him to stop.
He’s still drinking from me, and every soft pull on my throat might as well be his tongue on my clit or his cock inside me. My head starts to spin, and I tremble as I arch against him, seeking something that feels just out of reach.
No wonder they call orgasms “little death.” He could kill me like this, and I’m not sure I’d even care.
But just as I’ve accepted a pleasurable death at Rome’s mouth, he pulls away.
Licking me slowly and sensually, he closes the wounds he’s opened. His mouth lingers for a moment, breathing on the sensitive skin, then he kisses my neck tenderly and pulls away. The look on his face sends an aftershock through me—I’ve only ever seen him look hard and cold, coolly disinterested or pissed off. But none of those things describe the way he looks right now.
His expression is full of heat, full of passion. His eyes are even darker than before, his pupils dilating so much that they’ve squeezed his irises into tiny rings. He breathes a heavy sigh, and it catches in his throat.
My skin is flushed and hot. I’m staring at him, unblinking, unable to look away. I can’t help it. I’m shocked and completely overwhelmed—I never imagined it could be like that.
I’m so turned on, so desperately close to coming. I’m afraid to take a step, afraid to even move, in case that little bit of friction sends me over the edge. I force my hands away from Rome’s shoulders, because all I want to do is pull him close, grind on him some more, and let nature take its course from there.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice low and a little rough.
I nod dumbly, not trusting myself to make words right now. What could I possibly say besides take me, I’m yours?
Someone nearby scoffs, snapping the almost trance-like state I’m in. My body jerks slightly, the peak of arousal beginning to fade like waves drawing back on a beach as I glance over Rome’s shoulder.
Oh, right, that fucking creep James. I forgot he was here.
“Very nice,” he says sarcastically, his lips pulling back in a sneer. “But if we have to romance all our fucking blood bags, what’s the point of even having them?”
Before Rome can answer, James slouches away, grumbling something about fast food and convenience stores.
I stop listening as soon as he passes through the doorway. I can barely hear a thing with my heart thundering in my ears, and I can’t seem to find my equilibrium with Rome still gazing down at me.
I don’t understand what just happened between us, but I know that on some level, it was much more dangerous than getting gnawed on by a vicious vamp.
Chapter Fourteen
As the buzz in my body slowly dies down, my rational brain switches frantically back on. I’m still turned on, terribly turned on, but at least I’m thinking semi-clearly again.
Rome wipes a few drops of blood off my shoulder, a few that he missed when cleaning up the other guy’s mess, and frowns sternly at the stain on his thumb.
“Not all vampires are… civilized,” he says, his mouth twisting in disgust. He turns those dark eyes back to mine, pinning me in place with the intensity of his gaze. “If any of them ever hurt you again, come tell me. I’ll handle it.”
I nod. I’m not planning on doing that at all, but I’ll agree with him for now. He is, after all, the apex predator in the room. I really want to know what he did to get on everybody’s bad side. How many brutal feedings did he have to interrupt to get himself banished from the palace? How long was he gone before he was allowed to return, and who still holds a grudge?
These questions and more are pressing against my throat, but I swallow them. I
