Page 34 of Tempting the Dhampir

Yet, I can actually feel myself getting turned on by the image of us in front of this window, my pussy getting slick as I allow the picture to linger.

Stop thinking with your pussy, Sadie.

“Sparkles. Do you like our room that much?” Everett’s voice is like a sweet caress from the other side of the room, causing my nipples to pebble.

“What do you mean?” How could he possibly know what’s going on in my head?

“My sweet sparkles, remember I said I have heightened senses? I can smell how wet you’re getting.”

Oh, fuck. I’m screwed. And not like how I want to be screwed.

I can feel the flush across my cheeks, burning my ears, making me too embarrassed to turn around in case I look like a flaming tomato.

I make eye contact with his reflection in the window. He’s leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, gaze riveted on me.

“I clearly have a love for shiny things, and this kind of exceeds expectations right now. You chose well and I’m just appreciating it,” I admit, all nonchalant.

“I’m really enjoying the view too,” Everett says, his voice like liquid seduction.

“You mean my butt? Or are you too shy to say that directly?” I taunt the monster boldly.

“Shy? No. But I am trying to be respectful.” This man is all shades from sex to respect.

I shake my head in disbelief and counter with a casualness that belies the state of my panties. “Maybe I don’t want you to be respectful.”

“What do you need, sparkles? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Everett’s baritone is now a whole octave lower, rough with lust.

“I don’t think you can if you’re being ‘respectful.’” I add in quotes. “Sometimes a woman needs to be a little disrespected.”

On my next blink, Everett is behind me. Close, but not quite touching. He reaches forward and moves my hair over my right shoulder, careful not to touch my skin. Then he bends down and skims his nose down the left side of my neck where it meets my shoulder.

Goose bumps erupt along my skin as I tilt my head to the right to grant him more access. He takes a deep breath in, then releases it on a sensual groan. My core clenches around nothing as the sound washes over me.

Everett reaches both arms around me to place his hands on the glass, right next to my own, caging me in but still not touching.

Keeping his nose in the crook of my neck, he lets his lips brush against the tender skin as he asks in a low voice, “What does being disrespected look like to you? Is it me touching you whenever and however I want? Is it playing with you until you’re dripping and begging me to satisfy that ache? Is it a gentle hand around your throat right when you’re about to climax? Is it me taking you right here, bending you over until you scream while you enjoy the view? Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

My breaths have become shallow pants. A tremor of arousal runs down my spine, pooling in my panties.

And now I know he can smell it.

In a breathy voice that doesn’t sound like mine at all, I ask, “What if I say yes to all of the above?”

“Then just ask me, and I’ll do everything I said… and more.” The promise is plain in the growl of his voice.

“Just ask?” I pant.

Everett’s response is smug as he takes a step back. “Ask? I meant beg.”

The loss of his body makes me feel cold, yanking me out of the fantasy. I turn around and scowl, ready to lay into him. Then I see the evidence of his arousal tenting his pants.

Despite the arrogant mask on his face, it can’t hide how affected he is by me too.

Donning a cocky expression, mirroring Everett’s, I put a hand on my waist. I move my assessing gaze over his body, lingering on the telltale sign of his attraction to me.

With all my confidence in my own abilities, I say, “I told you I won’t be the one begging. But you’ve just upped the stakes. Care to wager who will fold first?”

“So you agree that we are inevitable?” Everett counters.

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