Page 16 of By the Pint

Yes, kiss me, I said, out loud or in my head. I wasn’t sure.

His tongue traced the seam of my lips, like he was committing the shape of them to his memory. I couldn’t help the needy little whine that left my throat, as his fingers worked farther into my hair and his tongue found its way inside my mouth and slid against my own. He growled, actually growled, like the predator he was when I matched his urgent strokes. He tasted like the icy air of a wintery night, like peppermint, and like the ferrous tang of blood. Like when you bite the inside of your cheek, only without the actual blood. Or the pain.

Only it felt so fucking good.

My fingers worked their way down the back of his neck, to his shoulder blades. I pulled his body closer. Squeezing out the last gaps between us.

His thoughts began easing out. Like a curtain had fallen, exposing the actors backstage.Gods … tastes so sweet … so fucking warm … want more.

Killian had been right. Dima Black was lowering his control. Or losing it, more likely. The plan was working.

And yet … fuck the plan.

What had we even been talking about anyway?

Right then, it was impossible for me to pull focus away from the man beneath my arms. From the cool, unyielding body of the most beautiful vampire I’d ever met. I couldn’t even think about the plan for longer than a tenth of a second.

Dima kissed me like he needed me to survive. Hard, then soft. Fast and wild, then slow and teasing. His tongue explored every corner of my mouth. His hands gripped my neck. His thumbs traced idle circles over my pulse. He didn’t need to pause for breath, but he hardly gave me enough time to either.

I ran my lips and tongue over his fangs. Sharp, even though they were sheathed. I wanted to draw my blood against them, wanted him to want me in every possible way. But whenever it reached the point of piercing my skin, Dima adjusted our positions, pulling away slightly, leaving me panting into his mouth.

I’m not strong enough to resist,he thought.Don’t make me … I can’t …

Eventually, Dima removed his lips from mine. Pressed our foreheads together. I used this time to catch my breath.

“Sean?” he said.

Sean?!

Oh, right, Sean.

“I have about ten minutes before I need to get indoors.” He turned both our heads to the band of lilac beginning to crest the horizon. Suddenly, my surroundings came crashing back into clarity. The cool morning air, the dew from the grass dampening my socks within my shoes, and the cacophonous dawn chorus ringing out like an alarm.

“It was really lovely to … meet you.” Dima’s eyes darted between mine. I wished so hard I was able to read his thoughts right then.

After a few silent moments, he got to his feet, offered me a crooked smile, and began walking back towards the castle. My heart sank into my gut.

If I went home empty-handed, who knew how long it would be until my appointment with immortality came up. This entire trip would have been a waste of time. My five-going-on-thirteen-year plan a complete clusterfuck of failures.

“Wait!” I said.

Plus, I really was not ready to say goodbye to him. Not yet anyway.

Dima paused, and though he didn’t turn to look at me, I knew he was smiling. If I wasn’t so horny, I’d have been grinning too.

I stood, and disappeared the gap between us, pressing my chest against his back, and nestling my erection between the perfect cool firmness of his cheeks. I groaned at the contact. “I’m not done with you.”

“Your room or mine?”

6.

Dima

We walked side by side along the moonlit castle path. Casey’s athletically long legs kept me in constant catch-up mode, though he was only a couple of inches taller than me. I tried not to float beside him, tried to remember to use my knees, and walk, like a human would. I didn’t want to give away my telekinesis.

Casey still hadn’t figured out why he couldn’t read my thoughts, but I’d only felt one minty penetrative attempt from him since meeting at the bloodbath. It seemed … unethical perhaps, that I saw into his mind, and had blocked access to mine. But if I let him in, he’d take what he thought he wanted from me, and would be on his way back to Killian in no time. I wouldn’t be accompanying him to his hotel room.

Maybe I was using him. Maybe I should have taken the moral high ground and called it a night. But he was using me too. Or, at least, trying to. And he was willing, and incredibly hot, andso I forgave myself this once. Or, since I hadn’t had sex in over thirty years, my dick forgave me.

---