Page 139 of Even Vampires Bleed
I want my mouth on that tight little nipple.
I must say that out loud, because Cassiopé giggles and opens her door.
Except the smell that escapes the room makes her close her door right away.
“My room,” I tell her.
“You know that it used to be mine, actually,” she says between kisses.
I didn’t.
But that makes sense.
Her scent was all over the place, and I found women’s clothes in the wardrobe, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
Our hands barely leave each other’s bodies, and our lips keep pressing together on our way to my room—should I call it our room?—so to make it easier, I grab her by the waist and haul her against me.
She seems to understand what I want to do because her legs wrap around my hips and then her lips crash against mine again.
My hands grab her ass cheeks, and I’m not even ashamed that I’m moving her slowly so that she rubs against my hard on.
From the moans that escape her mouth when it’s not occupied tangling with mine, I don’t think she minds.
Not at all.
“Wait.”
She stops me when we reach the door.
I think she’s going to stop things here. Maybe she wants to take her time, and if it’s the case, I’ll respect her choice.
I’ll respect the shit out of her.
But I’ll need a very, very long shower now that I have her wrapped around me, now that I can taste her lips on my tongue, now that I can feel her heat against my cock.
“Did you say ‘attempting to kill’?”
I can’t help myself. I laugh at the ridiculousness of her question and at her awful timing.
Because all I want is to be buried inside of her, and she’s still thinking about the speech I made minutes ago.
“I must not be doing a very good job if you’re still thinking about that,” I tell her.
“It doesn’t answer my question,” she answers with a pointed look. She’s trying to look severe, but wrapped like this around me, there is nothing that looks severe about her. Sexy? Hot? Hauntingly beautiful? All of that, yes. But severe, no.
“Michaël is dead. I don’t know who they’re going to pick to replace him since he was the last in line. Gabrielle has been put into an artificial coma. They said that she was mortally wounded, but that she was still breathing when the guards arrived. They also said that she could be like this for weeks. Happy now?” I ask at the end with an amused tone.
I will never stop being amused at the way she keeps questioning things and how she needs to know everything.
“I should have finished the bitch,” she answers, and I want to laugh some more, but she nibbles at the side of my throat and I’m reminded of how I felt when she drank from me, and I didn’t know it was possible, but I grow even harder.
I kick the door in, walk inside and kick the door shut again.
“You should have. But it’s a problem for another day,” I tell her. “Because I have wicked things I want to do to you tonight, and there is no way I’ll have you thinking about murder while I worship your body.”
74
Cassiopé
