Page 140 of Even Vampires Bleed
Léandre doesn’t even try to get to the bed. Instead, as soon as we pass the door, he pins me against it and ravages my mouth.
Did he want me to forget?
He’s doing a damn good job of making me.
His hips keep undulating between mine, and it’s like he knows exactly how to move so that his hard on hits my clit every single time.
His lips are also trailing kisses to the side of my neck, and I wonder if he’s going to tear my shirt off with the urgency with which I feel his hungry kisses.
Except it’s not what he does.
Instead, he keeps kissing me through my shirt until he reaches my nipple. Then, his tongue comes and plays with it, soaking through the shirt and making a mess of me.
Maybe not as much as my sleeping shorts, though.
I can feel that they’re drenched, and I’m pretty sure that Léandre can feel it, too, even through his pants.
His other hand burrows under my shirt and plays with my other nipple as he keeps flicking his tongue around the little bud.
This is torture.
This is the sweetest torture, and I never want it to stop.
Except I also want more.
I grab him by the hair and I bring his mouth back to my lips and kiss him passionately.
“You have no idea how many times I dreamed about that,” he tells me with a raw voice when my lips leave his to glide along the column of his throat.
I feel my fangs elongate, and softly, I graze his skin.
He shudders under me and I immediately move away my fangs from his throat.
“Sorry, I can control myself better,” I tell him with a weird mix of shame and arousal at the same time.
“Don’t,” he tells me. “Don’t hide what you want and what you need. I said I love you—all of you. And you have no idea how much it arouses me that you want to bite me. It was torture when you got hurt, because each time you pulled on my blood, it felt as if you were sending everything to my cock. I’m not proud of it, but I almost came without even touching myself when you drank from me. I have never felt anything like it.”
He seems to ponder what he just said and then adds.
“Did you ever bite me… before?”
I shake my head and bite my own lips with my fangs.
“Taking blood is taboo. We never even talked about it,” I answer, and once again, the shame is back.
“Stop. Stop doing that,” he tells me as he holds the side of my head with one hand and removes his other from my breast.
I see him shift his hand into small claws.
Why on Earth is it this easy for birds? Or more accurately, why are bats doomed to need to shift their legs if they want to use their claws? I guess I’ll never know.
I don’t think I care, though. Because I believe Léandre is about to do what I thought he would before he soaked my shirt through.
But I’m wrong.
He doesn’t rip my shirt apart.
Instead, he meticulously cuts with one claw exactly where my fangs grazed his skin less than a minute ago.
