Page 20 of Seduction in Blood
The way he said my name never failed to heat my blood, full of desire and hunger with that touch of impatience. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, feeling his muscles bunch as he lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his waist with my dressing gown hiked to my hips.
His body molded to mine, wrapping me in his spicy scent and making my skin glow with equal need. I ran a hand over his hair, grasping a handful to pull his head back so I could see the need in his gaze as I kissed him. His lips were molten hot, and he found no impediment as his tongue pushed through to meet mine, branding me.
I pulled him closer, wishing we were skin on skin and wondering why not. I tugged at his shirt as his lips moved to my neck. The scrape of his fangs re-energized the goosebumps, and I shivered.
He pulled back, and his eyes bored into mine, hot and greedy. "Are you sure, Cressa?"
My eyes popped open, and I jumped out of bed, tripping over the sheets and falling to the floor.
What the hell just happened?
Was that a dream? I sat on my ass and recalled the entire scene. It was so real. I touched my lips. They were damp, and I still smelled the roses and his spicy scent.
I dragged myself up and stumbled to a chair, not ready to return to bed. The whole dream, and yes, it had to have been a dream, was the most realistic and erotic I'd ever experienced. And with a vampire? Where had that come from? I remembered his glowing eyes, and I sighed in relief.
Devon's glowing eyes at the training session. My fear had combined with some weird attraction to him. I half shrugged. It wasn't my fault he was knock-out gorgeous. My subconscious had played tricks on me. I snorted. I'd even called him Devon and was now thinking of him that way. I ignored how nice it sounded when he called me by my given name, not the code name of Pandora that had started as nothing more than a taunt.
Thankful I'd determined what had happened, I crawled into bed, but the pressure of my hands on the mattress made my finger twinge. I felt the spot. It was tender, and I reflexively stuck it in my mouth. I tasted the coppery scent. Something had pricked me. Then I remembered the vine.
* * *
Devon turned,gaining his bearings. He knew this place. But the scent of honeysuckle and roses made this the wrong time of year. And then he felt the pull, and he turned to follow the path. He wanted to run, but he forced a steady pace, knowing where he was going.
Would she be there?
He wasn't sure who she was. Or did he know? And the thought made his blood flow stronger, hotter. He batted away the leaves that blocked his path and increased his pace. But when the vegetation receded and he found himself facing the alcove, he froze.
She's so beautiful.
His heart pounded painfully in his ears. This was their place. Her eyes were closed, and she held a crimson rose to her nose, breathing in its strong scent. He took a step, and then another. He had to control himself, and he tried to pull in his fangs, tried to roll back his lust. It was so difficult.
Her eyes opened, and she saw him. And smiled.
He'd known she'd be here, waiting for him, and he'd counted the hours, the minutes before this moment.
God's blood he wanted to sweep her off that bench and lay her in the cool grass. He felt his hands close into fists as he held himself in check. He moved toward her—slow and steady. His little thief waited for him. That was all right. There was no place for her to go. She desired him as much as he craved her.
When he reached the bench and looked down on her, he caught the scent of blood. He brought her hand up and kissed it, immediately finding the finger that had recently been pierced.
"It was just a thorn." Her hurried whisper made him shiver with anticipation.
The roses. They grew wild in the garden and always reminded him of her heady scent, prickly nature, and untamed passion.
He pulled her up. The need to hold her in his arms chased all other thoughts away. Then she was holding on, and her lips tasted of raspberries on a warm, sunny day. Her legs squeezed his waist, her hands in his hair, her tongue eager for his. He was ensnared by her very essence.
He tore his mouth away from hers to run his lips down her neck. Her tangy scent, combined with her squirming body, crazed him. His fangs released, and he ran them over her heated flesh, quickly finding the strong pulse under her delicate skin. He licked the length of the vein, heard her moan.
"Cressa."
He wanted all of her, not just her sweet kisses that consumed him like no other. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he wanted to suckle them, to become lost in her. Her fingers plucked at the buttons of his shirt while he pulled her nightgown down, just a quick nibble along her breast.
"Are you sure, Cressa?"
And when he could wait no longer—he stumbled.
Cressa had vanished.
Devon's eyes snapped open. He didn't move. He couldn't have even if the house were on fire. His body ached with need, his arms so empty.
