but. Her arm lit on fire as every nerve sprang to life. She caught a scent of his rich cologne mixing perfectly with his own unique odor and her core clenched tightly in response. She was shocked by her body's reaction to him. The men she was normally attracted to were waif-like hipsters, not bulked out hunks amped up on testosterone. By Kate's standards, Lohr was the perfect male specimen.
"I prefer my donor to be a lover," Slade said, his voice low and thick. "Blood may be a necessity for me but I'd rather receive it from someone I'm fucking."
"How eloquently put," she replied sarcastically. Unfortunately, his crassness didn't reduce her unnatural attraction to him.
More than a little annoyed by her body's reaction, she tried to put a few feet between them, but her legs had other plans and refused to budge. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest instead.
Slade shrugged. "I'm good with a lot of things. Words aren't one. But if you're suggesting fucking is somehow less intimate than making love, you're dead wrong."
She knew she'd regret asking, but couldn't help herself. "How so?"
"Say I was going to make love to you right now." He moved to stand eye to eye with her. "I would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss." Except for the kissing, he put his words into actions. Cupping her bare shoulders with his massive hands, he eased her back. His touch was surprisingly delicate and surprisingly made her heart race erratically. "I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you." He didn't follow through with that action. Instead, he ran his fingers over her thighs with a spider light touch calling every goose-bump on her legs to attention.
When her back was against the wall, he leaned in close like he was going to kiss her and then moved abruptly to her ear. "But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."
Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore the heat building between her legs. "Your act is pretty good. I'm sure it drops a lot of panties." He yielded easily to her pathetic shove, but the motion only moved him half a step back. "Do you do puppet theater too?"
"Only on Tuesdays. Coming to my next show?"
"Only if you tell me what that thing is?" She pointed to what looked like a pair of metal icicles dangling from a hook on the wall.
"Ah, the fangs." He pulled them down. Mounted on looped leather straps were two curved, stainless steel, extremely sharp looking teeth.
"Is that what made the marks on that girl?"
"Most likely."
She unconsciously leaned closer to him to get a better look. "How do they work?"
"You put them on, like so." He slipped his first and middle fingers through leather loops, and the pads of his fingers looked they'd grown a couple of metal fangs. "They're very sharp, so with very little pressure, you can easily pierce the skin." Interlacing the fingers of his free hand into her hair, he very gently tilted her head to the side. He traced the curved line of her neck with the tips of the fangs. "Most like to be pierced on the neck right about here." He paused about two inches above her collarbone.
"Does it hurt?" Her breath caught halfway down her throat. She couldn't seem to control herself when he was so close, no matter how hard she tried.
"I don't think you'll notice or care," he murmured into her ear. "But just in case, I'll only use one fang."
"Okay." Her lungs no longer worked. Along with the rest of her body, they were clenched tight in anticipation. She could think of nothing but him: the rock
"I prefer my donor to be a lover," Slade said, his voice low and thick. "Blood may be a necessity for me but I'd rather receive it from someone I'm fucking."
"How eloquently put," she replied sarcastically. Unfortunately, his crassness didn't reduce her unnatural attraction to him.
More than a little annoyed by her body's reaction, she tried to put a few feet between them, but her legs had other plans and refused to budge. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest instead.
Slade shrugged. "I'm good with a lot of things. Words aren't one. But if you're suggesting fucking is somehow less intimate than making love, you're dead wrong."
She knew she'd regret asking, but couldn't help herself. "How so?"
"Say I was going to make love to you right now." He moved to stand eye to eye with her. "I would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss." Except for the kissing, he put his words into actions. Cupping her bare shoulders with his massive hands, he eased her back. His touch was surprisingly delicate and surprisingly made her heart race erratically. "I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you." He didn't follow through with that action. Instead, he ran his fingers over her thighs with a spider light touch calling every goose-bump on her legs to attention.
When her back was against the wall, he leaned in close like he was going to kiss her and then moved abruptly to her ear. "But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."
Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore the heat building between her legs. "Your act is pretty good. I'm sure it drops a lot of panties." He yielded easily to her pathetic shove, but the motion only moved him half a step back. "Do you do puppet theater too?"
"Only on Tuesdays. Coming to my next show?"
"Only if you tell me what that thing is?" She pointed to what looked like a pair of metal icicles dangling from a hook on the wall.
"Ah, the fangs." He pulled them down. Mounted on looped leather straps were two curved, stainless steel, extremely sharp looking teeth.
"Is that what made the marks on that girl?"
"Most likely."
She unconsciously leaned closer to him to get a better look. "How do they work?"
"You put them on, like so." He slipped his first and middle fingers through leather loops, and the pads of his fingers looked they'd grown a couple of metal fangs. "They're very sharp, so with very little pressure, you can easily pierce the skin." Interlacing the fingers of his free hand into her hair, he very gently tilted her head to the side. He traced the curved line of her neck with the tips of the fangs. "Most like to be pierced on the neck right about here." He paused about two inches above her collarbone.
"Does it hurt?" Her breath caught halfway down her throat. She couldn't seem to control herself when he was so close, no matter how hard she tried.
"I don't think you'll notice or care," he murmured into her ear. "But just in case, I'll only use one fang."
"Okay." Her lungs no longer worked. Along with the rest of her body, they were clenched tight in anticipation. She could think of nothing but him: the rock
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