bedroom, both of them dripping wet. She started to squirm and pound her fists against his chest while sputtering.
“No! What’s wrong with you? P-put me down.”
Mr. Sex-on-Legs carried her, his eyes full of amusement. He looked like he was enjoying every minute of this.
“You’re a fucking barbarian!”
Suddenly, she was down on the bed. She dashed away from him and gave him the slip. She ran, sopping wet toward the door. She heard the lock thunk, as if it’d been locked from the outside.
She yanked on the doorknob and let out an audible sound of exasperation.
“Who’s out there?” she yelled, “Help!”
Somehow he was already soundlessly right behind her, “No one is out there,” he whispered this into her ear.
“Get away from me you barbarian!”
He caged her in with his arms and pinned her against the door with his hips and she could feel his hard cock against her lower back, “No escape,” he said in a low and menacing voice and then let out a little chuckle.
She tried to duck under his arms and get away from him but he picked her up, as if she were his bride being carried over the threshold, and headed back toward the bed.
She slapped his face. He didn’t even flinch. He almost seemed like he liked it.
“Put me down, Tristan!”
Down on the bed she went and he was instantly on top of her, guiding her back against the cushions, caging her in with his arms once again. They were both slippery, she still had bubbles on her body, and she felt panic spike at the intensity on his face,
“Not a barbarian; just a bloodthirsty and very horny vampire. Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say my name, when I see life and fire in those emerald green eyes? That slap? That just made me hotter for you because you’re making me feel alive; alive, Kyla, for the first time in a long time.”
She winced, “Get off me.” First she was furious, then she whimpered, trying to shrink into the pillows away from him. There was nowhere to go. The worst part was that it felt like her body was getting geared up for betrayal again. She was naked, he was naked, he was on top of her and he was a heck of a lot stronger than she was. And she could feel that he was hard. She could feel moisture building between her legs, a tightening in her nipples. He was poised at her entrance; it would take just a tiny jerk of his hips for him to be inside of her again. Kyla’s brain told her to get away, her girlie parts, though --- they had other ideas.
He whispered, nuzzling her earlobe, “Keep saying no . It makes me soooo hard. And when I make you come, call out my name again.” He looked at her with eyes that were so blue, like turquoise stones beneath thick dark lashes. “Please.”
His plea touched something in her core that she couldn’t name. It was so erotic. She felt her legs being separated wide and she swallowed hard and just waited, waited to give him whatever he wanted to take. What on earth was happening here? Why am I not fighting? Am I under his spell?
“Don’t. I’m not going to… to come,” she said, getting hold of her wits, sort of. The words came out but she didn’t move.
He trailed kisses down her throat and down her breasts, making goose bumps rise on her flesh. When he got to her stomach he looked up at her, hungrily, and then erotically stuck his tongue into her belly button and wiggled it, then winked at her.
“We’ll see about that,” Tristan said.
She squirmed, “Not happening.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He was enjoying every minute of this. But despite his cocky attitude, despite what she knew she should want, what she actually wanted was for him to touch her just where he’d touched her last night, the exact same way. Shame washed over her. Suddenly, his tongue was almost there --- where it had been last night.
Yes! No! Wait, what? What do I want here?
He flicked his tongue across the small wound inside her leg, the wound he’d made with
“No! What’s wrong with you? P-put me down.”
Mr. Sex-on-Legs carried her, his eyes full of amusement. He looked like he was enjoying every minute of this.
“You’re a fucking barbarian!”
Suddenly, she was down on the bed. She dashed away from him and gave him the slip. She ran, sopping wet toward the door. She heard the lock thunk, as if it’d been locked from the outside.
She yanked on the doorknob and let out an audible sound of exasperation.
“Who’s out there?” she yelled, “Help!”
Somehow he was already soundlessly right behind her, “No one is out there,” he whispered this into her ear.
“Get away from me you barbarian!”
He caged her in with his arms and pinned her against the door with his hips and she could feel his hard cock against her lower back, “No escape,” he said in a low and menacing voice and then let out a little chuckle.
She tried to duck under his arms and get away from him but he picked her up, as if she were his bride being carried over the threshold, and headed back toward the bed.
She slapped his face. He didn’t even flinch. He almost seemed like he liked it.
“Put me down, Tristan!”
Down on the bed she went and he was instantly on top of her, guiding her back against the cushions, caging her in with his arms once again. They were both slippery, she still had bubbles on her body, and she felt panic spike at the intensity on his face,
“Not a barbarian; just a bloodthirsty and very horny vampire. Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say my name, when I see life and fire in those emerald green eyes? That slap? That just made me hotter for you because you’re making me feel alive; alive, Kyla, for the first time in a long time.”
She winced, “Get off me.” First she was furious, then she whimpered, trying to shrink into the pillows away from him. There was nowhere to go. The worst part was that it felt like her body was getting geared up for betrayal again. She was naked, he was naked, he was on top of her and he was a heck of a lot stronger than she was. And she could feel that he was hard. She could feel moisture building between her legs, a tightening in her nipples. He was poised at her entrance; it would take just a tiny jerk of his hips for him to be inside of her again. Kyla’s brain told her to get away, her girlie parts, though --- they had other ideas.
He whispered, nuzzling her earlobe, “Keep saying no . It makes me soooo hard. And when I make you come, call out my name again.” He looked at her with eyes that were so blue, like turquoise stones beneath thick dark lashes. “Please.”
His plea touched something in her core that she couldn’t name. It was so erotic. She felt her legs being separated wide and she swallowed hard and just waited, waited to give him whatever he wanted to take. What on earth was happening here? Why am I not fighting? Am I under his spell?
“Don’t. I’m not going to… to come,” she said, getting hold of her wits, sort of. The words came out but she didn’t move.
He trailed kisses down her throat and down her breasts, making goose bumps rise on her flesh. When he got to her stomach he looked up at her, hungrily, and then erotically stuck his tongue into her belly button and wiggled it, then winked at her.
“We’ll see about that,” Tristan said.
She squirmed, “Not happening.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He was enjoying every minute of this. But despite his cocky attitude, despite what she knew she should want, what she actually wanted was for him to touch her just where he’d touched her last night, the exact same way. Shame washed over her. Suddenly, his tongue was almost there --- where it had been last night.
Yes! No! Wait, what? What do I want here?
He flicked his tongue across the small wound inside her leg, the wound he’d made with
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