Bound by Night(26)

Had Riker always been cut like a superhero—or super villain—or had he been molded into one by the turning process?
Either way, she had Supervamp beneath her, his bare chest under palms . . . when only hours ago he’d wanted to kill her. And she’d nearly killed him.
With a light, faltering touch, she skimmed her hands over his rock-hard abs and up to his shoulders, telling herself this was part of a medical exam, but when she reached his left bicep and found the tattoo there, all pretense went out the window. She was flat out curious about his body. Oh, she’d studied vampires in class and lab settings, but this time, her focus was more personal. This time, she wanted to learn about the individual vampire, not the species as a whole.
Beneath her fingers, the tattoo seemed to pulse as she traced the curved lines of the sideways crescent moon circled by a serpent. The design was simple but elegant, and she wondered what the meaning behind it was.
“MoonBound,” Riker rasped. “It’s our symbol.”
Startled, she jerked as if she’d been burned and peered into his eyes. The dull, tarnished silver reminded her how close to death he’d been. “Thank God,” she breathed. “You’re okay.”
“How?”
“I neutralized the effects of the boric acid with calcium carbonate. Ash,” she explained. “Now that your body doesn’t have to fight the toxins, it can heal the other wounds.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the bag of supplies next to her and held it to his lips.
“Drink.”
He took greedy, long gulps, draining the bottle in a matter of seconds. Once finished, he closed his eyes, perhaps in relief. His hand squeezed hers . . . in gratitude? Flustered, she remained frozen, even when he moved his hand to her thigh. He seemed to have no problem breathing now, his chest rising in a steady rhythm, but she had stopped taking in air the moment he touched her leg.
She struggled to catch her breath as his hand drifted up to her hip. Then higher, easing along her waist and rib cage, and when his thumb brushed the side of her breast on its trek north, she finally sucked in a cool, desperate rush of air.
His fingers slid over her collarbone, finding her throat. The pad of one finger scraping her scars brought an involuntary flinch. Riker’s eyes popped open. No longer dull, they shone with an eerie light, all marble gravestone under the full moon.
For what seemed like hours, she stared, mes— merized. It wasn’t until she tried to swallow—and couldn’t—that she realized he’d wrapped his hand around her throat with a vise grip.
Firmly but gently, he pulled her so close that the heat of his breath fanned her cheeks. “Why,” he growled. “Why did you save me?”
She was beginning to wonder the same thing. “Because I’m not the killer you seem to think I am.” And if I have any hope of surviving the poachers, it’s with you.#p#分页标题#e#
In an instant, he flipped her and came down on top of her, his heavy body flush against hers, his hand still on her throat, his hips pressing down between her legs.
“What I think,” he said in a deep, guttural voice, “is that you’re going to regret not letting me die.”

Chapter 9
Between Nicole’s long legs was the last place
Riker thought he’d be today. Of course, he hadn’t thought he’d be poisoned, stabbed, or shot at, either.
The day was full of surprises, and it was only early evening. There was still time for a plane to crash on top of him or some shit.
Nicole lay beneath him, her throat throbbing under his palm. To her credit, she wasn’t freaking out.
If anything, she seemed annoyed.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well, what? Do I regret not letting you die? You’d love for me to say yes, wouldn’t you? All your preconceptions about me would be confi rmed.” Scowling, she flattened her palms against his chest and shoved.
Amused by her pathetic efforts to dislodge him, he grinned. “Not by a long shot. I have a lot of assump-tions about you. Few are fl attering.”
“You are such a dick.” She struggled like a rabbit caught in a snare, but he controlled her easily, sinking more of his weight onto her smaller frame.
Big mistake. He might not like her, but he hadn’t been in this position with a female in decades, and his body didn’t care what he thought about her. All it cared about was how her curves fit against his hard muscles and how her pelvis was rocking against his. It also had immense appreciation for the way her magnificent breasts rubbed against his bare chest.
He slid one hand to her butt to hold her still, but all he accomplished was putting her sex in direct contact with his. He also discovered that her ass was rock-hard and a nice handful.