I leaned closer, heat infusing the space between our mouths. “Mm.”
“I had you drink from my neck, but then you got aroused, and…” He cut off, his lips squeezing together in a hard line. Releasing a breath, he finished. “I took advantage of you.”
I blinked. His expression held remorse to accentuate the guilt from the link.
“It wasn’t a dream,” I whispered, strangely confused. That was why I only remembered glimpses of his face; why most of the experience was sensations. Exquisite, earth moving sensations.
“I should be pissed off, and if I was still with Jared, I would be. But…I remember asking for more. Did you not hear that? Was that not out loud?”
“I did, but you were on your death bed. It was beyond stupid. And irresponsible. And…creepy.”
“I creeped you out?” I couldn’t help my rigidness.
He shook his head in frustration. “I made love to a sleeping girl with a fever without first getting her permission. No, you weren’t the creepy one.”
I smiled away my insecurity, running my fingers along his raven stubble. Maybe it was creepy, but I didn’t care. I remembered the feelings—more than just physical. I remembered the closeness that I thought could only be a dream since it felt so completely natural. I wanted that again.
His face lost expression immediately, his hands tightening on my hips, as I moved back in, my breath ruffling his hair. My lips glanced his, then more pressure. I licked his bottom lip, asking admittance. He opened to me, licking my open mouth, teasing, chasing my tongue with his.
I slid my hands up his muscular arms, feeling the strength in his biceps and the brawn of his shoulders, before letting my palm settle at the edge of his jaw.
I backed off enough to speak, “Does it feel good when someone takes your blood? I’ve often heard Charles mention it as the most intimate of things. He doesn’t do it lightly.”
“Yes,” he whispered. His hands felt around my body to cup my butt. “Would you like to take more of mine?”
“I was thinking the opposite. Maybe you should take mine this time? Even the score. I want to feel what it’s like.”
His mouth dipped to my throat, my head falling back to allow him access. My breath came in fast pants as his lips skimmed my pulse. His kiss was gentle, but he did not bite. “I can’t take yours.”
“Why? What did I do wrong? Too much garlic in my diet?”
He chuckled, his tongue flicking out and licking the base of my neck. “We’ll just say, I don’t want to mess with…anyway.”
I made an unhappy sound before claiming his lips again, frustrated with the amount of fabric between us. I sat up and unbuttoned my shirt, exposing my breasts slowly, my cleavage holding his attention. My blouse fell from my shoulders. My bra quickly followed.
His hand caressed down my chest, cupping a breast in his palm, rubbing my nipple with his coarse thumb. Pleasure erupted in my core, tied directly to my breast. When he bent down and took it into his mouth, sucking and teasing, I couldn’t believe how good it felt.
He backed off quickly, shedding his T-shirt, and sitting back, two hands now on me. I lowered my hands to his shoulders, feeling the grooves of muscle with my fingertips. I traced down his chest, running my palms over his defined pecs, down his smooth skin to his rippled abs. Surveying, I ran my hands over his strong arms, his tattoos seeming to wave under my fingers.
“Why the tattoos?” I murmured, running my hands back up slowly, letting the anticipation build.
“They’re runes. Spells. They have many uses. For one, they aid in delivering…power. Our hands and arms become weapons, like our swords. Another reason is they gather the darkness, helping us camouflage. Also, they help send magic airborne, like when I wrapped that protective spell around you. We can easily fortify an object with magic, like our swords, or like the walls, but it takes a certain amount of power for magic to travel. Runes, in a set pattern, make that easier.”
“But I can throw magic without runes. Often when trying to do something normal.”
His hands slid up my back, making me shiver pleasantly. “Mages have more versatility, they have the power and ability to allow magic a life of its own. Even they require tattoos, usually. You are rare. In so many ways.”
He leaned forward, touching his lips to the base of my neck, then kissing upward to my jaw. His hands crept toward the front of me, to my lower stomach. I felt my top button released with a tiny jerk. My eyes closed as my zipper lowered.
He stood, a mountain moving, taking me with him. Setting me down, his hulking body in front of me, his head lowered to mine, he gently pushed my pants down my thighs, my undies hitch-hiking a ride to the floor.