Dying to Date(32)

Tarian lifted her slightly, sliding one leg between hers so she balanced on his thigh. Desire pulsed through her as she fought the urge to rock against him.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips as he demanded entry, and her resolve weakened.

Push him away, her mind commanded. Stand strong.

She knew caution was the better part of valor. Right up to the moment she parted her lips.

Tarian took full advantage of her moment of weakness. He invaded her, consumed her, dominated her. There were a million reasons to push him away, but all her body craved was more.

His hands slid along her thighs, and she felt the heat of his touch even through the cheap denim. Need pulsed within her, just as it had the first time they’d touched.

Her fangs ached in her gums. The desire to bite, to taste Tarian, nearly overwhelmed her. Hunger mixed with lust in a powerful, intoxicating combination. She needed him. Needed him in a way she hadn’t needed anyone before.

The tips of her fangs pushed free, and she couldn’t stop herself from scraping them oh so lightly against his tongue.

Tarian jerked under her hands as a tiny bead of blood welled into her mouth. There was no biting back the delicious moan that broke free from her throat. It was just the smallest taste, a minute burst of flavor, but the experience nearly brought her to her knees. Never in all her years had she tasted anything as addicting as him. Something was different about his blood. Something that called to her on the most basic of levels. The predator in her roared for more. She’d never get enough of him.

His hand slid down her spine to the curve of her waist, and she nearly purred at the caress. She craved more, wanted to feel his fingers trailing over her naked skin as she arched beneath him.

It was getting harder to think. There was a reason she shouldn’t be doing this. Surely there was. But right now the only question on her mind was whether or not the shadows were dark enough to hide their activities if she were to shred their clothes and take him right there.

Bad idea, her inner voice whispered.

She didn’t want to listen to logic or remember all the reasons why she shouldn’t trust him. All she wanted was to prolong this perfect, maddening feeling.

With a groan, she pushed him back.

Tarian stared at her, lust clear in his gaze, with his hands still clenched around her waist.

“That was your grand idea to diffuse the tension?” she demanded.

His grin was almost boyish. “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

A smile tugged at her lips though she fought it back.

“At least now you’ll believe me when I tell you I’ve never touched you with any aim other than getting you into bed.”

Her smile slipped from her lips as she looked up at him.

He arched a brow at her silence and caught her wrist. She didn’t protest when he pressed her hand firmly against his hard erection.

“Think I’m faking that?” he demanded.

Unlikely. Her fingers curled around him instinctively, causing Tarian to hiss in pleasure.

“You could be a fantastic actor,” she offered.

He arched a brow, silently questioning the ridiculousness of her statement.

Did she think he was acting? He might be. After all, there had to be more to the story than a necromancer desiring a vampire and deciding to date her. But if he hadn’t helped his grandfather kidnap her, then what reason would he have for pretending to want her?

In a relationship wrought with lies, perhaps that one detail was true. Maybe he did want her just as much as she did him. A wave of relief surged through her, so strong it nearly sent her to her knees. She hadn’t admitted, even to herself, how much she wanted this one thing to be true. Knowing she hadn’t been the only one caught in the whirlwind of desire that claimed her every time they touched gave her strength. In this, at least, they were on even footing.

“Melissa,” he said, giving her a little shake.

“All right,” she yielded. “You want me.”

Some of the tension eased from his body. “That’s something at least.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” she forced herself to say. He didn’t need to know how much she’d wanted to hear their time together had mattered, even if only in a physical way.

“Nothing important,” he agreed. His fingers found her chin and tipped her face up toward his. “But at least you know you’ve got the power to bring a necromancer to his knees.”

“That silver tongue of yours will get you in trouble.”

“Maybe you’ll believe me one day.” He pulled her close, his mouth a tantalizing breath away from hers.

“Sure, when the sun rises in the West. But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

“Maddening woman.”