Page 15 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

The door clicks shut and Charles pulls me onto his lap. His mouth captures mine, hot and demanding. A gasp escapes my lips as his tongue sweeps inside, tasting, exploring. My fingers tangle in his hair while his hands roam my back.

"You're incredible," he breathes against my lips.

I arch closer, heat blooming everywhere we touch. The limo turns a corner, making me grip his shoulders for balance. His mouth trails down my neck, leaving a path of fire in its wake.

"Charles..." My head falls back as he nips at my pulse point.

His hand slides up my thigh, the silk of the tights doing nothing to dull the scorching heat of his touch. My dress inches higher with each caress. I should stop him. I barely know him. But my body betrays me, pressing closer instead of pulling away.

"Your skin is so soft." His fingers trace patterns on my inner thigh, making me shiver.

Streetlights flash past the tinted windows, casting shadows across his perfect features. I capture his mouth again, drunk on the taste of him. His other hand tangles in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss.

The city blurs past outside while we lose ourselves in each other's touch. His hand inches higher, setting every nerve ending ablaze. I moan into his mouth as his fingers trace the edge of my tights.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers against my lips.

Instead, I kiss him harder.

My fingers trace down his chest as my mind races. His penthouse must be incredible. The thought of seeing where he lives, of not ending this night so soon...

"Charles, I was thinking-"

The streetlight flashes through the window, illuminating his face. My words die in my throat. For a split second, his perfect features dissolve into something else entirely. Red scales. Golden eyes. Ridges along his forehead.

I blink and Charles's human face is back, concern creasing his brow.

"What's wrong?"

My heart pounds. Scales. The weird texture beneath my fingers makes perfect sense now. The too-perfect face. The strange accent.

He's not human.

I should scream. Run. Demand answers. But his hands are still on my waist, warm and steady. The same hands that led me across the dance floor. The same lips that made me forget my own name.

Whatever he is, he's still the man who looked at me like I hung the moon. Who made me feel beautiful and cherished. Who set my soul on fire with just a touch.

"Nothing." I press my lips to his again, tasting the truth of him beneath the illusion.

His fingers tighten on my hips as he pulls me closer. The rough patches I feel beneath his skin don't frighten me anymore. They're just another piece of the puzzle that is Charles Varakian - or whatever his real name might be.

At least I know why his face feels different, I think as his mouth trails fire down my neck. And I find I don't mind at all.

Varak trails kisses down my neck, his lips lingering on every sensitive spot as if he's known me forever. My skin tingles with each touch, and I instincitivelyt arch into him, craving more. His hands, strong and confident, slide down to my waist, hiking up my skirt. The cool air of the limo brushes against my thighs, sending a shiver up my spine.

"I must taste you," he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. Before I can respond, he tears my panties off with a swift, decisive motion. I gasp, the suddenness of it sending a thrill through me.

He dives in, his mouth hot and eager against me. I jolt at the first touch of his tongue, a moan escaping my lips. He's not gentle, not tentative. He eats me out with a hunger that matches the intensity in his eyes. His tongue moves with skill, tracing patterns that make my hips buck and my breath hitch.

"Oh god," I whisper, my fingers gripping his hair. The sensation is overwhelming, building quickly and fiercely. His hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as he devours me. Therough texture of his disguised skin adds a layer of friction that sends me spiraling.

Every lick, every suck, every flick of his tongue drives me closer to the edge. The limo, the city outside, everything fades away. All that exists is this moment, this feeling, this man.

The orgasm hits me hard, a wave of pleasure that crashes over me, leaving me twisting and writhing in his grip. I cry out, my body convulsing as he continues to lap at me, drawing out every last shiver and moan.

I collapse back against the seat, panting, my body limp and sated. Varak looks up at me, his golden eyes dark with desire, my juices glistening on his lips. He grins, a wicked, satisfied smile that makes my heart flutter.

"You taste incredible," he says,in a hungry growl.

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