Page 42 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

But his question brought up a whole new wave of emotions. She remembered all too well what had drawn her out of the club and led her to that alley. She had been so desperate to get away from Everett and the intimate look on his face. She had been so confused by why her mind kept drifting back to Beckham instead of the cute boy in front of her that she had just run.

“Little One?” he prodded.

She looked at him tentatively. “I was thinking of you.”

Beckham stiffened under her gaze. She wasn’t hiding her emotions. Her heart was fluttering in her chest and against her throat. In that moment, her eyes were a window to her soul, and he could translate what she was thinking.

“How?” he finally asked.

Reyna’s blush deepened.

He reached forward and touched her dark hair, which had fallen out of its updo. His fingers threaded through the strands, careful not to touch the knot on the back of her head. Beckham was normally rough and demanding, but here he was so gentle. His thumb ran along the inside of her neck.

“That blush is dangerous,” he growled, clearly trying to restrain himself.

Reyna held his gaze, her breathing making her chest rise and fall heavily.

“Touching me like this is dangerous.”

He tilted his head to consider her. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips to her neck and then back up. “Because I could break you.”

She paused at his words. He meant physically, but her heart was speaking volumes to the truth of that statement emotionally. There was a reason that she kept being drawn back to him. It was all laid out before her. It had all started with that first touch of his lips. Oh, yes, he could break her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Beckham leaned forward, and everything narrowed down to this one moment. His eyes bored into hers. Not asking for permission. Not asking for anything. Just looking into her soul and letting her know that he was taking her.

And she let him.

God, did she let him.

His mouth landed on hers, and it was like every kiss before this vanished into thin air. This was her first kiss. Because nothing else could hold a candle to the way his lips felt against hers. If she smelled like ambrosia, then Beckham truly tasted like it.

Sweet. Tempting. Addicting.

He was the real deal. The perfect package.

His lips as soft as feathers molded to hers with a tenderness she would never have expected from Beckham, let alone a vampire. Her hands moved up to grab his suit and pull him in closer. She needed more. She needed this taste, this sweetness on her tongue, touching her, holding her.

Reyna opened her mouth and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He groaned into her mouth, and all of his tentative movements evaporated. His tongue darted out and caressed her. They volleyed as if there were a winner to their match.

Their kisses turned heated and desperate. Reyna hadn’t actually thought he would ever want this from her. Did Beckham feel the same way she did when he kissed her? Or was this another part of ownership?

Something in the way he held her and the intensity of his kisses told her that he valued more than just her blood…or her body. He was not paying anything for this. He was kissing her like a man kissed his woman. And she wanted this.

His hands moved from her hair down over her shoulders to trace the curves of her waist and her hips. She moaned at the feel of his hands on her. She wouldn’t stop him if he went further. She should. This wasn’t appropriate for a professional relationship, and if she went further, there was no going back. But his hands on her body and his lips on her mouth were telling her to ignore all logic. There was here and now. There was only Beckham.

He dropped soft kisses on her cheek, to her ear, and then down her neck. She braced herself, anticipating what was to come. Her heart fluttered. This would finally be it. She wasn’t anxious now that she was in his arms. She was excited. Ready.

Was what Mara had said before true? Would she get an endorphin rush from the bite? Was it anything like sex?

Her body was jittery as the kisses moved to her collarbone and then back to her neck. He hovered over her furiously beating pulse. His fangs trailed against the skin. She shivered all over, her body reacting to the erotic intimacy. She could feel her core heating, aching for him.

“Bite me,” she pleaded.

He kissed the spot one more time and then leaned his forehead against her neck. His own breathing matched hers. He seemed desperate to do it, and yet he held back.

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