Page 50 of Kentucky Nights
“We shouldn’t.” I ghost my lips across her jaw, tempting myself with her scent.
I grip her hips, fighting for my life to regain an ounce of control. She’s too tempting, too beautiful, too out-of-my-league, and yet somehow Fate thought I deserved her.
“Why not?” The question is a breathless whisper as she tilts her head back, giving me access to the silk canvas of her throat.
I love the depth of her skin and the glow it naturally has against my pale, leather-like flesh that’s ruined from the sun. Even with my healing abilities, some wrinkles and calluses will never fade.
She makes me look a whole lot prettier than I really am just by being next to me.
I’m enamored by her perfection, and my fangs ache to have a small taste. I bet her blood would be the sweetest nectar. I’m ready to be drunk on my fated mate, and what leaves me stunned is, she might be experiencing the same.
“Because there’s still so much more you don’t know.” I slip a finger under the collar of her shirt, exposing her collarbone. “You’re so soft.” It’s impossible to hide my awe, how I’m inevitably enamored by her.
While she is inevitably doomed by me.
I glide my finger across the ridge, my mouth dying for a taste of her skin, her sweat, her blood, the fatigued perfume lingering on her—I want it all.
“As much as I love to see you in my clothes, Ms. Whitley, I do believe it is time for us to get you some proper amenities,” I drawl, slipping her shirt up to expose her taut stomach.
She inhales a sharp breath, her muscles trembling under my touch. “That—that would be nice, Mr. Jones.”
My hands glide up her back, my fingertips caressing the divot of her spine. “I should take better care of you. I’ve been selfish by keeping you at arm’s length, but I promise, I was doing it for your own good.”
“Don’t then.” She lifts her arms, signaling me to take her shirt off.
I’ve never moved so fast. I tug my shirt free from her, exposing her body at last.
It’s my turn to stop breathing. It’s my turn to devour and appreciate. Every time I exhale, a growl speaks for me. I’m unable to stop. I have no control over what she creates inside me.
“Kentucky?”
There’s a tremble of uncertainty in her voice. I realize I’ve been staring for far too long, creating—what was a heated moment—into one where she second-guesses herself. She lifts her arms to cover her breasts, and I snag her wrists, pinning them to her sides.
“Darlin’, don’t you dare cover yourself. You don’t ever have to do that with me.”
“You weren’t saying anything and I?—”
“Because I’m stunned. Because I’m speechless. Because I finally see what I’ve been dreaming about since I laid eyes on you. You’re prettier than any sky, any sunset, any star, I have ever fucking seen,” I marvel, drifting my hands up her sides. “You make me want to get carried away.”
Dru leans forward, grinning from ear to ear, and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Maybe that’s exactly what we need to do, then.”
I can’t hide what she does to me. She has me losing control of how well I’m able to will myself to be good, to not give in to the violent nature. If I wanted, I could take her now, bite and claim her, seal the fated mate bond, and force her to be with me forever.
That’s what I want. More than fucking anything, that’s what I need.
But—and there always is a but—that would take away her choice. Her will. Her decision.
I couldn’t bear the regret of her hating me for that. She might not understand it now, but she will. Just a few more days of usgetting to know one another, and we can give in—if she chooses to stay.
Not wanting to overthink for another minute when I have a beautiful woman half-naked on my lap, I allow my hands to wander. The simple touch has her nervous exhales ghosting over my lips, tempting me to take a kiss.
I’ve never wanted to take my time like this before. I want to educate myself on every curve, every inch, every mark, and freckle she has on her body. I need to know which part she loves touched. The one that will force her to arch her back and moan my name.
There’s so much I need to know, and while I have plenty of time, Dru doesn’t. I don’t want us to worry about the clock ticking, her aging, or seconds being missed while I ravage her in a very vampiric, animalistic way. A side of myself I have never given in to.
I cup her breasts, the softness of them gives under my ministrations as I knead, my thumb brushing over her nipple. Her fingernails dig into my shoulder, and I cut my eyes away from her body to her face.
She’s watching my hands, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and I can smell how much she wants this.
