Page 75 of Auctioned for Her Blood
I can hardly believe how wet I am. I recognizethatfeeling at least, and my inner muscles pulse, calling out for his cock. I hope it can hear.
What is wrong with me?
Is this wrong? Maybe I deserve, maybe Ineeda little comfort, a distraction from the danger. And this doesn’t have to have anything to do with my feelings for Ryker. We didn’t make any promises, even if promises were implied—at least in my mind.
Zuben’s tongue lightly licks my palm, and I sigh in pleasure, squirming with need on the sofa.
“I am sorry,” he says, “about your body’s unexpected reaction.” In a flash, he takes both of my wrists and holds them firmly down by my sides, and the bold gesture amplifies my lust.
The heat and wetness between my legs builds. Whatever he wants from me, I’m up for it. Up for anything. I’ve had fantasies of being dominated by a man, but until last night I never thought that I’d want any of my sexual fantasies to merge into real life.
But it tracks that Zuben would like taking full control during sex. Does he plan to tie me up? It would suit his rigid personality, and I hope other parts of him are equally rigid.
Dropping my wrists, he leaps back from me, landing on the other side of the room.
I start to rise, but he holds up his hands, palms toward me. “I cannot allow anything sexual to happen between us.”
He clasps his hands behind his back, and the action parts his jacket, revealing more of his torso and elegant slacks. And it draws my eyes down to his obvious erection, tenting against the wool fabric, foreshadowing its shape—long and stiff like the rest of him.
My hand snakes down the neckline of my dress, lightly caressing my skin and lingering at the edge of my breast. The involuntary movement feels lurid, like something Gracen would do, not me, but I’m unable to stop myself.
Standing, I walk slowly toward him, circling the edge of the massive mattress that fills the room’s center, and my hips’ exaggerated movements make me even more aware of the dampness between my legs—not to mention the deep, hot ache of need centered there.
Now that I’ve discovered sex will I want itall the time? Want it in an all-consuming way that supersedes other needs, pushes aside common sense and discretion? I know I don’t wanteverymale.
I certainly had zero desire when surrounded in the hall by those vampires, or those fake police last night. But Zuben is a whole different ball game. A game I very much want to play.
Nearing him, I reach forward to touch what I most want, but he captures both wrists before I get the chance. My legs squeeze together, my hips making tiny circles I can’t even try to make subtle, as my body fights for some kind of relief.
“Don’t you want to have sex?” My tongue flicks out to wet my upper lip, and my wanton action shocks me. It’s like I’ve been possessed by a different person, or an entirely different version of myself. “I can tell you’re turned on.” My eyes flick down to his erection again.
“Sex between us is not possible.” Zuben looks over my head, now unwilling to meet my gaze, even though his cheeks have darkened and his breaths have quickened. He’s fighting his desire as much as I am.
“Why?” I shift toward him, but his grip on my wrists tightens and he moves my arms between us, preventing my pelvis from reaching its desired destination.
“It is…against my moral code.”
“Oh!” I blink in shock. “If you’re worried about bro code, Ryker and I aren’t exclusive.”
He winces. “The pirate is most certainly not my brother. Please be assured that my reluctance has nothing to do with him.” He looks into my eyes. “I do not wish to take advantage of you.”
Relief floods through me, and anticipation heightens my desire. “But you wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. Not at all. I consent.” I smile. “I want this. I wantyou.” I arch toward him, but his hands, holding my wrists, keep my belly from pressing into his hardness.
His gaze snaps down to meet mine, and I suck in a breath, seeing his obviously heated expression. He wants me as badly as I want him, even if he refuses to admit it.
Desire radiates, and my hips circle, driven by the pulsing need at my core, as if there’s some kind of perpetual motion machine inside me I can’t begin to slow down.
My cheeks heat, along with the rest of me, and I force down the last remaining thoughts at the back of my mind, urging caution and restraint. I will kill any thoughts that offer any reasons to stop this. My body doesn’t care about reason, or propriety, or caution. It just wants satisfaction for my overwhelming need.
“Your sexual feelings,” Zuben says firmly. “They are not real.”
“Oh, they areveryreal.” I step toward him, but he steps back, shaking his head.
“Who are you to tell me whether or not my feelings are real?” I don’t want to get angry or offended, but he’s not making it easy. His arrogance, his belief that he knows what’s best for me is a turn off, but not nearly enough to turn off my physical desire.
“There are things you do not understand,” he says.
“I’m not a virgin,” I blurt, then bite my lip, wishing I could take back my outburst.
