“You talk too much,” he said, his lips moving against my skin. “You ever have sex with a vamp?” he said, his eyes half closed, watching me.

I exhaled as he turned his attention to my neck again. His fingers traced the path his lips were going to take, and waves of ecstasy rolled through me when they did. “No,” I panted as I yanked his jeans down. I’d never get them off over his boots. “Anything I should be aware of?”

He ran his hands under my breast, again tracing the path his lips soon followed. Back arched, I tried not to moan with need as I reached down, trying to find all of him. “We bite,” he said, and I cried out when he did just that, gently pinching me between his teeth.

“Get my pants off before I kill you,” I panted, almost insane with desire.

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled, and his stubble scraped me as he pulled away.

I took a much needed deep breath, following him up to push him back down and straddle him. His hands worked my zipper as I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. A sigh escaped me when I got the last one undone and sent my hands over him, my fingers tracing up and across the definition of his abs and chest. I leaned over him, my hair hiding what I was doing as my lips hop-skipped from his middle to the hollow at his neck. I lingered there, hesitantly, daring to run my teeth against his skin, pulling against it with a slight pressure. Under me, he shivered, and his hands, working my jeans down my hips, shook.

Eyes wide, I pulled away, thinking I had gone too far.

“No,” he whispered, putting his hands on my waist to keep me there. His face was strained with emotion. “Don’t stop. It’s … I won’t break your skin.” His eyes flashed open. “Oh God, Rachel. I promise I won’t break your skin.”

The passion in his voice struck me. Abandoning myself, I pinned him to the couch, knees to either side. Lips searching, I found his neck, turning my kisses into something more substantial. His heavy breaths and light hands drove my desire into pulsing demands, pounding through me in time with my heartbeat. Teeth replaced my lips, and his breath grew ragged.

His hands grasped my waist, and I was lifted up enough that I could push my jeans off. They caught on my socks, and with a cry of impatience, I pulled my lips from him long enough to kick them off. Then I was back, my skin warm where it touched him under me. I leaned over him, holding his neck unmoving as I used my teeth against his skin instead of my lips.

Kisten’s breath came in a shuddering sound. “Rachel,” he breathed, his hands firm against my middle as he sent his hand downward, searching.

A low sound, barely audible, came from me as his fingers brushed me. In his touch, I felt his need flash into demand. My eyes closed and I sent one hand downward, finding him.