Page 8 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

Did he just smell her vagina? What the fuck…

Uncertainty unraveled inside of her and she took a step back. Why had she brought him here?

“Easy, little one,” he said softly in that placating voice. “There’s no need for unease.”

And just like that, her jittery trepidation calmed and a placid peace washed over her as if someone hooked her up to an IV of heavily soothing drugs. His words should not have lulled her, yet she felt cocooned in a state of trustful bliss.

“Okay,” she said in an embarrassingly dopey voice.

“I prefer when you’re calm.”

Was he asking or pointing out the obvious? She should’ve been alarmed by the uncharacteristic sense of tranquility, but she was too damn chill at the moment to care.

Her brow pinched. “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t know you, yet I feel incredibly peaceful in your presence.”

“Perhaps your instincts recognize me as someone trustworthy.”

That didn’t sound right, but it felt right. Weird.

She studied his intent expression under the clinical lights of the studio. He had one of those faces that were hard to put an age to. He could’ve been in his late twenties just as easily as he could’ve been in his early forties. He was definitely older than her twenty-nine years.

Her gaze traveled down his front to the substantial bulge between his hips. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her mind wavering between sensuality and uncertainty.

Reaching forward, he stroked a jet-black tendril of her hair and she leaned into the caress. “I enjoy it when you look at me like that, Delilah.”

Shallow, jagged breaths filled her lungs as the energy of the room thickened and her body tightened. Instinctively, she knew he was a predator and the world was his prey. So why wasn’t she scared?

She wanted him inside of her. But she also didn’t want to get murdered and chopped up into little colorful pieces. “I have cameras outside. If you hurt me, I’ve got your face on file.”

“I could never hurt you. I desire something else entirely.”

Every muscle in her body relaxed. “Something?” Even the inflection of her voice was subdued as if the odd sense of calm affected her vocal cords as well.

“Yes. I desire you.” His hand slid from her hair to the back of her neck, tipping her head back. “I want to taste every inch of you. Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly and that was all the permission he needed.

His mouth slammed over hers, warm and demanding, and her heart rate spiked, but she still wasn’t scared. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders. This felt right. She couldn’t explain it, but her body seemed to recognize his, as if they’d done this a thousand times before.

Backing her against the wall, his arms coiled around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Wreathing his neck, her fingers slid through his hair as his mouth delivered an onslaught of passion.

The crinkle of wall art under her back reminded her where they were. She tore her mouth from his and looked out the wide storefront window. It was nighttime, but the shop was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“In the back,” she panted as he kissed his way down her shoulder.

His dominant touch ignited a fire inside of her. Every press of his hard body to hers filled her with the burning desire to get him naked.

Large, strong hands gripped her ass, as her legs wrapped around his waist. His thick erection pressed hard into her core. He carried her toward the back.

“Wait!” She reached into the big fishbowl on the counter, snatching a purple Skin Deep condom from the ones she ordered for promotional purposes.

As if he knew exactly where to go, he took her to one of the rooms with a reclining chair she used for piercings. As soon as the cool leather of the seat hit her back, his mouth was on hers again.

Her fingers nimbly sought the buttons on his shirt, but she couldn’t find them. The fabric was coarser than expected.

“Rip it,” he growled, mouth against her throat.

Not needing to be told twice, her fists yanked the fabric open. Her palms collided with hard, masculine muscle wrapped in hot, unmarked flesh. He roughly tugged at the dainty cap sleeve of her dress. She twisted her arms, withdrawing them from the fabric.

He yanked down the cups of her bra. Cool air teased her puckering flesh. Ripping his mouth from hers, he stilled, one knee wedged between her thighs. "What have you done to yourself, Delilah?”

Glancing down at her exposed breasts, the glint of the overhead lights reflected in her nipple rings. Her arm lifted to cover her breasts, but he caught her wrist, forcing her to remain in a vulnerable position as he studied her.

She couldn’t decipher his expression. “You don’t like it?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple shifting slowly under his tanned, shadowed jaw. “Does it pain you?”