Her hand moved over the constriction of cloth. Her mind, so deeply merged with his, was lost in fiery need. She could see the images in his head of the two of them tangled together in ecstasy. She knew exactly what he so urgently wanted, what his body demanded. His need was hers. Her hand freed him from the confines of his tight trousers. She felt him shudder as her fingers wrapped around the thick length of him, as she stroked and caressed the hard shaft.
His teeth came together, his body arching. There was thunder in his ears and a haze of red desire before his eyes. Jackhammers were beating at his skull. His hands pushed at her sweater, rough and insistent, wild and dominant. His teeth bit down when she would have moved.
Some small sense of self-preservation surfaced, and Alexandria became aware of what she was doing. It had been like some erotic dream, but now she was conscious of the cool night, the heat of his body, the demands of his hands, her own uninhibited behavior, her mouth feeding so sensually at his chest.
“Oh, God!” She let go of him as if burned and tried to move away. His hand held her head to him, and she felt the trickle of blood making its way down in his chest
“Close the wound with your tongue. Your saliva carries a healing agent. There is no mark unless we wish it.” His voice was like a caress, soft and husky yet gravelly with need. His hand forced her compliance.
She did as she was told because she was terrified to defy him. He was in such a state of arousal, with one wrong move he would sweep her resistance aside. And he could. She knew it. He knew it. They were locked together with one mind. She held her breath as he struggled for control. His body was as hard as a rock, taut with leashed aggression, and so hot they both were burning up in the flames. A low growl rumbled in his throat. He was more beast than man, and she realized she had no concept of what kind of being she was dealing with.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She chanted it like a litany, humiliated that she could have been so bold, so wanton. “Please tell me that you hypnotized me and made me do those things. You did, didn’t you?”
She was pleading with him. It was in her voice, in her eyes, in her mind. But they were locked together, and lifemates could not have untruth between them. As much as he wanted to spare her the truth, he could not. Aidan shook his head, but the dawning comprehension was already in her mind. Alexandria moaned and covered her face with both hands. “I’m not like this. I don’t respond to men this way, I don’t drink blood, and I am not a tease. What have you done to me? It’s even worse than I thought. I’m some kind of vampire nymphomaniac.” She attempted to pull herself out of his arms, but Aidan tightened his hold on her.
“Be calm, cara. Breathe your way through this. There is a rational explanation.” Everything in him wanted to throw her to the floor of the balcony, claim what was rightfully his, and once and for all put himself out of a living hell. But he could not do that to her. Her outrageous thought, vampire nymphomaniac, nearly made him smile. It certainly turned his heart over, even while his self-control was in savage, relentless meltdown.
Alexandria was very aware of the restraint he was showing, of how hard he was fighting his natural instincts, his belief in his right to have her. She swallowed hard and stayed very still, not wanting to enflame him further. She was trembling, fighting her own needs and desires, feelings she had never experienced. Why for him? Why did it have to be for him that she burned and needed? She drank his blood willingly. She drank it and wanted more, wanted to give herself to him, wanted him to touch her, to possess her, wanted to touch him. She groaned again, humiliated. She could never face him again as long as she lived. And, for God’s sake, he had some pretty vivid and explicit pictures in his head, too. His intentions toward her were anything but avuncular. Aidan Savage wanted with her a desire, a hunger so beyond anything human, she could barely conceive of it.