“Wait...let me.”

His eyebrow cocked in surprise but he moved his hands away. Christine walked over to him, putting a little extra sway in her hips that drew his attention. She stopped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing kisses across his chest. His chest expanded against her lips with each breath he took; so full of life, so virile.

Slowly, she kissed her way down the middle of his stomach, in the indentation between the sets of muscles he packed there. The muscles bunched and flexed under her touch, sending her own breathing shaky.

“Millaya moya, what are you doing?”

The sweet endearment in that thick accent made her feel even sexier. She felt drugged, needy, and eager for his touch—to touch him. She pulled down his zipper with a gentle tug and swept his pants around his ankles. The black silk boxers he wore contrasted dramatically against his pale skin.

His cock, erect and hard thrust against the flimsy barrier, begging her to touch it. And so she did.

With one last longing look up at him, she took in everything. The heated, possessive look in his eyes, the slackened look of pleasure across his face, and then she covered his silken cock with her mouth.

The black silk grew wet under her mouth, clung to his rigid staff like a second skin.

Dmetri tensed, hands clenching before slowly releasing. He kept his hands stiffly at his sides as if he struggled with the need to touch her, or at least that’s what she hoped.

She trailed her mouth over him twice before she’d had enough. She wanted to feel the heat of him on her tongue, wanted to taste him and not the cloth. With a vicious tug, she yanked his boxers down, then lovingly grabbed his thick shaft.

His thighs bunched hard, breathing grew labored, and it was like music to her ears.

Between her legs she grew wet and hot. She wanted him to touch her, but first she wanted to torture them, and prolong the pleasure for as long as she could. Because she knew, that if he touched her right now, she’d fly apart and be done for.

So she sucked him deep, learning the taste, texture, and feel of him against her tongue.

He was warm, so much warmer than he usually was. Hard but soft as the silk of his boxers, he filled her deep and wide, spreading her lips open until her jaw nearly protested. She curled her fist around him at the base, squeezing and tugging gently as she sucked him in repeatedly. His breathing came out in pants, and she loved the sound.

“Christine.” He said her name as if he were choking.

She only smiled as she rubbed her tongue along his shaft up to the round head; she followed the path with her fist. The wetness from her mouth made the pass an easy glide as she pumped him up and down.

“I do not want to come in your mouth,” he warned.

She moaned around him and dove down until he neared the back of her throat. Slowly, she sucked on him as she retreated up to the tip of his cock. Her mouth made a wet popping sound like she was pulling out a sucker as she released him.

“Oh, really? Well this tells a different story,” she said, pumping him in a steady rhythm.

“Perhaps, but you will listen to me,” he said between clenched teeth.

It took Christine all of a second to think about it, and then she closed her mouth around him again bobbed over him, filling her mouth, licking him, sucking. Her hand pumped him at the base, and his cock actually flexed in her palm, growing hotter under her ministrations.

“Christine,” he warned.

Her sex pooled with hot cream, nipples pulled tight into hard points. She couldn’t resist trailing her own hand across her breasts, scraping the hard nipples across her palm before squeezing a plump breast. She needed this, and so did he.

His breathing grew heavy and labored; hips rocked thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. Christine moaned at the heady, masculine taste of him coating her tongue. She wanted his release to fill her, spill down her throat. She didn’t have to wait long.

He choked out her name in a garbled growl, and then his cock pulsed hard in her hand.

She jerked her hand faster and felt the pent-up pressure grow inside him. With a harsh cry, his hands finally tangled in her hair to hold her. He pushed deep and then hot, silken streams shot into her mouth. She heard moans, her and his, as she drank all of him, swallowing his hot creamy essence.

The hands in her hair vibrated, and she realized he was shaking. Christine pulled back to take in his pleasure-drenched features. His eyes could barely stay open; his lips were wet and parted, thighs trembling with the effort to hold himself up. He looked gorgeous and satisfied, and she’d done that.

Her heart swelled in her chest until it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him. But she couldn’t.

Dmetri finally opened his eyes. The look in his eyes was so dark and possessive that it reminded her of the way Vane looked at Sarina. It was a look she’d always craved, but had never gotten. Though her eyes may be playing tricks on her, or her heart was anyways. This might be wishful seeing.

“Come here,” he said and pulled her up against him. His arms came around her, pulling her close.

She rested her cheek against his heart, listening to the pounding beat. Her eyes closed and she sighed against him, loving the feel of his hands caressing her back up and down. His touch mesmerized her, made her feel like she was floating somewhere way up high in the sky.

The beating of his heart suddenly pounded hard and fast. Christine yanked herself away and saw Dmetri glaring towards the front of the house. The sound came again, and this time registered in her muddled mind as knocking.

“Stay here,” he said and quickly pulled on his pants.

Christine debated on dressing with him, but decided to huddle against the bedroom door and listen instead. What she heard made her pale. Her mother was here.

Dmetri flung open the door, ready to fight whoever dared to interrupt his time with Christine. It seemed like he was finally making some leeway with her. Soon, he’d capture Master Claude and have her luscious body sleeping next to him every night. Who he saw on the other side of the door had his erection deflating so fast he felt the blood from his cock rushing back through his body on a surge.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Christine’s mother flattened her lips. “I want you to get my daughter right now. I’m taking her home. She doesn’t belong with you, vampire.” Dmetri almost laughed. “Actually, she does belong to me.” Her eyes bulged like they were trying to escape her skull. “You mated with her? You turned her into a sick, bloodsucking vampire?”

Dmetri barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mate with her, and I have no intention of doing that. You know if you lightened up a bit you might just realize that I’m a helluva catch.”

“A good catch? Please, don’t make me laugh. She deserves better than you, and I’ll see to it that she gets it.”

Dmetri’s temper steadily grew inside him. “And have you ever asked her what she wants?”

She jerked at the response. “What are you talking about?” Dmetri’s hand curled hard around the doorframe. “I said have you ever asked her what she wants, or who she wants to be with?”

Her piercing eyes narrowed on him. “I wish to speak with my daughter, now! Christine, I know you’re in there. Come out here now!” she called into the house.

Dmetri moved his body to block the door. No way was he letting Christine leave with her. “You’re a selfish old hag, you know that?”

He smiled and realized he was starting to have a good time talking to this witch. It created a stir of strange feelings inside of him, one of them he recognized, possessiveness.