She’s fed up with being fed on.
All Miranda Thibodeaux really wants to do is survive corporate hell and be left alone. But as the daughter of the Incubi king, being left along isn’t on her schedule. And as an avatar to a goddess with multiple personality issues, taking things in stride isn’t either.
Daniel looks like an ordinary surfer boy–T. T. B.–Tall, Tanned, and Blonde. Hot he may be, but ordinary he’s not. Beneath the pretty packaging lies a ruthless warrior, a servant to the Vampire Council. His mission is to find Miranda and present her to the council, then get the hell out of Dodge before he loses his focus. The last thing he needs is the distraction of the testy female.
When circumstances force Miranda to turn to T.T.B. for help, they both end up with more than they bargained for. And that normal human life she wanted? Not really doable when everyone wants a piece of her…
I tilted my head back in the general direction of the bedroom. He covered the space in a few long-legged strides and set me down on the triple dresser. His magic stroked everywhere, up my calves, inner thighs, abdomen, waist, nipples, even my forearms, as he sucked on my tongue and crushed my torso to his. His tongue slid from my ear, along the curve of my neck to my jaw, and down the middle of my chest to the top of my camisole in a hot, wet line. I arched my back, chasing his mouth, and tried to pull him down, but he resisted me and growled until I let go.
His eyes sparkled like the reflection of summer sun on the waves. I released his hair and dropped my gaze, afraid to contest his dominance. What had I done? His ability would drown me with nothing but a moment of lost control.
He curled my fingers around the edge of the dresser and pressed once on them, firmly. “Put your hands here.”
I looked up, and his blue eyes met mine in silent challenge until I slid my gaze to the side in submission and ducked my head. The growl came again, but this time capped by a purr of reassurance, the sound brushing across my skin. The soft silk of warm water stroked my breasts and inner thighs and reassured me until I relaxed against him.
Our lips connected once more, and he kissed me with so much skill I forgot to breathe until he broke away. I gasped and clenched his shirtfront, resting my forehead on his collarbone. He reclaimed my mouth after I calmed and returned my hands to the dresser’s edge. The warmth of his tongue met mine, parting the seam of my lips, and retreating slowly in pantomime of a good, deep fuck. My fingers curled hard enough into the wood to score it. Before I realized what had happened, my jacket was unbuttoned and sliding off my shoulders. A blaze of heat shot from my stomach to my breasts, his palms cradling their heavy weight. He pulled my camisole over my head, undid the clasp of my bra, and ground against my groin with his aroused cock still sheathed behind his jeans.
I reached for his zipper, ready to take him inside and ride him until he couldn’t come any more.
“No.” One hand encased my two smaller ones, and he frowned at me. A rumbling growl rode his voice. “I said hands here.” He pressed both back to the edge of the dresser and lowered into a crouch, taking one stiff peak then the other into his mouth. Sensation flew from my nipples to my thighs, and the moist heat caged between them. I shifted restlessly
and whimpered, trying to ease the wet, aching tissue he continued to tease. T.T.B. refused to be distracted from my breasts, no matter how I thrashed against his erection.
Lips, tongue, sharp teeth, and massive hands continued to tease me with bites, licks, and nimble fingers that alternately pinched and caressed my nipples. He shimmied my skirt down my hips an inch at a time, following the path his hands made with his mouth. Deliberate scrapes of fangs heated my skin and made me even wetter. The dresser acted as my life preserver, and the wood creaked in protest under my grasping fingers.
When I was bare to his gaze in only my thigh highs, thong, and heels, he settled back and stared at my body. The intensity of his perusal brought the prickling blaze of an embarrassed flush to my cheeks. Silly after what we’d been doing, but the scrutiny and heat in his eyes as his gaze roved over me made me feel like he’d memorized every freckle. Like he’d noticed the way my right breast was ever so slightly smaller than my left. I wished I had never cut my hair to the middle of my back so I could swing it over my shoulder and cover myself.
He surged forward, grabbed my hips, and pushed his face against my belly. A surprised squeak exploded from my lips at the rough grasp of his hands on my waist. His tongue snaked out, and he licked a long line from one side to the other, dipping under the edge of my panties.
Guess he liked what he saw.
A lock of his ridiculous surfer hair fell into his eyes as he watched my face, running his thumbs over my hip bones. He hooked the edge of the thong with his fingers, and I lifted my hips at the unspoken command. The underwear ghosted over my legs and feet, and he dropped them to the floor. I relaxed back on to the dresser and focused on his chest, unable to meet his eyes. They glittered so sharply with his power that involuntary tears tracked down my cheeks.
His forefinger slid across my clit with just enough pressure to send a pulse through my entire body. “I’m going to bite you here.” The words brought a gush of wetness to my pussy and clenching in my belly. No one had ever done that before. “Then I’m going to suck on it.” He covered my taught knuckles with his palms. “Don’t move your hands.”