He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Of course.”
They sat there for a moment in awkward silence, their gazes locked, and thoughts flying.
Christine wondered if he always kissed as restrained as he had before. He kept his control tight around him as if he was afraid of what might happen if it came loose. Cool and indifferent, that’s what he was. Nothing particularly revved him up. She had the distinct interest in seeing what did.
This might be due to the three or four glasses of wine she’d just imbibed.
Dmetri gave her an arched look as she stood. She smiled in return and crossed around the table to him. The restaurant was mostly empty now and the nearest table of people wouldn’t be able to see them from the partition that separated them.
“What are you doing?”
She pushed at his shoulder until he leaned back in his chair, then she skillfully sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stared at her with shock...and heat in his eyes.
She liked how she felt in his lap. He was warm but not excessively so, not like a lykaen would be. His suit was soft against her bare skin where she rested on it. The material was fine and well made, probably even tailored. She had no doubt that it was expensive, too. The man did have higher tastes. That only made her smile that she’d attracted his attention. The air that he held himself in said he was the kind of man, or vampire, that only went with classy broads. She shivered, women like her mother probably.
“What are you doing?” he asked again, his voice low, rough.
Christine pressed her lips to his ear and bit down on the soft lobe. His entire body tightened in response, hands coming up to wrap around her back and thigh. She inwardly applauded him for not touching her beneath her dress; instead, he cupped her from atop the material. Like a gentleman, she mused.
“Kissing you,” she whispered in his ear.
And then she pressed her lips to his cheek. He was cool to the touch and smooth. He smelled rich and delicious this close but the scent was subtle and unique to him. She trailed soft kisses along his jaw line then veered up as she neared his mouth.
She pressed one gentle kiss to the corner of his lips and they parted underneath hers, the hands holding her flexed. Her blood warmed, coming to a slow boil the longer she touched him.
She wanted to touch more, feel more of him. He was so different from lykaen men, so different from any of the men she knew.
“Millaya moya, ” he said.
She didn’t understand what he said but she understood his tone—warning.
Christine didn’t hold back any longer. She was floating above the earth with the taste of sweet wine on her tongue and the delicious feel of a strong man in her arms. She pressed her lips against his and conquered.
Her tongue slipped between his lips, felt the sharp points of fangs, and then glided along his tongue. It was smooth and he tasted heady, decadent. She’d kissed many men in her life, but none had she kissed like this. Like she wanted to show him how badly she wanted him, like she was trying to learn more about him.
She angled her head to the side and coaxed her tongue against his. For a few moments, he didn’t return the motion, as if shocked or unsure. But then he did, and she moaned.
She thought she was in control, that she’d taken the reins with her need, but she was so wrong. He mastered her with one simple touch. His hands tightened, curling her against him more comfortably, and then he was kissing her.
This kiss was nothing like the gentle pecks he’d given her before. This kiss stole her breath from her and gave it back. His tongue swept inside her mouth and mated with hers in a sensual rhythm that had her panties growing wet and her nipples hardening as sweet desire warmed her. She never thought it’d be like this.
His lips moved against hers, tasting her from different angles, sucking her lips into his mouth, and brushing his tongue along it. Christine’s saucy plan had just backfired and now she was losing control.
She squirmed in his lap. Her pussy throbbed, needing to be touched and as she wiggled, she fell fully against his thighs and felt his massive erection. She gasped against his mouth and he made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr before capturing it again. His tongue thrust faster inside her mouth and she met it stroke for stroke, each taste, each touch making her hotter and hotter.
How had she been glad he kept his hand above her dress? She was mad with desire now.
She needed him to trail that hand up her bare thigh, squeeze her, and move upwards to where she really needed him. She wanted that hand at her back to reach around and squeeze her breast, relieve the ache in her tight nipple. But he didn’t, and she couldn’t stop squirming in his arms.
A harsh cough brought her up for air. Panting, lips wet and swollen, she looked up to see their waiter standing there with a scowl on his face. She might have blushed with embarrassment but her cheeks were already flushed.
She moved to stand, but Dmetri tightened his hands on her. She couldn’t bear to look at either man.
“Can I help you?” Dmetri asked, cold steel in his voice.
The waiter blinked, hesitation stirring in his eyes. “Um, Sir, you can’t do that here.” Dmetri stood with her in his arms. Now feeling real mortification, she struggled until he let her go.
“Fine.” Dmetri pulled out his wallet and threw some money on the table, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled her through the restaurant. It was like being pulled on a leash by an impatient dog owner. She tripped in her heels and tried to yank her hand away.
“Dammit, let me go.”
He didn’t. He held her hand tighter and led her towards his car.
“Dmetri, seriously this is completely unnecessary. What is wrong with you?” Desire faded fast in lieu of frustration.
He stopped at the passenger side door and finally released her hand. It didn’t hurt but she rubbed at it anyways. He had his eyes closed as if he was getting himself under control. She was about to ask what was wrong again when he opened his eyes and nailed her with a look so powerful it took her breath away—and scared the shit out of her.
“Dmetri...”
She started to back away even though he hadn’t made a move. Instinct warned her of danger. Her back hit the car and she slid alongside it towards the back of the car, hands held out in front of her, placating.
He followed her. His long legs ate up the short distance between them and then he pressed his body against hers. She gasped as her nipples, still sensitive from being hard only minutes before, rubbed against the hard plane of his chest. His hands came up to cradle her jaw, arching her face towards his. His expression was almost thunderous.
“Never kiss me like that again.” His accent was so thick; it ran his words together in a growl.
She had been staring at his lips, slender, arched perfectly, when he said that. It took a minute for her mind to wrap around the strange words.
“What? Why?” She knew he wanted her. He couldn’t hide the erection he’d sported inside or hide the way he looked at her. If he dared to say it was because he didn’t want her, she’d knee him in the junk right here and now.
“Because...” His eyes closed as if in pain.
“Because...” she said.
His eyes shot open, leveled on hers. Then he leaned down close, their noses nearly touching. “Because I almost took you…on the table…inside the restaurant.” She shivered at the sound of his voice, his accent so thick she could swim through it. That kiss had unraveled him that badly? Her mind spun. She could easily see him doing that. Pushing her back on the table and taking her in the restaurant with no care for spectators or modesty. The thought was incredibly exciting.