Demon Moon

trembling in anticipation of a simple kiss .
    She lifted the handle. She didn’t look at Colin as she slid into the soft leather seat and tossed her bag to the floorboard. The dome light closed with the door.
    “You think too much,” he said.
    “I can’t help it.” Any of it. This was madness.
    “I know.”
    Why didn’t he do it? She sucked in a deep breath, tried to control the beating of her heart.
    Impossible. Even demons and Guardians couldn’t control that.
    Ah, hell . She shifted, planted her knee in her seat. He’d turned toward her. The center console was in the way, but she leaned over it as his hands rose to cup her face, as his mouth lifted to hers.
    His fingers were warm, and his lips firm and soft. How could they be both? God, she didn’t know, but she wanted to explore them until she found a satisfactory explanation. It might take forever. She fisted her hands on his lapels and pulled him closer, then used his chest as support when his tongue slid past hers and her strength left her.
    Gently, he traced the shape of her mouth, the curves of her lips, the edges of her teeth as if memorizing the texture and design.
    No, no—he could have the kiss but not her . She tried to wrest back control, licked his fangs with delicate flicks of her tongue, but he only growled low in his throat and took over again.
    Oh, god. Think, Savi . But she couldn’t; he tasted like mint and he smelled so good, his skin and hair like heated satin and thick silk beneath her fingers. When had she moved them from his chest to his nape? She had no memory of it.
    And now she straddled him, the steering wheel tight against her spine. He groaned into her mouth and fumbled with one hand and the pressure eased as the seat fell back.
    “Colin,” she gasped as his lips left her, but he was pushing aside her coat and lifting her tank and then her breast was deep in his mouth, his fangs pressing into the softness surrounding her nipple. Her back arched. His tongue circled and stroked, and she panted and ground her hips against him—she couldn’t get to his cock; there wasn’t enough space to find the angle to rub against him, though she was tight and wet and aching.
    In the next second he pulled her down, flat against him, her face buried in his neck. “Bloody hell.” He said it from between clenched teeth, but she heard the amusement lurking behind the frustration.
    “What is it?” Lilith and Hugh coming for their motorcycles? She began laughing silently, uncontrollably. It had been years since she’d made out in a car—usually parked a block away from Nani’s house and praying her grandmother wouldn’t happen upon them.
    He took a deep breath, and her entire body lifted with his chest. His shaft rose hard beneath her abdomen. She shivered, and her laughter died.
    His hand came up between them and covered her bare breast, still wet from his mouth. “I almost bit you. Your nipple like a berry against my tongue, and I’d have bit and drank and—” He stopped, as if his words were a temptation in themselves.
    She didn’t move, tried to process what it meant. She couldn’t—there were too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many sensations.
    “I should get up,” she finally whispered.
    His fingers briefly tightened on her waist before he nodded his agreement.
    Earlier, she’d slid over the console as if need had oiled her way; now, she bumped and lurched awkwardly to her own seat. She tugged her tank into place. A glance confirmed that he was as elegantly composed as ever—if she disregarded the glittering heat in his eyes.
    She was certain she’d held her shields. He could’ve smashed through them with a single draw of her blood, but he hadn’t.
    She licked her lips; his flavor lingered on her tongue. “Are you still waiting for an invitation?”
    “Yes. The bloodlust, however, is a bit of a bounder. It cares nothing of etiquette, or being the gentleman. And as you were willing, so it would be. I’d not be able to resist it.” He touched his forefinger to the dash. Three glistening drops remained on the veneer when he drew back; she leaned forward and saw the symbols etched beneath the blood. “In the gym, you lowered your shields in response to pain. I imagine a sharp bite would produce the same effect. If I’d simply wanted past your psychic blocks, I would have hurt you without taking your blood, made it seem a part of loveplay.”
    Her heart caught in her throat as she stared at him. Did she