Immortals After Dark 03 - No Rest for the Wicked

just as he had that morning in his castle. She wanted it as much now as she had then. “You drive me mad, Katja,” he rasped. “I can think of nothing but you.”
    He rolled to his side, hand pinning hers above her head. He bent down to place an open-mouthed kiss on her collarbone. As his other hand dipped toward the waist of her pants, he said at her ear, “Tell me you think about me.”
    She might have murmured that she did think about him while he was inching that shaking hand down her belly. Was he shaking in anticipation of touching her flesh? He began pulling loose the tie on her pants, and she yanked her hands free—but not to stop him. No, she was letting him.
    Only fair, she thought deliriously, since I’m stuffing my hand into his pants. With her first touch of him, she moaned. He threw his head back and yelled out, bucking into her fist. So hot, so smooth and hard. She thumbed the slit in a wet circle.
    When he faced her again, his eyes were black with want.
    “We’ve got to stop this,” she whispered, even as she moved her fist on him. “These beasts... ”
    “Are suitably terrifying. Doubtless.” He pressed a brief, hot kiss to her mouth, then met her eyes again. “Appreciate it if you’d keep... stroking. ”
    She did. Her hand seemed magnetized to his shaft, loving when it pulsed and jerked in her palm. But even as he seemed to be losing control, he took his time with her, teasing her belly, then lower to her sex. She wanted passion, swift relief, but she got the impression that this was very important for him—that he wanted to savor every second.
    Just as he was about to work his hand into her panties, he froze, palm resting low on her belly. She shimmied up to get his hand lower.
    “Still,” he murmured. He shook his head hard, as if clearing it. She arched her back and looked behind her.
    Fifty yards away, slitted eyes the size of footballs glowed green in the dark.
    He exhaled. “I’ve seen better timing.”
    “You have such a gift for understatement.” Whose amused tone was that? She was in a sweltering cavern with vicious dragons about to be breathing down on them and a vampire’s big fingers inches from being worked inside her. “And you don’t seem suitably terrified. ”
    Her fight to keep from grinning ended when he said, “I’m sorry, Bride. I have to trace you from here.”
    She snatched her hand from his pants and his from hers, then rolled away.
    “I can fight them while you push the rocks.” Back on her feet, she retied her pants, then unsheathed her sword.
    The largest basilisk edged closer, no doubt thinking them trapped. Basilisks had a waddling gait that was completely misleading—a biological advantage that served to make prey docile. The tunnel wasn’t wide enough for more than one to pass, but when they got into the chamber, they could charge them at once.
    Sebastian stood as well. “That is not how this will work.”
    “I freaking kissed you! If I get into trouble, then you can trace me, but just try the rocks. Or you break our deal.”
    “For another kiss, then. Later. We need to finish what we’ve started here—”
    “ You’re curb-boosting me? ”
    He clearly didn’t understand the term. “You want out, then you’ll agree to get to somewhere dark within an hour after you get that prize.”
    Who was this new ruthless vampire? “Fine.” Very uncool. “You have a deal.” I’m lying like a rug. “Now, get your ass in gear and push.”
    With another shake of his head, he rose, surveyed the basilisk’s unhurried but steady progression, then set to the rocks.
    She should have been readying for a battle, scouting the lead basilisk’s crimson scales for weaknesses. And yet all her desire-saturated mind could think about was how utterly delicious the muscles of his back looked, bulging with strain, threatening to rip through his shirt. She wanted to squeeze them, scratch them, lick them.
    She should be worrying about the siren, about the contest, or, hey, how about the dragons?
    The beast slowly pressed down on them, and she could make out a second’s eyes peeking out just behind it. As soon as the rocks went, they’d spring in attack.
    She kept jerking glances over her shoulder. Regin had asked her what her type was. As he turned to push with his back, displaying chiseled abs beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, Kaderin admitted it to herself.
    She apparently fancied black-haired, grave-eyed vampires of the excruciatingly gorgeous type.