Page 35 of Hidden

He’s fast. That’s all it is. Not vampire fast.

He uses that speed to grab me and set me on the edge of a forgotten table. His lips crushing mine like he’s starved for only the air I exhale.

And I kiss him back, my nails raking down his back and my legs locking him in, like the spider monkey I am.

“Did you think you were going to get far?” he nips at my lips.

“No.” I nip back. “I hoped you’d come for me.”

He pauses, his eyes flicking between mine.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You said everything right.” His lips are back on mine in the next moment, kissing me with every ounce of him. His tongue tangles with mine and not in that sloppy way.

No, no, no.

Leif Dagon can kiss. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his tongue too. Soft as it scrapes against mine. His hands in my hair tug it out of the updo I painstakingly did in an attempt to tame the strands.

“So much hair.” He tosses the pins. “I’ve dreamt of running my fingers through these strands.” I swear he shudders as he does just that.

I love when a man reacts to me. Just touching me, existing with me, breathing beside me.

“You dreamt of me?” I blink up at him, almost desperate at the question. As though I’m letting him know too much of just how much I want him.

“Oh, Hadley.” He presses kisses to my neck, his one hand gripping my ribs, his thumb rubs devastatingly slow circles under my breast. “I’ve dreamt so much of you.” Then I swear under his breath he whispers, “I just didn’t know I could have you.”

“Why?” I pull back, resting on my elbows behind me. Unashamed that I’m naked at the Penn likely on the security cameras. Legs splayed. Wait. Maybe I should…

“No one can see you.”

“How did you know?”

“You looked at the camera.”

“Did you take them out?” The unspoken second half sits behind my teeth.Like you took Callie out.Except I know she’s okay.

Otherwise why would I be here, with him. I have to believe that.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even bother to lie. One palm presses to my chest, pushing me back onto the table. Then he grips my ankles, setting them on the edge of the table and he pushes my knees apart.

Why thatyessettles me is a question I know will keep me awake long into the night. Maybe tomorrow when I have time to reflect on this.

He licks his lips, his eyes doing that sparkling thing as he looks at me like a feast.

“Look at you. You look like my favorite meal,” he mutters, that one palm sliding down to press on my lower stomach. “Has anyone fucked you like this?” he asks, pushing harder.

“On a table at the Penn?”

“No.” He frees his cock again, the hard shaft dripping precum as he lines himself up. He pushes slowly inside me, his eyes never leaving my face as he watches every sound I make. Every gasp. Every quickened exhale. “See, if I press like this.” He pushes on my lower abdomen then thrusts forward.

My scream echoes all around us. Bouncing off the museum walls. My back arches on the table. My hands try to find somewhere to hold. But there’s only him.

So I hold onto him, my nails digging into his flesh.

“Mmm.” He hums. “See, I can feel my cock.” He withdraws slowly.

“I feel.” Thrust. “Oh.” The sensation is indescribable and words fail me.