Page 74 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

What possessed her to awaken from a sound sleep with an urge to have sex? And I don’t even like sex.

What possessed her to be the aggressor, the one to suggest sex play? I wouldn’t know sex play if it hit me in my lady parts and played the tuba.

What possessed her to suck in fresh, rainy air like it was life-giving oxygen? Oxygen is overrated, in my opinion.

What possessed her fangs to elongate and throb? Well, not really throb. More like, become overly sensitive. Semantics!

Regina was lying atop Zeb (how did that happen?), and his talented hands were alternately caressing her back under her T-shirt, where he magically undid the clasp of her bra, and then they crept inside her sweatpants and panties, both at once, and were cupping her bare behind, urging her to move against him in ways she couldn’t have imagined. Who knew? Who knew?

“So soft, so soft,” he murmured against her neck. “I forgot how soft a woman’s skin is.”

Is he thinking about Sarah?

Do I mind?

Only a little.

His palms ran from her shoulders to her thighs, and back up again, under her clothing. “How sweet it tastes!” He licked her neck.

I think my bones are melting.

She wanted to stroke the scars that she knew crisscrossed his back, but he was pressed to the mattress. So she examined with her fingertips the soft bristles of new hair on his bald head. “There’s something sexy about a bald man,” she whispered against his ear.

She could hear the laughter in his voice as he replied, “Then I’ll have to continue shaving it.”

“I also like long hair. You looked good in long hair when I saw you last year.”

“Well, then, I’ll have to alternate. Anything to please my lady.” He nipped at her ear as he spoke, then laved it with his tongue.

Yikes! His breath in her ear was as erotic as the most intimate act. And she thrilled at his calling her his lady, even as she realized how pathetic and needy that must make her. She did not care. These feelings . . . these wonderful, torturous, too-good-to-be-true erotic sensations . . . were too hard to resist.

Totally new to her.

And totally unexpected.

Who knew there was such a sensual side of her just waiting to be unleashed? She knew exactly what it was. She’d been asleep her whole misbegotten life, and now she was awakening into her newborn self. Not unlike her cat Thor after a long nap. Stretching out, arching, unfurling. Layer upon layer of new senses.

Zeb cupped her nape then and drew her mouth to his. At first he adjusted them from side to side so they fit just right. (Those damn fangs!) But then he forced her mouth open and plunged his tongue inside. Before she had a chance to protest that she did not like tongue kissing, he withdrew. Then in again, and this time, it wasn’t so bad. By the third time, she was welcoming him. Hot, wet, hungry kisses ensued. She gave as much as she got.

When she moaned her pleasure and rubbed her breasts against his chest, reflexively, he groaned his pleasure back at her, and slid both hands under her shirt, brushing her loose bra aside. Then he lifted both breasts from underneath and used his thumbs to strum the nipples to life. As if anticipating her response, he held her head in place with one hand so he could kiss her, hard, and she cried out into his mouth her sheer bliss. He would not stop. He continued to play with her breasts with one hand as she was forced to endure his deep kisses by his hand gripping the back of her head.

She stiffened her legs and tried to forestall the climax that was fast approaching. How embarrassing! To come from mere kissing or touching!

“No, no. Don’t fight it. Let yourself go. Let me see you melt.” He put his mouth to one of her breasts, right over the T-shirt fabric and sucked. Rhythmically.

Oh! Oh! Oh! She did, in fact, melt into unbearably tantalizing spasms that emanated from between her legs—which had somehow become even wider spread with Zeb’s erection pressing against her—and rippled outward throughout her body in waves.

She gasped for breath and said, finally, after calming her racing heart, “What about you?” It was obvious that he hadn’t come to orgasm himself, as evidenced by the continuing erection that still nudged her center and the slight panting that emanated from his parted lips.

“I’m okay,” he said, raising his head upward a little to kiss her softly.

He was not okay, she could tell. He was frustrated, sexually, and trying not to show it. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not going to make a fool of myself with a one-sided sex show, and you just lie there like a loaf of bread.”

“Are you kidding? It wasn’t one-sided at all. I got as much pleasure as you did. Well, almost. And I participated, too. In fact . . . oh, Lord . . . what are you doing?”

She’d slid down so she was sitting on his thighs and was in the process of unzipping his jeans. Parting the pants, she could see a sizeable erection through the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” she said and ran her fingers from his balls to the tip of his penis.