I shook my head. “I’m not really interested in after parties. If the real party isn’t the party, then why bother?” I said.
After a few moments of not really saying anything he reached over and picked up my hand.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
“We should have our own party.” He kissed my knuckles and I felt compelled to go with him. I wasn’t sure where we would be going, but I wanted to go with him. He pulled me into his arms and we began to slow dance even though there was no music. It was all very romantic, and charming.
For once I didn’t have those annoying thoughts of men like him didn’t fall for women who looked like me. Even though I probably should have. His eyes were hypnotic blue and I felt like I was sinking into them. His smile made me feel special. He pulled my arms tighter around him, and my entire body pressed to his.
“Should we take this party upstairs?” he asked.
“What’s upstairs?”
“I have rooms,” he said.
It made perfect sense that he would have rooms here. I already decided this place was some kind of exclusive country club, didn’t those have private suites?
“That could be interesting.” My ability to think clearly was gone.
Gus’s lips teased my ear and then began to nibble at the skin along my throat. His kisses found that spot where neck meets shoulder and I forgot words. It had been a long time since I’d been touched, and his touch was better than anything I had remembered.
He held me tighter. He shifted his grip on me, taking my hand and kissing the inside of my elbow, trailing kisses down my arm until he sucked at my inner wrist.
No one had ever done that before. I had no idea the wrist could be so erotic. My vocabulary was gone. The only thing I managed to know how to say was, “Oh.” And I said it over and over and over again with each lick, suck, and kiss.
“Maybe we should take this party somewhere else,” I said between gasps. “Up to those rooms you have.”
I wasn’t comfortable having a private party out here in the open. Even though we were closed in by fog.
He muttered something in a language I couldn’t recognize, or the fog had invaded my brain to such a point where I no longer comprehended anything other than his mouth on mine.
His kisses turned into the softest love bites. He was going to leave a hickey on my neck. I didn’t care, I had enough scarves at home to cover it.
His teeth caught the skin of my shoulder.
“Hey too hard. Don’t bite.” I didn’t push him away. I figured telling him biting too hard wasn’t a good thing.
Gus mumbled something that sounded like an apology before returning to softer kisses. His hands skimmed over my hips and up my ribs until he cupped one of my breasts. He found a nipple under the clothing and rubbed his thumb over it in circles.
My vocabulary never recovered as I melted into him.
I tugged at his shirt, so I could touch the skin of his back. He was cool to the touch, though his body felt hot pressed against me.
He held me tighter and tighter. It was beginning to become uncomfortable.
“Too much Gus, too much.” I tried to push against his shoulders, to ease him back. It was one thing to metaphorically want to become one with each other, but we had too many clothes on at the moment. He wasn’t going to meld me into his body by squeezing so hard. He muttered something in that language and began to squeeze even harder. It was difficult to breathe
His sucking and pulling on my neck was even harder. It hurt.
“Hey, that hurts. You need to find another spot.” I squirmed and tried to push away. His muscles were solid. It was as if he was carved out of the same stone that the balustrade was. I couldn’t budge him.
“Hey,” I started yelling. “Hey, my God, stop! Gus you’re hurting me.” I tried to fight, but he had me in a vice grip. His hand turned from a soft cupping to hard claws. It felt like he would tear my breast off as he bit into my neck. I screamed even louder.
I couldn’t hold myself up on my feet. I screamed as my knees gave way. Gus held on, and followed me down. I needed him to support me, to help me. Instead it felt as if he were pushing me down into a well.
What do you do when your imaginary friends start pestering you with images of sexy male strippers and hot were-shifters? You write stories about them. Well, that's what I did! Oh, and then I combine them and toss them in a kilt for good measure!
Hi, my name is Lulu and I write sexy hot contemporary and paranormal romance. Welcome to my website.
Making the Para "Normal" and the Supernatural Extraordinary.