Sensual Danger (Venice Vampyr #4)

When he pushed himself away from the door and took a step into the room, Oriana’s head suddenly whipped in his direction. Her eyes widened, but within a split-second, she had herself under control again, hiding her outraged expression. She could have fooled any man and made him think she was indifferent to his presence, just not Nico, because at the same time he could hear her accelerated heartbeat as it beat a frantic tattoo against her ribcage. Her bosom heaved in concert with it.

“Good morning, Oriana,” he greeted her and approached as slowly as a tiger its prey.

“Good morning, signore,” she answered and turned to look at her plate, stabbing her fork into a morsel of biscuit, before she brought it to her lips and chewed longer than was necessary.

Clearly a ploy so she wouldn’t have to converse with him. Little did she know that he hadn’t come to talk.

“I trust you slept well,” Nico continued and took a seat opposite her, reaching for a biscuit and putting it on his plate even though he had no intention of eating it.

He’d long ago mastered the art of moving food around his plate without anybody noticing that he never actually ate any of it. He distracted those who watched him with conversation and by cutting the food into smaller pieces, then rearranging it on his plate so that it looked as if he’d eaten some of it.

Not that he would even make a pretense of it today. He had, after all, more important things to do: he had to seduce his wife.

“Yes, very well. And you, did you sleep well?”

Her voice was a soft trickle, and he wondered how she would sound when she lay in his arms, panting in ecstasy. Would her voice be even more breathless? Even huskier? Or would she still pretend that he didn’t affect her?

“I slept terribly, my sweet wife, and I hope to remedy this situation very soon.”

When he lifted his lids and looked straight at her, he noticed a pink blush spread over her cheeks, but she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his gaze and instead stared at her empty plate.

Then she removed the napkin from her lap and folded it, placing it neatly next to her plate. “If you’ll excuse me. I have things to attend to.”

She rose swiftly, but he was faster. Before she could make two steps away from the table, he had her cornered between it and the paneled wall.

“Signore! If you’d please let me pass,” she requested, her voice tight.

“My name is Nico.” He took another step closer, bringing his body flush with hers.

“Signore . . . ”

He shook his head.

Finally she seemed to understand. “Nico, please, would you let me pass?”

“If that’s what you truly want, Oriana.” He closed the distance between their heads, allowing his lips to hover mere centimeters above her mouth. His action had caused her to press herself against the wall behind her, leaving her nowhere else to go.

“Y-yes,” she stammered.

Nico leaned in closer. “How can you know what you truly want, my sweet, when you don’t know what options you have? Why don’t I show you some of them? Maybe then you can choose what you like best.”

And he hoped her taste was similar to his.

His lips met hers, pressing softly against them. He wasn’t going to behave like a barbarian and force himself on her. No, he’d rather tease her with his touch and coax a reaction from her. Sliding his lips gently across her mouth, he slanted his head a little to the side. Without haste, he inhaled her scent and tasted her skin.

She was rigid beneath him, not moving at all: neither to push him away nor to pull him closer. But he knew how to elicit reactions from women, even from a woman who believed sex to be a painful and dirty undertaking—she wouldn’t remain frozen like this for long.

Slowly, Nico brought his hand to her neck, sliding it to her nape. His fingers pushed up into her hair, while his thumb caressed the soft skin below her ear. Her pulse beat against his thumb as loudly as a drum. He sensed her tremble under his touch, yet she didn’t turn her head to sever the contact.

“Oriana,” he whispered against her mouth, before he parted his lips and licked his tongue against the seam of her lips.

A gasp escaped her.

Combing his hand through her hair and in the process disturbing some of the pins that held her coiffure up, he slanted his lips over her mouth, licking over it again. Under light pressure, she parted her lips. She finally understood what he wanted. Or had she simply wanted to take a breath? It didn’t matter, because all he could think of was the warm and moist cavern he now explored. With gentle and measured strokes, he delved into her mouth, ever so softly licking over her teeth, before touching her tongue.

A bolt of lightning charged through him, turning his insides into an inferno in an instant. A groan came over his lips before he could stop it. Just like he couldn’t stop another bodily reaction: after having been semi-erect ever since entering the room, his cock swelled to its full size, the blood pumping into it bringing it near bursting. His eager appendage pushed against the flap of his trousers, pressing into the buttons. He could only hope that the thread with which the buttons were sewn was strong enough, or he would burst from his trousers and make a fool of himself.