Before she had even fully processed that, Dante was tugging at her towel.
Mary immediately released the bag at her mouth and tried to grab at his hands. Fortunately, there was so little left in the bag at her mouth that it didn’t fall away and splash everywhere. Unfortunately, Dante was quicker than her and by the time her hand reached his he’d pulled the sides of the towel apart, exposing her. Mary clutched his wrist anyway and squeezed her eyes closed as she felt a blush rise up over her face. She hadn’t been bothered at all at his seeing her when he’d walked up behind her as she’d been examining herself in the bathroom mirror. But then, she hadn’t been so exposed then, her legs spread to him. Then too, the body in the mirror hadn’t really felt like hers yet in that moment. In truth, it still didn’t, but she wasn’t looking at a mirror, she was sitting with her legs wide open as Dante—
Her stomach gave a sharp jolt and Mary blinked her eyes open as he pressed a kiss to her stomach. It was such a sweet, tender action . . . and then his hands closed over her breasts and his mouth moved to claim one already erect nipple.
Mary nearly bit right through the dwindling blood bag then. Managing to restrain herself, she eased her grip on it and then moaned around the plastic as he suckled first one nipple, then the other. He was so enthusiastic in his attention that she was surprised when the moment the last drop of blood had been drawn from the bag at her mouth, he was aware of it and reached up to pluck it away and toss it to the floor. Dante immediately wrapped his hand around her neck and drew her forward for a kiss. Mary kissed him eagerly back, one hand covering his where he was still caressing her breast, and the other sliding around his shoulder to pull him closer against her.
Dante let her have her way and, releasing her breast, slid both arms around her, pressing her close and then shifting his chest across hers. Mary moaned and found her legs wrapping themselves around his hips as the soft cloth of his T-shirt brushed across her erect nipples. Hearing, sight, taste, and smell were only four of the senses. Touch was the fifth one, and Mary was quite sure the nanos had improved that too and made her more sensitive. Certainly she had never been set afire by such a light caress. A butterfly’s wings probably would have been stronger than that brush of hair, but her body responded eagerly to the caress and her kiss became a little more desperate.
Dante responded by thrusting his tongue into her mouth and urging her back onto the bed until she lay flat with only her legs hanging off from the knees down. He kissed her thoroughly, once, then broke the kiss and slapped the last bag of blood to her fangs before rising up and backing off of her.
This time Mary groaned in disappointment at losing his kiss as well as his touch, but he was not done. She could feel his hips still between her knees, then he began to press kisses to her stomach, blazing a trail down to her hip and nibbling there briefly before moving between her legs.
Mary cried out against the new blood bag, her hips bucking as his mouth found her sweet spot. It was really quite amazing that she didn’t split the bag with her hands right then, but she somehow managed to keep from crushing it, all while twisting her head on the bed, her body jumping and trying to move simultaneously away from his caress and into it at the same time. It didn’t move anywhere, however. Dante was holding her down with his hands and arms as he worked and Mary was left to tremble helplessly under his ministrations until the bag at her mouth was finally empty and she could tear it away.
Throwing it to the side, Mary promptly sat up then and reached for Dante. The moment her hands touched his shoulders, he lifted his head, then rose up on his knees again. Now able to reach him, Mary immediately began tugging at his shirt, eager to get him as naked as her. Much to her relief, he helped, pulling the T-shirt off over his head the moment she got it free of his jeans. His hands then lowered to the snap of the black jeans he wore, but Mary already had that undone. He however, lowered the zipper and stood to push the heavy cloth down his legs. When he stepped out of them, kicked the jeans aside and turned back to face her, Mary simply stared. She’d seen him naked when they first met, of course, but not really, not fully, just glimpses and peeks before forcing herself to look away, and then she had been full of guilt for doing so. Now Mary took a good long look without that attendant guilt . . . and he was absolutely beautiful.