Blood Secret by Sharon Page

again and took her mouth once more.
    Strangely, even though she had no idea where Jack was, she couldn’t help smiling softly against his hot, beautiful lips. She needed this. It kept her from worrying. And the duke looked so beautiful when he kissed her. His lashes lowered—it struck her as odd that such an experienced man would kiss with his eyes half-closed, as though he were shy. Her eyes were wide open, taking in every detail she could, though they were rather too close for her to see properly.
    She could see the oddest things. Part of his right earlobe was missing. A deep scar—no, three scars—ran along his right cheek. His skin was pale, though that was not uncommon for some gentlemen, as men of the ton gambled and drank all night, then were too sick and sore-headed to face the light of day.
    But he wasn’t just a gentleman. He was a vampire.
    Lucy knew nothing more about vampires than the tales that were told in villages—and there were two basic stories. Vampires were soulless beasts who mindlessly fed on blood. Or they were clever and beautiful and lured you into baring your neck.
    When the duke kissed her, it made her want to bare anything for him.
    But then, she’d already let him see, touch, make love to everything.
    He stopped kissing her, rested his lips by her ear, and spoke. “Lovely one, I do not even need to read your thoughts to know. You are hot with desire. As much as you like to be kissed, you want more.”
    “What do you mean you do not need to read my thoughts?” Shock, then fear, tumbled through her. “You cannot do that, can you?”
    He smiled. “Vampires can. But I cannot read yours, and I suspect that is because you are a dragon.”
    Never would Lucy have imagined a man would say that in a matter-of-fact tone. “But you don’t really seem like a vampire.”
    “Because I haven’t gone for your throat? No, my dear, I can control my craving for blood.”
    As though to prove it, he ran his tongue along her neck. It sent sparks of heat shooting through her. She quivered so hard with desire she feared she might dissolve.
    “You are thinking about coaxing me to explore you with my mouth,” he murmured. “Have my lips trail down your neck, down to the scoop of your neckline. You’re thinking about letting me run my tongue over your breasts. See if I can coax them out of your bodice so I can suck your nipples.”
    She moaned against his mouth. The images he was painting in her mind set her on fire. How—how could he have guessed her thoughts with such uncanny accuracy? Could he actually read her mind despite what he’d said? Or had he read all of that in her kiss?
    “You are thinking you want me to push up your skirts,” he continued. His lips pressed softly against her neck. They parted and she felt the scrape of teeth. Instinctively, she tensed, and tried to draw back but the seat resisted. Even as fear coiled in her belly, her skin came alive at the very place his teeth brushed.
    Pursing his lips lightly against her neck, he suckled. She squeaked. Goodness, that felt wonderful. Pleasure snaked down from her neck, warming her heart, heating her belly, making her throb between her legs. She was panting.
    “You want me to undo the falls of my trousers and lie on top of you. You want my hard thrusts. You want me to drive deep into you.”
    She did, but it was as if he’d taken control of her. He could stoke desire in her with only a few sentences, with just a few naughty visions he conjured in her mind.
    Lucy saw, with a jolt of awareness, that when he aroused her, he controlled her. She had always kept such rigid control of herself, but with Greystone, she surrendered control. Too much of it, she feared.
    When she had made love with him, she had turned into a dragon.
    Panic welled. She had to get out of this kiss before he stole all her control away. Never had she felt such a desperate need to escape.
    But he kissed a sizzling path back to her lips. He whispered, “There’s