Bound by Elisabeth Naughton

frayed rope tickled her leg. He tugged again, not gently this time but quickly, until her weight shifted out from under her, and she fell against every hard, muscular inch of him.
    She gasped, but the sensations rushing from his skin into hers were so invigorating, so restorative, she couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped from her lips. And then she didn’t want to because—oh gods— he felt good. The length of his body was flush against hers, easing the burn, calming her frazzled nerve endings, making her want in ways she never had before.
    “You’re so hot, ligos Vesuvius .”
    His sensual voice cut through the haze. Pressure built beneath her ribs. “Too hot?” She tried to sit up. “I—”
    His arms closed around her, and he held her tight as if he didn’t ever want to let her go. “Not too hot. Never too hot.”
    Her lashes lifted. Slowly, she met his gaze, and her breath caught. Energy crackled between them. A sizzle and arc she felt everywhere. His eyes seemed to be looking deep inside a part of her no one else had ever seen. Little warning flags fired off in her mind. “You…you shouldn’t be near me. I’m not what you think I am.”
    “What do I think you are?”
    She had no idea. She just knew she didn’t want to hurt him. Not like she had that guard. And the longer he stayed with her, the greater the chances she’d do just that. “I think…you’re blind to the real me.”
    A chuckle rumbled through his chest, permeated her own, and brought another rush of refreshing tingles to her skin. His hand moved from the small of her back to her hair. His thick fingers sifted through her curly locks. “You know, the ancient Greeks thought having red hair was a sign of being a vampire.”
    She lifted her head to get a better look at his face. “You think I’m going to suck your blood?”
    His whole body tightened beneath her, and a smile played with the edges of his mouth. “At the moment, I’m hoping you’ll suck something else.”
    He was cracking jokes. She couldn’t help it. She laughed. And oh, it felt good to laugh. To smile. She couldn’t remember the last time the pressure in her chest was gone and a lightness like she was experiencing now floated through her limbs. “Titus, I—”
    He lifted his head, and before she could get the rest of the words out, his lips pressed against hers.
    Soft. Cool. Electric. Tingles rushed through her whole body. She knew she shouldn’t let him kiss her, should be pushing away right this very second, but she couldn’t. And when he nipped at her lower lip, when she felt the tip of his tongue slide across the seam of her mouth, she gave up the fight. She opened to him, drew his warm, slick tongue inside, and tasted him for the very first time.
    Thought fled. Reason disappeared. All the protests she’d been about to voice drifted out of her reach.
    He was like a waterfall. Like a cool flood of relief, pouring over her skin, easing the burn from the outside in. Rejuvenating her in ways she couldn’t imagine.
    She groaned. Or maybe he did. She wasn’t sure. All she could focus on was the way he cupped her face in both hands. The way he tipped his head and kissed her deeper. The way his lush, tantalizing tongue tasted like sin and salvation against her own.
    She’d been kissed before, but it had been so long ago, she barely remembered what it was like. And she knew it had never been as refreshing and consuming as this. Her muscles tightened against his. Her fingers dug into his chest. Her legs shifted open until his thighs pressed against the insides of hers.
    Desire built, awakened inside her. His hand slid from her hair to her lower back to pull her body tighter against him. And oh, he was hard, and thick, and clearly as turned on her. That excitement grew. Overwhelmed. Possessed her from every angle.
    His tongue probed deep into her mouth, tasted her everywhere, and she returned his kiss with the same enthusiasm, the same hunger. Time seemed to stand