Fangs for the Memories by Kathy Love Page B

fingers teasing her, and her reaction as he did so.
    She groaned and arched into his touch, begging him for more.
    Again he obeyed, leaning forward to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, suckling her, carefully rasping the tender flesh with his teeth.
    She gasped and squirmed against his length, registering for the first time that he was naked as she felt his hard arousal sear her thigh. Her surprise was quickly overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth on her, suckling her.
    His mouth moved to lavish the same excruciatingly wonderful attention to the other nipple.
    “Please, Rhys,” she begged.
    “Please what, Jane?” he asked, his voice breathless, his eyes glowing even brighter than before.
    “I—I don’t know how to tell you what I want.”
    His eyes held hers. “Just tell me. You can tell me anything.”
    Her heart hammered in her chest, in her ears. Anything
? His words were the most thrilling fantasy she could imagine.
    She stared up at him. He was so beautiful, the cut of his jawline , the shape of his lips, his silky hair framing his face. And his body. He was truly a fantasy personified.
    And she didn’t have a clue what to do with him.
    “How about this,” he said as he leaned forward to nuzzle her ear, his breath caressing her skin, his words soft and rich like brushed suede. “I’ll do something, and you tell me if you like it.”
    She nodded, letting her eyes drift shut, savoring the feeling of his lips so close to her earlobe.
    He nibbled the soft flesh there.
    She whimpered, feeling the tiny bite throughout her body.
    “Do you like that?”
    She nodded again.
    He kissed her neck, his lips teasing the sensitive skin below her ear.
    She shivered, again feeling thrill dance through her limbs.
    His lips lingered for a moment, before he asked, “Did you like that?”
    “Yes.” Her voice was breathy.
    “Should I stay here?” He licked her neck. “Or move back to these?” He lifted himself up on one arm, so he could move a hand to her breasts, lightly brushing his palm over her so it barely skimmed the erect, aching points of her nipples.
    She gasped, the sound almost anguished. “My—my breasts. Please.”
    He grinned at her, the curve of his lips so arrogant, yet his eyes were filled with so much desire that he was breathtaking. Then his finger plucked at one of her swollen nipples, and her breath rushed back in a low hiss.
    “Do you like this?” He squeezed the hardened bud again, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger. “Or this?” He replaced his fingers with his mouth.
    “Rhys.” His name was a broken cry on her lips.
    He continued to draw on her aching nipples, pulling them deep into his mouth, using his tongue to tease her.
    She held her breath, the ache inside her so strong and intense it was almost unbearable. Is this how making love always felt? As though she was careening toward something she didn’t quite understand, and Rhys was the only one who could save her.
    “I love touching you,” he murmured against the swell of her breast. He rasped his tongue over her other nipple. “I love tasting you.”
    She writhed under him, her body begging for the things she couldn’t voice.
    “Where should I touch you next?” His question would have sounded offhanded if his breathing wasn’t as labored as hers.
    She wiggled against him again. One point on her body, centered between her thighs, desperately pleaded for his attention. But she still couldn’t tell him what she wanted.
    “Maybe you would like to be touched down here.” He trailed a finger between her legs, a faint brush against where she was desperate for him to caress, to touch.
    Her hip instinctively lifted, pressing herself against his hand.
    He groaned deep in his throat, then muttered roughly, “Janie, you are enough to kill a man.”
    She wasn’t sure that was a compliment, but she didn’t have much time to contemplate his words, because his fingers hooked the waistband of her pajama bottoms and