Wicked Encounters (The Wicked Series: Season 1)

Thirteen

She chews on the inside of her cheek and appears to consider my words, but I can tell she isn't really considering them at all. She's not going to stop tempting me. She's doing this on purpose. She knows how close I was to kissing her before she was taken underwater, and I don't think she means to stop until she gets what she wants. 

If I didn't know better, I'd say she was just as much a siren as Lorelai. 

Her fingers slip from her hair and travel to my wrist, brushing against my bare skin. "What if I don't want to stop tempting you? What if that's exactly what I want to do? And what you may not know about me yet is that while I am pretty mild-mannered and laidback, and I may not know what the fuck I want to do with my life...when I do know what I want...I get it." 

I intertwine my fingers with hers. Her hand is so small, delicate, each bone beneath her supple skin fragile. The ways I could break her, bend her, drown inside her. "Could you be content with just one taste?" The question is just as much for me as it is for her. 

She swallows, and I watch each movement in her neck, my fangs practically begging to be released, to sink into the ivory flesh. 

"Which kind of taste, Elias? The taste of your lips on mine? Or my blood in your veins? Because while I don't know anything about how the latter is going to feel, I know how the mere brush of your lips against mine affected me earlier tonight, and I don't know if I could just have one taste of your mouth," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, but I hear every word loud and clear. 

My fingers release hers and travel up her arm. The warmth of her skin and the soft give have me closing my eyes. I journey higher, over her shoulder and up her neck, lingering at her pulse point. All that sweet mortal life-force flowing just beneath the surface. The tip of my tongue plays at my canine until I nip the flesh, jarring me from the ache that starts at my teeth and shoots down to the pit of my stomach.

Cordelia's breath hitches as I slide my hand to the back of her neck and pull her close. "Are you sure you want this?" I ask, sliding my lips against hers. 

"Yes," she breathes, gripping the front of my t-shirt in her fist. "Please, Elias." And when she nips my bottom lip with her incisors, desire floods my veins. 

It is that soft-spoken plea that shatters my resolve. My lips claim hers, and my question from earlier is answered. One taste will never be enough. She tastes of sugary hope, rich passion, and the zest of sunshine. One sweep of her tongue along mine and I'm lost to the delicacy that is Cordelia.

I grip her hair, tilting her head back as I deepen the kiss. The mewl that escapes her throat spurs me on, and my body moves closer to hers. I'm desperate to feel her beneath me. I want this woman at my mercy. 

And she is completely submissive to my needs. She shifts to her back, allowing me to move over her, and I can hardly believe I'm actually doing this. The very thing I said I was not going to do—kiss, date, or otherwise attempt to charm anyone, let alone a human. 

But nothing short of Cordelia herself could stop me right now. 

She wraps one leg around my waist, pulling me closer, her arousal evident through the satin material of her tiny pajama shorts. The feel of her pressing into me and rolling her hips drives me wild. I grip her thigh, matching the pace she sets. The friction isn't exactly what I need, but it is enough to sedate the thrumming in my cock. 

"Fuck," I breathe when she grinds against me in just the right way. My lips leave her mouth and find the delicate patch of skin below her ear. It takes everything in me not to slide down further and graze my teeth against her throat.

"Elias," she gasps, and I still completely, taking my mouth from her skin.

I back off, lifting myself off her on both palms. "I'm sorry, Cordelia," I say, my chest rising and falling with the intensity of the emotions running through me.