Page 103 of Blood Match

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Page 103 of Blood Match

A black tank top clings to his muscular chest, revealing more of him than I’ve ever seen before. My eyes trace the strong lines of his shoulders, down his bare arms that seem carved from marble. His skin isn’t the pale white I’d imagined, but a warm gold that makes me want to reach out and touch him.

My eyes drift lower, taking in the way his black jeans hug his lean hips and long, powerful thighs. He’s like a statue come to life, bold angles and perfect proportions. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

When I finally manage to drag my gaze back up to his face, I find his eyes locked on mine. The look in them is predatory, hungry, but not in the way I’ve come to expect from him. This hunger is different…and it sets my pulse racing.

I’m transfixed, unable to move or speak as his gaze holds me captive. Part of me wants to break this spell, to say something, do something. But a larger part is loving the way he’s looking at me like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“I need you.” Darick’s voice is throaty. He pauses after the words like he’s expecting me to say something…maybe to ask him to stop. But I don’t. My mouth is too dry. But that’s not the only reason.

I can’t take my eyes off him as he peels his tank top off over his head, revealing his sculpted chest. My breath catches. I’ve been with men before, but never anyone like this. He’s inhumanly beautiful.

Because he’s not human, Ro.

He’s more. So much more.

When he toes off his boots and reaches for the top of his jeans, I find myself watching him hungrily. This is another moment when I could ask him to leave – should ask him to leave – but I don’t. I want this.

God, how I want this.

My heart races as I take in every inch of his exposed skin. His shoulders are broad and rounded, leading to heavily muscled biceps. His chest and abs are exquisitely defined. There’s not an ounce of softness to him; every inch of him is smooth and hard and flawless. I lick my lips as my eyes trace the trail that leads from his navel down beneath the waistband of his jeans, drawing my gaze lower. The bulge there is…unnerving.

Oh, boy… I swallow hard.

As Darick’s fingers work at the button of his jeans, I feel a rush of heat flood through me, watching as he slowly lowers the zipper.

This is really happening.

A thrill of apprehension tightens my chest as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, ready to push them down.

Darick continues his slow strip, sliding his jeans down his legs to reveal muscled thighs and strong calves. And then—

Oh, my God!

My heart literally stops as I take in the sight of his thick, hard cock. He’s perfect all over. My cheeks burn, but somehow, I can’t bring myself to look away. Heat washes over me as I stare, my mouth hanging open.

You’re a grown woman, Rowan! Act like one.

Seeing a man this aroused…it should be scary or intimidating. But somehow, it isn’t.

I lick my lips as I raise my eyes to meet his, my heart hammering in my chest. At this point, there’s no doubt about what he wants from me, and despite the voice in the back of my mind, I know that I want it, too.

Darick must see the acceptance in my eyes because he growls low in his throat and takes a step forward. I don’t realize I’ve spread my thighs until I feel him standing between my splayed knees. My eyes flicker down to take in the way his impressive erection bobs between his legs as he moves.

Holy shit!

I’m not sure I’m up to the challenge of taking that monster. As if sensing my sudden uncertainty, Darick’s expression softens. He bends forward and tugs my sweatshirt off over my head, baring my torso. His eyes rake over my body, and I feel a shiver run through me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine. “You have no fucking idea.”

I open my mouth to respond, to try to explain just how flustered and turned on I am, but he cuts me off by climbing onto the bed and sinking between my thighs. I gasp at the feeling of his hardness pressing against my core, even through the barrier of my sweatpants.

“Too many clothes,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he savors the sensation. “Definitely getting in the way.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply. I moan into the kiss as he slides a hand beneath my back to pull me closer. There’s something almost reverent about the way he kisses me, as if he’s committing my taste and touch to memory.

I wrap my arms around him, eagerly returning the kiss, my fingers combing through his hair. His lips are insistent yet gentle, and his tongue strokes mine in a silent entreaty for entrance. My body seems to melt against his, limbs entwining, fingers threading through hair, my back arching.

As the kiss deepens, I feel Darick shift his weight, pressing me into the mattress. Despite my body’s heated response, my brain kicks in with a warning. There are things we haven’t talked about, like protection, or birth control, or even—




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