Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked) by Karli Rush Page A

lengthen. I'm on the cusp of my first climax and I breathe his name out in a faulting whisper, “ Graham—”
    His hand releases my back and I feel my knees wilt. He places his fingertip beneath my fang and breathes back, “Suppress your urge. I don't think now is the time to reveal yourself.” Sorely they retract and his hand resumes his position. My instincts are going unhinged and I'm hanging on by a frail pin.
    I rest my head in the crook of his neck, smelling his scent. He teases with a constant refined touch. His strokes become varying and unvarying until my body trembles at just the right contact and he repeats the fluid motion. My fangs extend and I clasp on to him tightly. He builds the pressure inside me as if he's unifying the sweetest bliss. The rapture produces another quake through me and my teeth sink softly in my lower lip, muffling my own secluded moans of ecstasy.
    Just as ethereal as his poise, he straightens the lacey hem along my hip, and removes his hand. The red silk dress cascades downward and appears unrumpled. My half dazed eyes meet his . Clouded with so many emotions I'm not going to try to decipher them all. Not here, definitely not now. Right now, all I want to do is steal him away. Prolong the night with him in every position possible.
    “Let's go,” he whispers next to my ear.
    We tour to the front of the building and outside.
    I barely make it down the last few steps before I ask, “Why did you leave, Graham?”
    “I couldn't stay, I have to move around just as you do Mattie.” He reaches up and discards his mask. A shimmer of light reflects off his lighter as he holds it up.
    “Need a smoke?” 
    “No, are you trying to put another nail in my coffin?”
    “I would love to nail you Mattie, but I have to go.”
    “Go?! I thought we were just warming up.” He steps closer and lifts my chin up. I swear the air around us die s and it is only he and I standing. Deep unworldly eyes unravel me, bury me, and revive me all in a minuscule rift of time. I blink once and he's gone.
     
    *
     
    There's no way in hell I'm promenading back in the Cathedral, not like this. I rub the tenseness in my shoulders, and clutch my stomach. Not sure what to do with my current situation, itching for another cigarette, leaving me the only outlet other than attacking someone right here on the street. I'm hungry and aroused. Driving myself insane I suck so hard on my damn lip ring it's starting to split my lip. Cars park after dropping off more chumps and my gut twists like a jagged knife corkscrewing inside me.
    The nagging burden of hunger in me spawns my next action. If I can't have him, then someone will have to do. He can't leave me like this, wanting, needing more. I'm not looking for pillow talk. I just need to feel satisfied. Another white ultra-luxury car rolls next to the curb and I act before my brain can tally a vote whether this is something I should do. I'm seated next to a man.  
    His hand is fastened to the handle as his eyes stroll over me, a puzzling look is planted on his face. His mind weeding through his state of surprise when finally he says, “Do you need a ride somewhere?” 
    “Um..Yeah, to the H otel. Think you can handle that?”
    He signals the chauffeur to drive on and his undismayed eyes return back to mine. The night breeze mixes well with the smell of leather. The passenger roof is wide open and the stars shower the dark and somber sky.  I adjust myself in the lush seat, crossing my legs and glare at the champagne bottle. The thought of drinking harasses my maturing thirst, and there's nothing in the world that can knock off this behavior. Grinding my teeth together in a lame attempt to seem stable, I cast a forged smile.
    “I've had the pleasure in visiting the Cathedral on several occasions, but I have to say, I've never had an escort— Ahem...” He imitates a diverted cough, concealing a hidden grin. 
    “Hitch a ride?” I butt in on his ramblings while I