Sex in a Coffin (Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist) by Lynda Hilburn Page A

situations I do, but just this once feel free to... holy shit !” A blast of heat spread from the epicenter of my nipple and morphed into the beginnings of an intense, whole-body orgasm, slamming through me like a carnal tidal wave, dragging me under a sea of ecstasy. I literally vibrated as my pleasure centers overflowed and my libido danced the cha cha.
    During the ecstatic onslaught, I’d apparently closed my eyes. When the body rush subsided, and I could breathe again, I forced my lids open and looked down, expecting to find a blond head attached to my breast. All I saw was bare skin and rigid, red nipples. I turned my gaze toward my coffin companion, who once again rested on his side, watching me, a dazzling smile on his god-like face. “It would appear that my vampire talents have met with your approval.”
    “Wow.” I swallowed and eased my tongue over dry lips. “Amazing. Approval’s an understatement. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
    “I am glad I have impressed you.” He grinned, not bothering with false modesty.
    “You know you always impress me. Being able to move so fast you can touch my entire body simultaneously – that’s quite a skill.”
    “I did not move.” He shrugged. “In fact, I did not touch you at all after you gave permission for me to use mind control.”
    “You didn’t touch me?” I stared at him for a few seconds. “You mean the cosmic orgasm was only in my mind?”
    “No. It was real, physically, but it originated in my mind.” His lips curved. “Besides, you are the one who frequently insists that the human psyche cannot distinguish between something real and something imagined . You often bemoan the fact that mortals ignore the most powerful tool for healing and transformation available to them. I would say you proved your own point.”
    “Hmmm. Toe-curling orgasms as a path to enlightenment. What a great idea for a book. Of course, I’d have to leave out the vampire partner part, but I can see people lining up for my sold-out workshops. Who wouldn’t want to blend sex and higher consciousness?”
    He trailed his finger down my cleavage. “I hate to precipitate upon your erotic procession, so to speak, but I believe sexuality as a path to spiritual enlightenment has existed for a very long time.”
    “Precipitate upon my erotic procession? Wha . . ?” I laughed, realizing what he meant to say. “Oh, you mean rain on my sex parade.”
    “Yes.” He nodded and gave a slow blink of his blue-green, gemstone eyes, then raised his chin. “Why are you laughing?” he asked in a frosty tone. “I see nothing amusing about my manner of speaking, yet you frequently mock me.”
    Uh-oh.
    “Devereux.” I angled onto my side and snuggled against him, meeting his suspicious gaze. I skimmed my lips across his. “I wasn’t mocking you. Sincerely. I think your unique language patterns are charming. Very old-world. However, it wouldn’t hurt you to spend more time with... individuals... who are from this century and this country.” He never let me forget he was an 800-year-old European, obsessively attached to his roots. “Isn’t it necessary for you to be familiar with contemporary slang in order to do business?”
    Another slow blink. “I have employees who handle those mundane details.”
    “Uh-huh. I think you’re just being stubborn. Refusing to give up one of your cherished eccentricities, er, idiosyncrasies, uh, I mean delightful characteristics.” I grinned. “Maybe even acting a little superior and snobbish.” He gave me a narrow-eyed glare. I laughed and stroked my hand along his jaw. “Don’t even waste one of those vampiric-master-of-the-universe eyeball locks on me. I know you too well to be intimidated by your mood shifts.”
    He arched a brow, insulted. “My mood shifts?”
    “As if you didn’t know. You have the ability to switch from being a perfect gentleman of Zen-like tranquility and reason into an enraged, fang-baring, undead