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"Well...if you want me to do exactly what I did..." Curry shifted a little closer to her, gently tilting her head upwards so she could look him in the eye. "I would have to start like this."
He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, gently at first. He wanted her to show him that she truly wanted this. He didn't want to do anything that would be considered against her will, even if she was already buzzed from her drink. Thus he paid careful attention to her physical reactions more so than anything else. |
Like the first time, she jumped a bit, it was still a new thing to be so close to someone, let alone intimate with someone she considered an enemy. The tension didn’t last longer than a few seconds though, and her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back, even pushing it farther as she nipped on his lower lip playfully.
If Elizabeth told Marcus that she actually brought Curry upstairs to make out and then drink from her, he’d have thought she’d had a lot more than just a couple sips from her bottle, and accuse her of being on heavier drugs. |
Curry did not hesitate to deepen the kiss once he felt her nibbling at his bottom lip--it was obvious that he put some degree of passion behind it when he deepened it. He'd kissed many people in his lifetime. One good thing he'd gotten from all that practice was...well...a great degree of skill.
He was good in bed. Very good...he'd had multiple partners, both male and female, all throughout his life. |
She didn't break the kiss, not about to rush him through this, not when it was so enjoyable. Then again that was what she expected, vampires were suppose to be amazing when it came to intimacy, and she expected to be this enthralled by such a simple kiss. Carefully, not desiring to trip and get a concussion, she pulled him back so she could lay on the bed beneath him.
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Curry hesitated when she started pulling him back towards the bed, but he did not fight her when she pulled him down. He only adjusted his position and settled down once he was comfortable. Honestly, it had been a while since he'd done much of anything at all with a woman--he was so used to bringing home men. So, he was in fact a little bit rusty.
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Feeling as if she could simply make out with him for hours, she forced her mind to focus some, to fight against the effect just enough to control herself to do more than just lay there and drowned in one kiss. Suddenly, thinking made her feel awkward, at a disadvantage. Her arms released his neg, fingers tangling with the bottom of his shirt before pulling up on it, breaking the kiss only long enough to tug it over his head and toss it on the floor before pulling him back to her. For some reason, wearing less than she was made her feel like she had some sort of upper hand in the situation, though in reality, she knew that if he decided he wanted to kill her, there would be little she could do to stop him. So she simply went back to focusing on his kiss, fingers trailing over his stomach, chest, tracing the tattoos.
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