Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

Then he breaks away suddenly and stands holding me with
his eyes closed and his chest heaving, the hand he’s got fisted
in my hair not relaxing its tight grip even an inch.
When he exhales, it’s a groan.
I want to groan, too, but I’m incapable of coherent thought
at the moment.
I’ve never, ever been kissed like that.
I had no idea what I’d been missing.
He slides a hand down my waist to my hip, which he
squeezes. Then he slides the hand from my hip to my ass and
takes a handful, squeezing that, too. He pulls me even closer,
so our pelvises are pressed together, so I feel every inch of his
arousal.
Breathing hard, he puts his mouth against my ear. “Fuck
going out. I need to eat you for dinner tonight.”
Probably because I’m so dizzy, I start to laugh. “Oh, no,
Romeo. You don’t get to skip the wining-and-dining part of
this courtship. You’ll have to buy me an expensive dinner or
two before you even get to second base. In case you haven’t
noticed, I’m old-fashioned.”
He bites my neck.
It isn’t hard, but it makes me gasp anyway. Then he gentles
the bite with a soft kiss, nuzzling my throat while making a
rumbling noise very close to a purr.
His lips are like velvet. His tongue is exquisitely warm and
soft. The scratch of his rough beard against my skin gives me
goose bumps all over. I shiver, feeling burning hot and icy
cold and so very alive.
He finds my mouth again, fitting his lips over mine. This
time, the kiss is gentler, but no less passionate.
There’s a surprising depth of emotion in the way he kisses.
In the way he holds me against his body, as if he doesn’t ever
want to let me go.