Shadow Touched: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (A Touch of Vampire Book 1) by Becky Moynihan (great reads TXT) 📕

that people want you dead.” I laughed lightly, but watched his expression like a hawk. Argh! Still nothing. When he chose to stare at me instead of respond, I reached down and pinched my thigh.

“What’s wrong?”

I blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“Your leg. You’re pinching it. You do that when something’s bothering you.”

“I . . . what? How do you even—” I spluttered, completely caught off guard. Huffing, I crossed my arms. “It’s been a stressful twenty-four hours. A lot is bothering me.”

He shook his head and stepped into the kitchen. The room immediately felt smaller and I resisted the urge to pinch my thigh again. “No, this is different. Your stress has something to do with me.”

My heart jumped into my throat.

“There, see?” he said before I could deny it. “You’re nervous.”

I released a breathless laugh, further cementing his point. “I—it’s because you’re doing that eye thing.” Why the crap did I say that?

“What eye thing?” He took another step.

“You know, where you try to read my thoughts with your eyes,” I blurted, unable to shut up. My backside hit the table, reminding me that I had no room for escape.

“I can’t read thoughts,” he said, his voice sliding into dangerous sexy territory, “but I can sense your mood changes and emotions. Hear your thundering heartbeats.” Every cell in my body sprang awake as he stepped into my personal space, saying quietly, “Smell the blood racing through your veins.”

“Lochlan,” I warned, albeit breathlessly. He was way too close, and my body was going haywire. I uncrossed my arms and gripped the table’s edge, hoping he couldn’t detect my reaction to his nearness.

But I knew the jig was up when he slowly bent to breathe me in. My heart pounded fiercely and his eyes shot up to mine. “You feel desire, but also genuine fear. Why? What has caused you to fear me?”

Horrified, I tried to look away, but he grasped the nape of my neck, angling my face toward his. I jumped at the contact, eyes widening as I waited for something awful to happen. When nothing did, I focused on his hand, realizing he’d touched the collar of my shirt, not my skin. Still, I felt no relief. Not when Lochlan’s gaze demanded an answer.

“S-stop,” I stammered, as the need to answer him grew with each passing second. He was using thrall on me, and it was working this time. “Don’t . . . don’t m-make me.”

“Then just tell me,” he said, his voice rumbling through my insides. “Tell me why you’re afraid.”

“Because . . .” My nails dug into the table as I tried to withhold the words. But they were slipping, slipping from my control. I had no choice. I had to speak. The words were yanked from me against my will, and I burst out, “Because you want to kill me.”

I bit my tongue, but it was too late. The damage had already been done. Anger that he’d forced me to speak and fear for how he’d react charged through me. I bit down harder until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

Lochlan’s gaze shot to my lips, sending another jolt of fear through me. I swallowed and he tracked the movement. As panic set in, he flicked his eyes up to mine again. “You believe I want to kill you?”

I pursed my lips, expecting him to pry the answer out of me again. Surprised when the pull never came, I decided to answer honestly anyway. “You said you didn’t want me dead yet. That means you want me dead at some point. So just do it already. Rip my head off or something. But if you take your time, I won’t go quietly. I’ll—”

I gasped when he suddenly pushed himself against me. The table scraped across the floor and struck the wall from the impact. Still grasping the nape of my neck, he leaned forward and rested a hand on the tabletop. The position bent me backward, leaving my lower half pinned against his.

Every drop of air fled my lungs at the contact. He aligned his pelvis with mine, slowly forcing my thighs apart. I was too overcome with shock to make a sound.

His hardness pulsed against me through our clothing. My body immediately throbbed in response, excited at the foreign new feeling. My shirt rode up, allowing his jeans to rub against my lacy underwear.

He brought his head low, low enough to whisper scant inches from my ear, “Does this feel like a man who wants to kill you?”

Struck speechless, unable to do anything but tremble as heat surged through me, I whimpered breathlessly.

He slowly ground his pelvis against mine and my eyes rolled back. I moaned as the length of zipper on his jeans created the most delicious friction. I immediately wanted more, craving the intimate connection yet needing it to stop at the same time. I couldn’t think properly, couldn’t remember why this was a bad idea. Why I didn’t want this.

“Why,” I panted, sucking in a gasp when he relentlessly rocked against me. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” he replied huskily, continuing to rock. “Because you want me to. Because I can’t stop thinking about touching you. I want to touch you in every way possible. Especially your skin. I want to know what it feels like. What you feel like.”

His words only inflamed the friction between us. A visceral need swelled inside me. I released the table and dug my fingers into his back. A pleased growl rumbled in his chest and he increased the pace, until I was lost, utterly lost to the sensations lifting me higher and higher. Nothing else mattered but finding that highest peak, and I was close. I could feel it, a destination I had to reach at all costs.

When I finally reached the top, my entire body stiffened as pleasure blasted through me. I fisted Lochlan’s shirt and screamed, shooting so high that I saw stars. Soon after, the sound of