Afterlight - Elle Jasper [105]
His eyes and voice gentled. “You should be.”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” I said, sounding like a child. “I guess rule following and good-choice making aren’t in my nature, either.”
Eli moved closer, his eyes locked onto mine. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about that night. Both nights.”
“Oh, I get it,” I said, and sank into the plush cushion of the seat in the picture window. Whether mortal or vampire, both male species are led around by their peckers, it seemed. “So it’s the sex you’re obsessed with?”
“It’s sex with you,” Eli clarified, and stepped closer to me. “With just you.” His body closed in on me as he leaned against the wall next to me. Still, he didn’t touch me, but I felt my will busting up. “It’s the way you move, the sound of your voice,” he said, his voice dark, seductive. “The way you thought about me that night, about what you wanted me to do to you, and how you touched yourself. The way you smell—not your perfume, or the shampoo you use,” he said, lifting a long strand of my hair to his nose and inhaling. “You.” He shoved his hands into his hair with frustration. “I’ve watched you, Riley—even before we met. You . . . intrigued me, and I found myself at your window, inside your room.” His eyes searched mine. “It’s about you.”
“You watched me from inside my room?” I asked, my voice shaky, quiet. The thought thrilled me. “Why?”
“You intrigued me,” he said, his body brushing mine. “Because I had to.”
Already, my heart was beating faster, and I struggled to breathe normally. I couldn’t stop staring at the muscles in his chest, the way his abs were cut, and his face; the shadows had grown long, and the room was nearly cast in darkness, yet there was just enough surreal light to make out his features. His pitch-black hair hung across his forehead and luminescent blue eyes, and when he spoke, his lips fascinated me; they were full, perfectly shaped, and the memory of them against my skin made me burn for him all over again. His jaw, dusted with just a shade of growth, made his pale skin flawless and sensual. My fingers itched to touch him. My heart yearned for him. My brain had turned to gravy.
Without taking his eyes off me, Eli drew closer, grasped my hand and placed it over his heart. “Again, I ask. What do you feel when you touch me?”
My eyes closed as his hand covered mine and pressed it against his chest. “I feel . . . a sensual energy that I can’t get enough of, that lingers on my skin, inside of me, and drives me crazy,” I said quietly, my chest rising and falling faster with my ragged breathing. I looked at him. “An obsession. I feel you.”
Eli slid even closer and pressed his palm over mine. “But no heartbeat.”
I rose, slipped my hands over Eli’s hips, and guided him onto the cushion I’d just vacated. Grasping his neck, I climbed onto his lap, my leather dress riding up as I slid my legs on either side of him and locked them behind his back. He sat silent, completely still, and I knew that if he did have a heart that beat, it’d be pounding like crazy right now. His hands slid to my hips as his eyes searched mine.
I palmed his chest and brought my lips closer to his. “My heart beats enough for the both of us,” I whispered against his mouth. “Just don’t . . . kill me, okay?” I shoved my hands into his silky