Sexy Satisfaction Sunday Snog from The Point of Evil.

Steve—who had been a womanizer in life and was even more so in death—prowls the Point using his vampiric wiles to get the blood and sex he craves. He’s always looking for his next meal and when he sees a tall, curvy beauty with a red scarf around her neck, he thinks he’s found it.

Eloise is different—she’s shy and needs encouragement, and Steve just can’t get her out of his mind. He has to take his time, get to know her and slowly seduce her. When she disappears, leaving only a note begging him not to pursue her further, he can’t help himself and ends up in the service of George Aquino, a vampire crime boss with a penchant for twisted and cruel torture and a dungeon full of prisoners.

A daring rescue, a difficult choice and love against the odds. Do you dare visit the point of evil?

Reader Advisory: This book contains violence and references to rape and sexual assault.

I settled myself between her thighs again and we kissed some more. I’d never kissed a woman so much in my life but her lips were ripe and juicy and tasted like soft summer fruits and silky cream. I couldn’t get enough.

“My sweet, I know you don’t want me to, but I need to take your scarf off now.”

“No, no, no, that stays on—it has to stay on,” she babbled.

“Okay, no worries, but, Eloise, how am I meant to drink from you if your jugular is covered?”

She panted, stroked her hand down my arm and gulped.

“I’m sure there’s other veins you could find. There is—isn’t there?”

“Yeah, I’ll work it out.” I grinned. “But I’m sure you have a perfectly beautiful neck, darling. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

“No, I do, I really do.” She sighed. She was pulling away from me again—not physically, but emotionally—and I needed to make her comfortable once more if I wanted to continue to the climax I longed for.

“Okay, I think I’ve figured out a way to make this work.” I dipped my lips to her chest, peppered kisses down over her breast, her breastbone and zigzagged across her soft stomach and down to her thighs. I felt the blood rushing there, a strong pumping throb even stronger than the beat of a jugular vein. I pulled myself away from the pull of my bloodlust and after a few seconds to compose myself, I concentrated on the sensual attraction of her body.

I honed in on the feminine scent of her, traced the musky aroma until my lips sat on the line between her thigh and her pubis. I waited, my lips tickled by the short, black hair until she moved, a soft undulation of her hips that indicated her want.

I lifted up and gently parted her intimate lips with my tongue. She was sweet and fresh, like melon and lychees, and in response to her deep-throated moan I lapped more eagerly. A moment later I hit the soft mound of her clit and her moans increased in volume. Completely consumed in my one aim—to make her come—I parted her creamy thighs with my hands so I could reach more of her.

She thrashed against me, smearing her juices across my cheeks and nose. I’m not worried that I’m buried so deep within her—I don’t really have to breathe, another advantage of this vampirism. I focused on finding the rhythm she enjoyed the most, poised for the moment of orgasm, aware of the beating throb of the vein I would use to sate myself when the moment came.

She gripped my head tightly, grabbing at my short, coarse hair. Her hips bounced, her thighs shuddered and a great roar escaped from between her lips. With lightening quick reflexes, I hit her vein. Counting automatically, I moved my hand to her pussy, pressed against her clit to help the moment last. I wanted to feel connected to her pleasure as well as her blood.

At ten I retracted, reluctantly. People taste essentially the same. Blood is blood—there are nuances, of course, and vampires who’ve been around the block a time or two can start to sound like fine wine connoisseurs, comparing the chocolatey notes of O negative to the deep grape of AB positive. I’ve never got it, really. Sure, Gracie is my favourite meal—her blood is more satisfying to me than others—but Eloise has a taste all her own. It made me drunk. I felt like Superman, like her essence was the exact recipe I needed. It was like eating my favourite human foods but magnified by a hundred times when I drank from Eloise. I was full at ten. Usually I’m still hungry and tempted to drink more just to sate the hunger, but with Eloise I wanted to gorge on her simply because she tasted so good.

I lapped at the bite marks until they healed up, shook my head and climbed to my knees.

“Told you I’d work something out.” I smiled.

Her eyes fluttered opened and she caught me in the piercing blue gaze. The smile covered her face from her eyes to her lips and back again. She was happy, I realised, and I’m not sure I’d seen her happy before.

“Are you… Are you satisfied now?” she stuttered.

“Well, I’ve drunk my fill, if that’s what you’re asking.” I leant down to kiss her. God, her lips were intoxicating.

“No, I mean…sexually.” She gulped. “I mean, I can feel you—you’re still hard.”

And I was. It was quite a revelation. Normally when I’d fed, as soon as the woman’s orgasm was over and I’d drunk, I was done whether I’d actually climaxed or not. I was still hungry for more—my cock strained towards her. I wanted her still, even though my bloodlust was under control.

“I still need sexual satisfaction.” I sighed, pressed my hips down and pushed my hardness down against her pubis.

“Fuck me then.” She shocked me by raising her legs and trapping me with them. I laughed with genuine delight and wiggled myself into position.

“Okay, I’m not going to deny a beautiful lady what she wants,” I purred.

“I need it,” she gasped as I pushed into her. “I need you, Steve.”

The intensity of desire overwhelmed me. I’d never felt so connected before. I’d never had a woman beg me so beautifully. Usually I took what pleasure I wanted with very little thought to the desires of that woman, but with Eloise, I was her slave. I’d have done anything to please her.