Returning to the center of the room, Rafe slowly unbuttoned his shirt under Philippe’s intense gaze. The vampire didn’t move a muscle, but the glow in his green eyes seemed to grow brighter in the dimly lit room. He pulled off his deep red shirt like a bullfighter waving his cape in front of a bull, allowing it to flutter to the floor.
As his hands dropped to his belt, his normally nimble fingers fumbled with the leather, struggling for a second. His heart rate sped up under the weight of Philippe’s gaze. It was as if phantom fingers danced along his flesh, caressing his pecs and teasing his nipples until they hardened in the cool air. He’d spent plenty of time naked with others. God, he’d sent endless, shameless selfies to his brothers of him with sleeping bed partners, but stripping before Philippe felt different. He was vulnerable and so damn alive.
Shoving the thought aside, Rafe forced his fingers to move. He pulled the belt from his pants with an almost angry snap and threw it to the floor. Attacking his pants, he pushed them down and kicked free. He slowed in his movements long enough to peel off his socks, and then his hands were at the waistband of his tight black boxer briefs. His cock was already pushing at the fabric, demanding to be set loose so that it could stretch toward Philippe and promised pleasure.
Placing a devilish smile on his lips, Rafe slowly lowered his briefs and stepped out of them. He stood on the thick rug, completely naked and open for Philippe’s perusal.
The other vampire didn’t move. Didn’t even seem to be breathing. His facial expression of intense concentration didn’t change.
Rafe fought to bring air into his lungs as he stood there under Philippe’s inspection. Time stood still. Anxiety started to crawl along his flesh, and it became increasingly difficult to not move, not speak. Why wasn’t Philippe saying anything? Was he disappointed? Before Rafe removed his clothes, Philippe had been so sure he was beautiful. Was he not what Philippe wanted?
He sucked in a breath to make some joke, to finally break the suffocating tension, when Philippe suddenly shoved to his feet. He crossed the room and came to stand only an inch away from Rafe. The heat from the vampire brushed almost kittenlike along his skin, and he fought back a whimper at even that small touch.
Tilting his head up, Philippe’s lips brushed against Rafe’s cheek. “Perfection,” he whispered.
Rafe’s eyes fell shut, and he hated the sigh of relief he couldn’t stop from rushing past his parted lips.
The heat shifted, and Rafe opened his eyes to find Philippe moving around him. Even if Rafe couldn’t see him, he could feel Philippe’s eyes sweeping over every inch of his body. His cock throbbed and ached, demanding attention, but Rafe didn’t budge an inch.
When Philippe was standing in front of him again, he pressed nuzzling kisses to his throat, the tip of his tongue coming out to swipe along that vein. It felt like a reward, and Rafe moaned at the increased contact.
“Perfection. As I suspected, every inch of you is beautiful,” Philippe continued in his haunting voice.
“Philippe…” Rafe panted. He needed more. Wanted to touch Philippe, to strip him bare so he could at least feel the decadent pleasure of his warm flesh against his own. But he’d handed the reins over to the clan leader, and it was driving him crazy. Tension thrummed along tight muscles and crackled in his nerve endings.
“Shhh, mon amour. Let me worship you.”
Philippe finally touched him, but the pressure was still insanely light as he slid his fingers up his arms and across his shoulders. Philippe began pressing one kiss after another along his collarbones and down his chest. He paused to tease one nipple, licking and nibbling until sparks of almost painful pleasure shot through his body, and then he moved to the other.
Fisting his hands at his sides was the only way to keep from grabbing Philippe and redirecting him to his aching cock. He closed his eyes and let each touch, each caress, sink into him. It did feel like he was being worshiped. If he blocked out the room, he could feel under his feet the pedestal Philippe placed him on.
Damp lips swept across his stomach and stroked the inside of his hip bone. Philippe rubbed his face against that soft flesh. He turned his head, and Rafe moaned at the breath gusting across the head of his cock. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, and the warm air chilled his flesh, teasing him.
Opening his eyes, he looked down to find Philippe on his knees in front of him, still fully dressed. A playful smile stretched across his handsome, upturned face.
“How many times have you been in a situation just like this?” Philippe teased. “But you were the one completely dressed and the supplicant at your knees, begging for your cock, was naked.”