From Protector of the Grey House:
“Don’t. Until you can sustain the damage I am capable of, do not bite my jugular.” His words growled past her face, a chill wind threatening her cheeks.
“I thought to deter your passion until we arrived home.” Her voice was too innocent as was her look.
“Tell me another, weaver of tales.” He growled into her neck, to chill her jugular. She shivered in anticipation, and desired his bite. She cried out in frustration when he pulled away and sat back down on the seat. She glowered at him as she propped herself up on her arms.
“Which is it, Vincent? You act as if you’re going to ravish me despite my predilections against it at this time. Then warn me against enticing you.”
He gave her a hyena smile from his seat. She shivered: prey caught in a predator’s lair. “I plan on worshipping you, love, but I still would prefer waiting until we were in our bedroom, as there is more space.”