“What the hell are you doing?” Serge’s vampire blood ran cold—no, hot.
“Oh hello.” Philippe gestured toward the tub. “I…I’m running a bath for you.”
Serge stared. He couldn’t help it. The steam from the hot water had made a delicate sheen of moisture on every inch of Philippe’s tanned body, emphasizing to perfection his sloping thigh muscles, beautifully carved abs and chest, as well as his thick, hard, veined…
Once again, the wild urge to sink his incisors into Philippe’s smooth neck assaulted him, followed by the desire to run his tongue over those muscles, gather the salty moisture that beaded on them. To feel the plump head of Philippe’s c**k—full and hard at attention, jutting from a thatch of dark blond springy hair—touch the back of his throat, to taste the smooth shaft against t
