Allen Rivera gently caressed the spot he had just bitten, his fingertips slightly rough, rubbing slowly and deliberately.
Her slender white neck, tender skin, adorned with tiny red marks, evoked thoughts of infinite allure.
"Do you like me?" he asked again, his voice very low, almost a whisper.
Jane McCain bit her lip and looked at him, barely audible, she murmured "yes", her cheeks already flushed.
His fingertips moved downward, from her neck, gliding over her collarbone, landing on her chest.
There, the heartbeat thudded wildly, erratically.
She took small breaths, her whole body tensed, only feeling that if she didn't restrain herself, that heart, beating faster and faster, would leap out of her chest and into his palm at any moment!
His eyes held a hint of laughter, half coaxing, half questioning, "How much do you like me?"
How much do you like me?
...A lot, tremendously, to the point of dying, wanting to give you everything, all of it, even my life!
