A sharp pain shot through his lip, and Jasper Sherwood tasted blood.
Nina Donovan had bitten him.
He pulled back an inch, his breath washing over her cheek.
In the darkness, Nina's face flushed red. "Jasper Sherwood! Stop your drunken antics."
"You like biting people that much?" His voice was slightly hoarse as his tongue licked the spot that was still bleeding.
He let go of Nina, tossed his clothes and backpack on the floor, and yanked up his white t-shirt with one hand, revealing his lean, muscular torso.
He chuckled softly. "Go on. Bite me somewhere else."
Nina was stunned by his actions.
Before she could react, he was on her again, his breathing heavy, giving her no chance to escape.
She was on the verge of a breakdown.
'Is he fucking drunk or not?'
'Why is he so fixated on kissing me?'
In the late autumn chill of October,
Jasper Sherwood's skin was scorching hot against hers.
