A small shift forward and my lips found his neck. Kisten exhaled slowly. Enjoying being able to pull such a response from him, I explored, finding new reactions from old scars.

I should have done this before, I thought, hooking one foot behind his leg and pulling him closer. As soon as I got home, I would have to see what Cormel's guide to dating vampires said about this.

My arms dropped to encircle Kisten's neck lightly as he let go of my hands, and a sliver of thrill hit when he moved us into the unlit hallway. My back went up against the thin paneling with a thump, and he slid my camisole strap down my shoulder, bending to kiss the newly exposed, flawless skin that I knew was irresistible to vampires. The smoothness of his capped teeth across my unmarked skin sent a tremor through me. If his phone rang, I was going to kill somebody.

My eyes slipped shut in pure enjoyment, and I worked by feel to undo the buttons of his shirt. Jazz played, and the sound of a boat echoed over the flat water. I couldn't get the last of the buttons—Kisten kept nipping at my skin to send jolts that didn't have the chance to ebb before he added to them. Giving up, I gripped his shirt and pulled until the buttons snapped.

Kisten mmm'ed in annoyance. He shifted his weight, pinning me. Eyes flashing open, I reached for his belt. "Give me what I want," I whispered, feeling my new teeth. "And I won't have to get rough, vamp boy."

"That's my line," he said, his voice carrying a new edge to it.

The words were laced with blood hunger, and fear lanced through me, quickly stifled. Kisten's hands hesitated for an instant, to regain control, and then he continued. His restraint far stronger than mine, he took my shoulders, holding me unmoving as he found the base of my neck, wanting my blood but not taking it as he worked my old scar.

"Oh, God," I breathed. Unable to stop, I hoisted myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist and tightening my grip on his neck. He shifted again, adjusting for my weight. I could feel him heavy through his slacks, and my pulse quickened. Sensing it, his touch became aggressive, and silver threads of anticipation tightened to a hard ball in the pit of my being. This wasn't good. It was too much. I wasn't thinking anymore. It was too damn good.

I clutched at him, wanting the rush of feeling of his teeth sink into me. If he knew how badly, he might ask, and I wouldn't be able to say no. Ivy will kill him.

As if sensing my confusion, his lips became gentle, tracing a cool-warm sensation from the base of my neck to rise slowly to behind my ear, where he stayed, pulling with a gentle pressure—hinting at more. "Can you stay through the morning?" he asked.

"Mmmm," I managed, making sure my willingness was obvious by sending my nails to trace the back of his neck.

"Good." Carrying me, he headed down the hall to the night-darkened bedroom. The lights from Cincinnati were a soft glow reflecting off the water, and I spared a thought that I wasn't going to have the chance to wear that teddy. At least not tonight. His bed was under the bank of windows, but he set me atop the dresser, my legs still wrapped around him.

I was at an excellent height that lent itself to all sorts of possibilities— and feeling surged when his hand sketched a heavy path to my breast, his thumb teasingly caressing. Kisten's lips left me, and with a deliberate slowness, he pulled back. The motions of his fingers against me stopped. Almost panting, I met his eyes.

They were black with a familiar, collected blood lust, glinting in the reflected light. Adrenaline zinged through me to mix anticipation and fear. Something was changing—I had become more with my sharp teeth. They weren't just bits of bone, they were a source of power, giving me control over him through the sensations I could invoke. And Kisten knew it; that had been his intention in giving them to me. With his teeth capped and mine sharp, he had elevated me above him. The thought was a definite turn-on for both of us.

Eyes never leaving mine, he took my hand that had slipped between his open shirt and his back. He breathed deeply of my wrist, lids closing as he scented my blood. "You smell like my two favorite people all mixed up."

His words sent a tremor rippling through me. Ivy's scent coated me, a soft memory of what they once had. The two of them had banded together in their vulnerable youth to survive, and I knew he missed their past closeness. He ached with his need to find it again. His pain pulled on me, making me want to give him what he needed, soothing both his body and mind. I wasn't coming in second behind Ivy but first; I could give him something she couldn't—everything he had found with Ivy, but ignorant of what Piscary had put them both through. I knew that was why Ivy had left him. She couldn't live with the reminder.

The draw to submit and give him everything strengthened, and when he felt me lean into him, his grip tightened. Body meeting his suggestively, I pulled his scent deep into me. It swirled through my body, the pheromones flipping switches until I ached with need. My hands slipped to his back, feeling the tension there and wanting so badly to get lost in him. I exhaled, my breath shaking. "Do me here," I whispered.

Tilting his head, Kisten held my shoulders and kissed my lower neck, gently, hesitantly, as if he had never touched me before. I lost my breath at the rush of feeling, the burning tracings of desire settling deep and low. I exhaled into it, calling it to me. The pause to gather our breath was over. Oh, God. I have to do something.

Fingers fumbling, I reached for his slacks. The top button was undone, and I unzipped them, pushing them down enough to give him freedom. His hands were at my lower back, and I clasped my arms around his neck, lowering myself off the dresser so he could pull my jeans down. My feet touched the floor long enough to shake off first one pant leg, then the other.

Impatient, I tightened my grip around his neck, lifting myself back up against him until I was on the dresser again. His hands ran over my curves to my waist, then higher. A groan of anticipation slipped from me when he bowed his head. Massaging my breast with one hand and sending his lips over the other, he tugged and teased—the hint of teeth telling me what he could do if I let him, almost promising.

If he hadn't had his caps, he would have bitten me. Adrenaline flashed deep, and I sent my hands down to find his taut, smooth skin. His motion against me grew rougher, and I responded. With a sharp tug, he leaned to find the base of my neck with his lips, his repressed need making him savage.

Feeling poured from my scar. I would have collapsed if he hadn't held me. My heart pounded as he eased up, and I could breathe again. Beneath my moving fingers, he was smooth and warm, a shocking contrast to his rough touch on my neck. His breathing deepened, and his teeth teased the skin about my scar, leaving me aching for him to find me fully. I squeezed my eyes shut, sensing the hint of coming ecstasy. I gasped, startled when he gave up his teasing and bit me without breaking the skin, hard and strong. Only his capped teeth stopped him.

Tension spiked through me, and I moaned. It hit Kisten like fear.

His fingers gripping my shoulders tightened. With a vamp quickness, he jerked me closer. I gasped again. Then, with my arms again about his neck, I shifted my body to make it easier for him, leaving the dresser entirely. He slid into me with an exquisite slowness that replaced reason with desperate need. I took a faltering breath. Lips parting, I brought the scent of him deep into me as he filled my mind and body both.

With him supporting my weight, we moved together. My arms were about his neck to keep myself to him, and I realized that apart from the obvious, I couldn't touch him with anything but my lips. The self-imposed restraint hit me, and with a frustrated desperation I went for his neck, tracing old scars and feeling a want grow headier with each shift of weight.