He was already too hungry as it was.

Shut up, I thought savagely. I didn’t want one of Louis-Cesare’s random memories intruding, especially not of some other woman. Not here, not now. This was mine.

I deliberately slipped, falling backward onto the bed and dragging him down on top of me. “Dorina—”

“You’re breathing heavy.”

“Vampires don’t breathe.”

I pressed up against him, and his breath caught in his throat. “Guess you’re right,” I said, and flipped him.

The high slit made it easy to straddle him. So I did, before running my hands down to the waist of his trousers again, and tugging his shirt loose. I liked the way his hands clenched on my arms as I unfastened his belt, the delightful tensing as my fingers slipped just inside his trousers.

He did nothing to help me, his own hands curved around my waist, softly stroking my skin through the silk. But he didn’t stop me, either. My hands smoothed around his hips, my fingers finding the dimples at the base of his spine.

They were a frivolous feature on such a body, like that overabundant fall of hair that he took such pains to keep in check, or the absurdly long lashes on that strong-boned face. It was as if his body had somehow known that the man was going to be a pile of contradictions, and had woven them into him, skin and bone and flesh. I stroked the small indentations lightly, feeling the muscles tighten underneath my tender exploration, before moving on.

A sweep of sinfully rich lashes against moon pale skin.

A coy look, a flash of white teeth, as she slowly backed

down his body. He needed to end this. But she was touching

him, and it felt so good, just this, even this. More was

going to kill him, and he wanted it, fiercely.

Louis-Cesare stared as if mesmerized as I slowly bent lower, close enough that he could feel my warm breath on him, yet he still didn’t move, didn’t try to stop me. I decided that was as much of an invitation as I was likely to get. The dark tailored slacks were skin-warm under my lips as I bent forward, mouthing the soft material and the hardness just beneath.

He wasn’t wearing anything under those trousers, and the wool was so fine that it felt like silk, more an enticement than a barrier. I outlined him with my tongue for a moment, watching with a kind of fascination as the trousers tightened impressively. It was an addictive kind of power, knowing I was doing this to him, shaping his body the way I wanted. I gave the tiniest of bites, and he made a sharp, startled sound and jumped against my lips.

“Dorina.” He sounded a little strangled.

“Don’t rush me,” I admonished. “You had your turn.”

He breathed in sharply. “I was trying to relax you!”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” I asked, amused.

“Yes!”

“All right.” I let him have the lie. “Now shut up and let me return the favor.”

I wanted to torment him some more, but he was so teasingly close. My throat ached with wanting him; my tongue craved the intimacy of flesh. I slowly pulled down the zipper and peeled back the smooth material, freeing him. The sound he made as the cool air hit him was almost unbearably sensual. But not as much as the sight of him, thick and long and straight and perfect.

He was near enough for his scent to fill my senses, a deep, rich musk that made me lean in, suddenly hungry. Pure silk slid against my cheek. I sighed across him, watching him leap helplessly.

The seconds dripped like honey as she leaned closer, her thumbs settling against his hip bones, and he had all the time in the world to move away. But he didn’t. He was too busy watching her eyes go dreamy and half-closed, the usual smirk fading and becoming something softer, something just for him.

I ran my tongue over my lips, and he immediately went from tense to rigid. I glanced up and saw that his eyes had turned the color of polished silver, and I hadn’t even touched him yet. I decided it was time to rectify that. One hand slowly caressed his hip, while the other dragged across warm skin to wrap around him.

A faint flush darkened his cheeks, his breath caught and his pulse went from quick to frantic. I could feel it under my hand, a rapid staccato beat that seemed to follow my slowly gliding fingers. Like the blush of his skin, rose and gold, ebbing and flowing as I willed it.

I knew what he wanted, what his body craved, and I deliberately didn’t give it to him. I teased him instead with light butterfly touches, too gentle, too slow, until his thighs were granite and his hands were fisting at his sides. He was beautiful like this. The Senate’s greatest warrior, helpless in my hands.

Ray was safely away by now, but I didn’t care. I wanted to see Louis-Cesare lose control for once, wanted to watch the tension in those proud features drain away, wanted to remember this. Dangerous game, a disconnected voice murmured in the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside. He jumped again, and this time, I caught him with my mouth.

A long, shuddering breath rushed past tight lips, and his head fell back.

One of my hands curved around his taut backside, the other circled warm satin, as the smooth solidity of him slid against my tongue. He was firm and slightly resistant, warm, with faint traces of salt and Louis-Cesare. Delicious.

My tongue slowly circled the tip, caressing him softly, letting him squirm. I flicked the sweet spot once, twice with the end of my tongue, then ran it up the side. My hand wandered backward, tracing a featherlight path to the velvet globes contracted high against his body. I teased and tormented, stroked and fondled, while my tongue swirled languidly around him.

Flashes of intense sensation seared up his spine and coiled in his belly, regular as clockwork and then deliberately arrhythmic as she modified her stroke to torture him anew. He shivered at the slight, purposeful rake of teeth, the edge of danger driving his need higher. Dieu, a man could die from this, die and not care….

His thoughts leaked through in pieces, and I wasn’t worried about them being memories, not anymore. They were too in tune with the expressions flitting across that changeable face. We’d shared something like this before, some emotional connection I didn’t understand, almost like the mind-speak of the vampires. Only I’d never been able to do that with anyone else.

Normally it would have intrigued me, but right now I wasn’t too concerned.

I swallowed, abruptly taking him deep, my lips stretched tight around the width of him. His hips jerked up reflexively, trying not to thrust, trying to stay in control when he so clearly wasn’t. I hummed deliberately, wanting to see how crazy I could drive him, and I was rewarded with a groan that sent my own pulse racing.

Pulling back, I let him go with maddening slowness, allowing him to feel the drag of my tongue along his whole length. I paused for a long moment, with just the tip of him under my lips, reveling in the feel of the tremors that rippled under my hands. I let the anticipation build, caressing him softly with just the tip of my tongue.

“Dorina, please—” It sounded strangely like a prayer.

I let him squirm for a few moments longer. It felt so damn good to hear him begging in whispers and moans when I was the one getting what I wanted. And then, with no warning, I suddenly slid all the way back down.

The sound he made that time was really quite satisfying.

My head bobbed a few times, until I found a dreamy sort of rhythm, drinking in the soft sounds he made. And everything seemed to affect him. The soft brush of my hair against his thigh brought on a shudder, the feel of my teeth, scraping oh so carefully along his length, made him groan, the sight of me completely embracing him turned his eyes wild.

And then I wasn’t able to think anymore, my own need spiraling up to envelop me. I heard when he finally broke, when he cried out my name, when he gripped the bed frame hard enough to crack it. But it was distant.