hand in her hair, pulling her head to the side hard. Eyes riveted to her neck, he rubbed his tongue on his fang, then rasped, 'I can see your beautiful pulse.'
Stifling a cry, she said, 'You're hurting me, Conrad.' Try to sound calm. She intuitively knew she had one chance at this—one chance with him. She didn't believe he'd ever forgive himself for harming her. 'Do you intend to punish me over the key? Or are you losing control again?'
Still staring at her neck, he drew his brows together. 'Hurt you?' When she attempted to pry his hand from her hair, he released it. 'Never hurt you.' Even as he was saying this, his other hand was gripping her arm. 'I was wrong about the key. Have regret for my words.'
And just like that, with two simple, unmistakable sentiments, her anger dwindled. 'If you want more with me, then don't proceed like this, when you're enraged and fresh from a fight.' She twisted her arm from his fist. 'Don't hurt the body I was just given.'
He breathed in deeply, so clearly struggling for command of himself. 'If I can get... can get control now'—his head jerked to the side and back—'you'll forgive me for losing it over the key. Say it!'
'Yes, if you can do this for us.' Néomi dared to reach up and stroke the backs of her fingers along his jawline. She experienced a jolt of surprise—this was the first time their skin had touched.
And this vampire, so brutal and violent to others, leaned his handsome face into her touch. She laid her other hand over his thundering heart. 'Conrad, je crois en toi. I believe in you. Go to the folly.'
When he hesitated, she said, 'I promise I'll be right here when you return.'
He gave her a sharp nod, before vanishing.
Back to the foggy bayou, stalking his familiar path. His mind was in turmoil.
Now his body was as well.
He inhaled, shuddering as cool air continued to flood into his lungs. It felt just as his brother had said it would. Heavy... good.
Three hundred years he'd gone without this, but now...
Conrad had been blooded. By the lush little dancer he'd wanted above all other females. God, she'd smelled like fire and wine and woman. Too good to be true. Maybe this was all another dream, more madness.
He hadn't wanted to let her out of his sight, dreading she'd disappear, but if he hadn't left, he would've hurt her. The urge to rip away her clothes and plunge into her warm body had been nearly overwhelming.
She was so delicate—so mortal. He could break her bones with an absent touch.
And he would rather die than give her pain. He might be fallen and newly blooded. But this was Néomi, the woman he'd coveted for his Bride—and had been given in the flesh.
Though he burned to know how she'd come to be like this, all he could think about was the unbearable drag of his pants across his engorged cock.
With each heartbeat, his shaft grew thicker. This had to be truly happening. He grimaced from the pressure, unable to concentrate, to handle these shocking changes within himself.
It felt like three centuries of lust was building, as if his shaft would explode, it throbbed so hard. Just when he believed the pressure couldn't possibly build more...
... it did.
He should leave here for good. But could he give this night up? Néomi was actually in their room, waiting to be touched. To be taken.
She believes I can do this.
She'd said she wanted more with him. He could finally experience what this would be like. The only obstacle to his claiming her was the threat he posed to her. He had to make sure he didn't hurt her.
But then he had to pleasure her as well.
At least before, his anger and instinct had commanded him. Now he wondered how he could possibly satisfy her. He bit out a curse—he'd never even kissed a woman before.
She's waiting for me.
His eyes briefly widened. She'd told him exactly how to proceed with her, to make her want more, to make her desperate for him.
As Conrad stalked toward her, she studied his face. He seemed less frenzied. Or maybe he was only disguising it better, turning it inward.
Once he'd backed her to the wall, he raised his hand. What will he do? She swallowed with apprehension... .
Yet he only cupped her face. The gesture was gentle, tender. When he grated, 'Put your arms around my neck,' she realized what he planned. How hard he was trying for her!
And this is why I'm falling for you.
At this exact spot in the room, they'd practiced their kiss, both of them imagining it. It felt so natural when her arms looped around his neck. She'd longed to be able to twine her fingers in the hair at his nape. Now she did with delight.
'My Néomi,' he rasped, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. 'So soft.' Her eyelids fluttered. 'More than I'd ever imagined.' His hand was shaking.
He's never touched a woman before me. All this was new to him. She needed to remember that.
'For three hundred years my sword hand has been steady. If I'm to be overcome, I'd want it to be by a little dancer.'
His scent, his heat... God, he smelled so good. 'Conrad, I want our kiss. Won't you brush your lips against mine?'
'What if I wanted to do something harder?'
'Think slow build,' she forced herself to say—because he still was barely in control.
He stared down at her with eyes like fire, then leaned in to give her what she'd yearned for. When he slanted his lips over hers, a shock of heat rushed through her. She cried out, and he slipped his tongue in.
But he allowed her to lead. She lapped at his tongue, teasing and licking, making him groan. Soon he began deepening the kiss, stroking his tongue against hers.
She held onto his shoulders, reveling in the power she felt in his muscles, and whenever he did something she liked she gave a little squeeze.
He caught on handily. So much so, that he became the one who teased her now, flicking his tongue and stoking her desire. Clever vampire. His kiss was ardent, erotic... demanding.
When he glanced the backs of his fingers from her ear down past her collarbone, then lower to the beginning swell of her breast, she shivered. Simply experiencing contact was a delight to her starved senses, but Conrad's touch was mesmerizing... .
He broke away, leaving her breathless and dizzy. As his lips followed the same path as his fingers, she grew nearly frightened by how aroused she'd become, not with longing, but with pure lust for this male.
Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples stiffened. She could feel wetness between her legs.
'Want my mouth on you.' He fisted her dress in both his hands, about to rip it apart.
'Conrad, let me.' She shimmied, tugging it until it was wedged beneath her bare breasts.
A rough sound erupted from him as he gazed at her. Then he bent to her chest. Just as he'd said, he kissed all around her nipples, brushing his lips over her sensitive flesh.
She cradled his head, holding him to her. 'Forget what I said... about a slow build.'
He ran his face against her but still teased. When he finally dragged his tongue over one of her aching nipples, she cried out, 'Oh, God!'
'You wanted me to suck on it hard?' he asked, cupping both of her breasts in his hands.
She whimpered in answer, and he returned his mouth, tugging her nipple between his lips to lick it at the same time. He gave a husky groan around the peak, then suckled her.
'Yes, yes... ' Friction, moisture, bliss. Her fingers dug in his hair, pressing him closer as she arched wantonly.
When he switched to her other breast, squeezing as he sucked her, she couldn't stand it any longer. She clutched his hips. And he remembered. He eased his big hand under her dress, his skin deliciously abrasive against her tender thigh.
'Higher,' she panted. 'Touch me... .'
While he slowly raised his hand, she began frantically unbuttoning his shirt, shoving it from him. Placing her
