“From the very start, I should have guessed what you used to be. Your past doesn’t surprise me.” His voice was careful, as if he wasn’t sure yet what her confession meant. “The way you fight. The way you handle a gun. New vampires usually have little experience with werebeasts and half demons. You’re wary around nonhumans, but you aren’t afraid.”
Talia waited for some sign of his rejection, bracing as if a surgeon were about to cut her flesh without benefit of freezing. “I guess I gave myself away,” was all she could manage.
Lore’s gaze was still fixed on her face. “Not to anyone else. Your cover is good. The clothes. The teaching job.”
“That’s not cover,” Talia said, a touch of heat creeping into her words. “I’m a girl. I like pretty things.”
His lips twitched. “You have a lot of clothes.”
“Paws off the closet.”
There was a small change in his posture as his muscles relaxed. “I wouldn’t dare.”
His easing off made it possible for her to unwind a little. “And I didn’t lie when I said that all I want to do is teach. I don’t mind kicking ass, but I’d rather do it in the classroom.”
“I’ve heard of the human male’s fascination with naughty schoolgirls, but I think they’ve overlooked the teachers.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“I don’t think so.”
Confusion crept up on her. “I have plenty of nonhuman blood on my hands.”
He ran his thumb over her brow, smoothing out her frown. “For that, I’m sorry. But I don’t think you would do the same things now, would you?”
“No. I’ll fight, but it will be for good reasons.”
He bent and kissed her. They’d kissed before, but this was different. A new seriousness charged the moment.
“You smell right to me,” he said, his voice suddenly husky.
“Mm.” His scent was perfect—the warm, spicy musk of him locking her attention to him and him alone. She drank him in, one long deep breath reminding her how wonderful the presence of a warm, solid male could be.
“I thought you didn’t do dead people.”
“I’m in an experimental mood.”
“Rebel without a chew stick.”
“Shut up.”
His lips were surprisingly soft, his hands warm and rough as they cupped her cheeks, positioning her just so for another kiss. She folded her fingers around his, pulling his hands down to her waist. He didn’t need more invitation than that. His hands slid under her sweater, gently kneading her flesh.
She watched the strong architecture of tendon and muscle in Lore’s neck as he bent to kiss her again and again. Talia felt her hunger whisper through her blood, as subtle as the slide of silk on skin. As her desire rose, so did the urge to feed. One did not arrive without the other.
Lore’s palm crept to her breast, cupping it, caressing her nipple through the lace of her bra.
“If you keep this up, I’m going to bite you,” she said, the words barely above a hiss of inhaled breath.
“I know. It won’t hurt me. I’m a demon, remember?”
“Half demon.”
His words were quick, his breath hot and urgent on her cheek. “Demon enough that you can’t live off me. Demon enough that I won’t become addicted to you. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it.”
Encouraged, she let her lips slide to his jaw, running her tongue down the swell of his throat, exploring the ridges and valleys, the texture of his tanned skin. He had smelled delicious. He tasted exotic. The sweet ache in her jaws was matched by an insistent burn low in her belly.
Hands spanning her waist, he hoisted her upward, depriving her of his taste. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, her hands gripping the bulk of his shoulders. His dark eyes held her spellbound, the mix of emotions complex as a rare wine. But this time, they held something she hadn’t seen before.
Pleasure.
Raw. Unchecked.
Talia was suddenly wet with anticipation. “Take me,” she said.
In two strides, they were at the bed. She slid away from him, giving him room enough to pull his shirt off. Talia felt a sudden jolt of pleasure. Lore was big, but he was lean, nothing obscuring the fluid play of muscle under his skin. She stroked his chest with both hands, unable to resist that simple act of possession.
As her hands reached the waistband of his low-slung jeans, she popped the button, then fingered the tab of the zipper. It was how she imagined Christmas morning should be, poised to rip the paper off the best present ever.
He put his hand over hers. Feeling suddenly awkward, she started to draw back, but he tightened his grip, guiding her hand as she unzipped the jeans, the cloth springing away from the opening as it grew. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and he was ready to come out and play.
He is the pack father. The fertile seed. Lore was more than well equipped for the job.
Her body suddenly felt hot and heavy. Talia sank to her knees, stripping off his jeans as she knelt on the soft bedroom carpet. His thighs were roped with muscle, the legs of a long-distance runner.
Talia’s stomach gave a flutter of excitement. No wonder Mavritte was pissed she couldn’t have him.
“Talia,” he whispered, his hands weaving into her hair. “I want to make you remember my touch always.”
The words had a vaguely ceremonial sound, as if they were a ritual declaration.
“And I’ll give you something to remember.”
She took him in her mouth, tasting the pungent salt of male. With fangs, it was a delicate operation, and one normally reserved for the most intimate of lovers. That she went straight to the most erotic gift she could give said much about how badly she wanted him.
And here he probably thought this would be ordinary foreplay. A demon might not become chemically addicted to venom, but they would still feel its extreme erotic high.
She cupped the warm heat of his sac, giving it a caress just on the right side of firmness. She heard the hiss of his breath, felt his fingers dig into her hair. Then she braced her other hand on the hard surface of his hip, bringing her mouth to the soft, silky inside of his thigh.
And delicately broke the surface, no more than a deep scratch. Lore’s muscles jumped, but she held him still, using vampire strength. Her venom seeped into his flesh, straight to a male’s most erogenous area. His skin grew suddenly cold beneath her lips, and then flushed with heat. Lore moaned words she didn’t know, but completely understood. A vampire’s bite was painful, but the rush turned you into a single, taut nerve singing with pleasure.
She released him, judging how much sensual overload would be just right. He was still saying something in his own language, his voice low and husky. When they’d begun, he’d been almost ready, but now he was fully engorged, hard and long. Talia felt her eyes growing wide as he pulled her to her feet. His eyes had gone to black, the whites disappeared somewhere in that stare that was more demon than man. Perhaps she’d overdone it?
He grabbed her, crushing her lips under his, a low growl rumbling in his chest like an earthquake. She felt it in her breasts, pulsing where her nipples were pressed against his chest. A thrill of pleasure streaked all the way to her thighs. She fumbled for the fastenings on her own clothes, her fingers clumsy with urgency.
Talia wasn’t going to waste this moment. She was an immortal, but she wasn’t convinced another opportunity like this was going to come along again in her Unlifetime.
She had barely shimmied her jeans and panties over her hips before he jerked them down her legs. As she pulled her sweater off over her head, he was unhooking her bra, his mouth already on her breasts. He bore her down, spreading her before him on the bed, covering her with his big body.
“You’re ready,” he murmured. “I can smell it.”
Talia was quivering, feeling like she’d given herself a venom overdose. She ached from her breasts to her thighs, her whole body begging for him. In her sire’s court, she’d been made to pleasure others, but no one had given themselves to her. It had been so long. “Please.”
