her to new avenues of bliss.
Her earlier fears and misgivings scattered, blown away by the intensity of her increasing pleasure. She rode him and he guided her so that his long steady strokes created maximum ecstasy.
Her vagina clenched around him as she climaxed. He made her come again as his hips surged up, driving ever deeper into her welcoming depths.
This wasn’t just awesome hot sex. Damon loved her. He didn’t just drive her mad with his stubbornness, he drove her mad with his lovemaking. He’d saved her. They’d saved each other.
There was no holding back. She shattered in his arms, wild pulses of bliss oscillating through her.
She collapsed, unable to speak for a long time. “I love you, Damon,” she whispered against his throat.
“It sure took you long enough to say the words.”
“There’s no rush.” She ran her fingers down his chest past his navel to his vampire privates. “We’ve got forever.”
He grinned. “True enough, little witch.”
“Admit it.” She held him in her hand, her fingers gently caressing him. “You’re glad I came to Vamptown, aren’t you?”
“Damn right!” He flipped her onto her back and slid his fingers into her moistness. “And you’re glad you’re here, aren’t you?”
“I’m more than glad. I’m over the moon.” She ran her fingers over his tattoo so close to her own talisman. “A shooting star is only in the sky for a brief period of time.” She touched the talisman around her neck. “A star is there until the end of time. Just like us.”
Her eyes flickered from the fiery joy he was creating with his caresses—but before they closed, she saw his tattoo shift so that the shooting star became a star. Magic. Pure magic.
“Just like us,” Damon murmured. “Just like us.”
Read on for an excerpt from Cat Devon’s next book
Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
When Sierra Brennan opened the door to her new house in Chicago, she didn’t expect to find a naked man standing there. A very hot, sexy, well-built, and well-hung man, looking like he was hung-over. He made no attempt to cover up while she made every effort to keep her eyes on his face and not his privates.
“Thank God you’re here,” a woman wearing a corset and little else said from right beside Sexy Naked Guy. Sexy Naked Trespassing Guy. “What took you so long?”
“What do you mean what took me so long?”
“Who are you talking to?” Sexy Naked Guy asked. His voice was low and rough.
“Your girlfriend,” Sierra said.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.
“Look, I don’t care what your relationship is with her, but you are both trespassing so you need to leave right now. As soon as you get dressed, I mean.”
“I’m the only one here,” he said.
“Clearly that’s not true as I am here as well.” She punched 911 into her smartphone.
He moved closer and looked deep into her eyes. He had chocolate-brown eyes and thick lashes. His chiseled cheekbones made his face as sexy as the rest of his chiseled body. “You don’t want to do that.”
“You really don’t want to do that,” the corseted woman said.
Sierra already knew what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to screw up her chance to inherit this house. Several others had tried and failed to fulfill the thirty-consecutive-days residency requirement. She’d only met her great-uncle Saul Brennan once yet he’d listed her in his will. Yeah, he’d listed two older cousins of hers before her, but here she was anyway. They hadn’t stayed in the house. She would. Because she had a huge advantage.
Sierra was not afraid of snakes or spiders or things that went bump in the night. Especially things that went bump in the night. That was her specialty.
Sierra saw things most people didn’t. Yes, maybe it was a cliche, but she saw dead people. Ghosts. Spirits who for one reason or another didn’t or couldn’t move on to the other side.
Which was why she was able to write such good paranormal novels.
Yep, she saw ghosts, and she was seeing them now as the corseted woman moved closer and shimmered with translucency. Which meant Sexy Naked Guy was a ghost too, right? She put out her hand to check. Her fingertips rested on his bare chest. His
“Why aren’t you leaving?” he growled.
She yanked her hand away as if burned. “Because this is my house and you are the squatter.”
“The house is mine,” he said.
“In your dreams,” she said. “Who do you think you are?”
“I know who I am,” he said. “I’m Ronan McCoy. Who are you?”
“Sierra Brennan, the owner of this property.”
“Since when?” he said.
“Since yesterday.”
“Forget him. I need your help,” the ghost said. “My name is Ruby, in case you were wondering.”
“One thing at a time,” Sierra told Ruby. “Get dressed,” she told Sexy Naked Guy. Wait, his name was Ronan.
He looked deep into her eyes once more. “Get out.”
Sierra shook her head. “No way.”
She saw the confusion there before irritation took over. “Leave!” he bellowed.
“You leave,” she bellowed back at him. She’d driven her U-Haul truck nine hours across three states and she was beyond exhausted. She had PMS and she was not a happy camper.
“How long has he been here?” Sierra asked Ruby.
“Who are you talking to?” he demanded.
“He’s been here a few days,” Ruby said. “I’ve been here for decades and decades.”
Sierra frowned. If Ronan was a recent arrival, then he couldn’t be the reason Ruby hadn’t crossed over. He obviously couldn’t see Ruby. She should have realized that Ruby was a ghost faster than she had, but Sierra chalked that up to the fact that she was so tired. Usually she could tell a ghost from a human but nothing about this Saturday had been usual.
She’d done a book signing at nine this morning in Ohio. There had been a good turnout, but a majority of the audience had wanted her to pass on messages to their departed loved ones. Sierra had had to tell them that she wasn’t a clairvoyant, she was a writer.
Yes, her books revolved around ghosts but that didn’t mean they were real. That was her story, and she always stuck to it. The rest was between her and the ghosts she helped to the other side. She wasn’t about to reveal her ghost whisperer side to the general public. She knew all too well the stigma that carried, the mocking laughter when as a child she’d told friends that she saw ghosts. She’d been labeled weird and ostracized. Ever since then, she’d been careful not to reveal her hidden talent.
Sierra would deal with Ruby the Ghost later. First she needed to get rid of Naked Ronan. “Look, I don’t know why you think you have a right to be here,” Sierra told him, “but I’m telling you that the previous occupants did not fulfill the requirements of the will.”
Ruby raised her hand and had a sheepish look on her translucent face. “That may have been my fault.”
“I had a feeling,” Sierra muttered.
Ronan frowned. “You had a feeling about what? No, don’t answer because I don’t care.”
What kind of man stood there so arrogantly while so naked? An extremely ripped one. Not in a bodybuilder-weird kind of way but in a six-pack, shoulda-been-in-the-movie-
