Of course, Mircea was feeding, and on a god’s power at that. That tended to be an orgasmic experience for vamps, even under normal circumstances. Perhaps he was preoccupied…

And then I noticed—his pulls from my body had synched up perfectly with Pritkin’s thrusts into it, and okay.

Done thinking now.

Pritkin made that easy, starting slow, letting me feel the thick glide of his flesh through mine, every inch of it, as he caressed me from the inside. Slow, but not too slow, deep, but not too deep, searching for just the right angle. Then gradually building momentum when he found it, the sensual glide becoming quicker as I squirmed, as I gasped, as my body stretched to accommodate him.

That part wasn’t so easy; he was big and I was unprepared, in more way than one. But this was a half incubus, and one that knew me all too well. He bent forward, the scratch of his stubble a welcome distraction from the strange whiteness of his body. I closed my eyes, and immediately received another shock, when a warm, wet mouth closed over a nipple.

He began to suck, gently at first, a sweet caress, the roughness of his tongue sweeping around the areola, peaking the tender flesh. And then harder, while squeezing and kneading my body with his hands, until I writhed and muttered things, I’m not sure what. And then came off the bed, crying out his name when he bit down, nipping the little nub he’d made.

And sending a new kind of lightning sizzling through me.

He showed me no mercy, immediately returning to his former occupation, and even speeding up slightly. Faster and harder, not pounding me, not yet, just enough difference to make me feel it, to make it resonate all the way to my bones. I had a flash of sensation: sweat from his hair, a few drops, landing on my stomach; callused hands, warm on the bare skin of my ass, adjusting me; fingers digging into my skin, not enough to cause me pain, not that I’d probably have noticed right then. Just enough to help establish a perfect, passionate, toe-curling rhythm that had me panting in seconds.

And with every move, his power increased. I could see it in my mind, the bands of glittering black, pulsing in time with his movements. In seconds, it looked like we were caught in a galactic maelstrom, trapped at the center of a universe of wildly skewing stars and distant nebulas, one that was spinning faster and faster and faster, with my heartbeat racing right alongside it.

Part of that came from not understanding why we weren’t burning up. We’d set fire to a hotel the last time we’d tried this, and had almost gone up ourselves. And the dangerous feedback loop that characterized incubus magic had caught.