“Wow. That’s some power you have. I can feel it all the way to my toes. They’re definitely curling.” Her tone was still light, but it now had a breathless quality to it.

As he transferred his attention to her other nipple, she showed her appreciation by sliding her foot up his inner thigh. Then she stopped. He wanted that foot to move higher, to…he couldn’t decide. The possibilities were endless.

He needed to explore lower on her body, but that would mean she couldn’t reach vital spots with her toes. And he had high hopes for those toes. Move your freaking foot. He stopped short of transmitting his mental command. That would be too much like begging.

So instead, he buried his face in the hair at the base of her neck while her essence did amazing things to him. The man in him wanted to bottle the rich scent of warm woman and hot arousal so he could lather up with it when he showered and wear it all day. But the vampire in him had no days, only nights filled with the scent and taste of her blood, a scent he’d recognize even if he lived six more centuries. The taste would have to wait.

Finally. She moved her foot.

She rubbed her toes against his balls, kneading them like a contented cat. Then she worked her way up to his cock. And if she used a little more pressure in her excitement, it was all good to him. There was a fine line between pain and pleasure, but Cinn came down hard on the side of pleasure. And when she made little sounds of enjoyment, it ramped up his arousal to spontaneous combustion level.

“I’m not—” He kissed his way over her stomach, pausing to swirl his tongue in her navel.

She abandoned her lethal toe attack. Gasping, she arched her back and moaned.

“Going to last—” He slid his hands beneath her tight round bottom and lifted her.

She wrapped her legs around him and started offering suggestions between hard pants. “Therethere-there!”

“Much—” He lowered his head and put his mouth on her.

“Yes. Moremoremore.”

Sliding his tongue across the nub of flesh that brought women such pleasure, he allowed himself to enjoy her cry through the blaze of his own need. The taste of her would be with him always, unique and a memory of the sensual woman she was. Now came the true test. He dipped his tongue into her, in and out, in and out, imitating the sexual dance. And each time he thrust his tongue into all her moist heat, he knew she felt the pressure of his fangs. There was no way she couldn’t.

She didn’t pull away; she didn’t ask him to stop. She just gasped, “Longer. Say it. You’re not going to last much longer.”