She imitated each move—until she kissed his throat. When the tip of her tongue licked his skin, he tilted her head up, lightly fastened his mouth on hers, and kissed her in earnest. Kissed her with all the hunger that had been building inside him during the past month, during a lifetime. Kissed her while his hands roamed over her back and hips and delicately explored her breasts. Kissed her until she moaned. Kissed her until she opened for him and let his tongue dance with hers. Kissed her until her hands slid up his back and clamped on his shoulders. Kissed her until the moan turned into a hungry snarl and he felt her nails prick his skin through the shirt and jacket.

And then realized he had taken them farther than he had meant to right now. Returning his hands to her waist, he eased back to the light, easy kisses.

Sensing his withdrawal, she snarled again—and there was anger as well as hunger in the sound. “You don’t want me?” she asked in her midnight voice.

He nudged her hips toward him just enough to prove his answer. “Yes, I want you.” He gave in for one more moment, fastened his mouth on her neck and sucked hard enough to leave a love bite. Tearing his mouth away, he gave her little butterfly kisses from jaw to temple. “But this is just playtime, just an appetizer.”

“Playtime?” Witch said suspiciously.

“Mmm,” he replied, licking the spot on her forehead where the tiny spiral horn would be if they were in the abyss. “This isn’t the right place for more than playtime.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like my first time to be in a bed.”

Her anger vanished instantly. “Oh. Yes, that would be more comfortable,” Jaenelle said.

Will you invite me to your bed tonight? He knew better than to ask so bluntly, but he also knew he had to ask. “May I come to you tonight?” Feeling her tense, he quickly pressed a finger against her lips. “No words. Just a kiss will be answer enough.”

Her answer was everything he had hoped it would be.

3 / Kaeleer

Daemon braced his hands on the dresser and closed his eyes.

Breathe, damn you, he thought fiercely. Just breathe.

How in the name of Hell did men do this the first time? Maybe, for a youth, the thrill was enough to push him past the doubts. Maybe it was easier the first time when the woman wasn’t quite so special—or when the next hour wouldn’t determine whether the woman you desperately wanted would have you.

He knew dozens upon dozens of ways to kiss, to caress, to arouse a woman and make her crave having him in her bed.

He couldn’t remember a single one.

Daemon straightened up, retied the belt on the robe he wore over silk pajama bottoms…and swore with heart-felt intensity.