Open the gates, he was a dead man.

Her hands tangled in his hair and she whispered, “I’m probably going to hell for this, Greylen, but right now, hell’s looking pretty frigging good.”

Greylen’s arms snaked behind her, tightening until she was pressed fully against him, and his hand gripped her head. “It appears to be frigging Eden, Gwen,” he agreed, using her word.

Then he kissed her.

No niceties this night. No slow explorations. He fed off of her like she were his last morsel. Holding her as if she were his lifeline in the world. And he could not get enough. No matter how he tried, it simply was not enough.

He tugged Gwen’s chin, deepening their kiss when she opened for him. His tongue swept inside, and he swallowed the sound she made, returning it with a growl as she joined him. Good God, she kissed him back with such abandon, pressed so hard to his body, he felt her every measure. He continued his feeding, his need of her such that he’d never experienced. Her legs tightened around his waist as her hands moved through his hair, urging him deeper. Then he was standing, with Gwen in his arms and her long, bare legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She seemed not to notice as he laid her upon the mattress, never breaking their kiss. He lay completely atop her, supporting his weight with his arms, feeling her entire body beneath his.

’Twas as close to heaven as he’d ever been. And he was going to hell when he was done.

Greylen felt Gwen’s hands move across his back, pressing him closer. Her hips moved against him and he growled in response. He tried not to move with her, but ’twas beyond his control. He was lost. Lost in an intense haze as he settled between her thighs. Then they were moving together. A slow, torturous grind he could not stop. His hand ran down the length of her body, and as he brushed past her waist, ’twas only bare skin that he felt…bare skin from her hip down to her foot.

He was going to take her.

His hand wrapped around the underside of her thigh. He growled as his fingertips glanced warm, moist heat. He tugged on her lips with his teeth…scraping past her chin…her long, delicate neck.

His face brushed the swell of her breast through the material of the shirt. Then he covered her with his mouth. She gasped, her body tensing as she tangled her hands in his hair. His teeth closed over her nipple, gently tugging…then his mouth covered her again. Closing with infinite slowness as teeth scraped—

“Oh God…Greylen…take them off. Please, help me take them off.”

Greylen lifted his head. Gwen was reaching for the bindings covering her eyes. Something was amiss.

“Help me, damn it,” she snapped.

Sanity was like a full-frontal blow when he wished to be witless. But he said a silent prayer that Gwen had brought him to his senses. He reached for her hands and wrapped them behind her back. Then he could do little more than rest his head on her chest.