Page 63 of The Vampire's Bride

Valaric’s eyes meet mine, and I’m caught in their crimson depths, completely in his thrall. My every nerve ending hums in awareness as my body molds to his.

I’ve heard that the most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly. And as I study the strong line of his jaw and his full, perfect lips, I understand now how Vampires so easily lure their victims.

Valaric is so handsome, I can barely think as he studies me intensely. Even if I didn’t know him, with the way he’s holding me and staring at me now, escape would be the last thing on my mind.

Like a statue carved by the gods themselves, he is both handsome and terrifying to behold—a dangerous predator witha face that would make a master sculptor weep at its beautiful perfection.

I wonder if he can hear the unspoken confession of my heart’s quickening pace.

His lips are so close to my own, it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between us. I look down at his mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. And as his eyes stare deep into my own, I realize that I want to know him, and to be known by him in return.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“You remembered my story about how I wanted to see pixies. And I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”

He touches my face, staring deep into my emerald eyes. “Green.”

A warm flush spreads across my cheeks. “Favorite food?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise, and I laugh. “Never mind, never mind. That was a terrible question.”

“Yes,” he agrees, a handsome smile quirking his lips.

“First kiss?” the question escapes without thought as my gaze drops again to his perfect mouth.

“I was seven and she was eight, I believe,” he muses. “We were playing in a field. She was very bossy. Used to having her way. She pecked me on the lips because she’d decided I should be her husband.” He arches a teasing brow. “It was an ambush.”

I snort out a laugh, slamming my hand to my mouth in horror at the very unladylike sound I just made, which only makes him laugh as well.

A light and airy sound, like the tinkling of bells, fills the air around us.

“The pixies are laughing at my story,” Valaric says, answering my unspoken question. His gaze meets mine. “What about you?” he asks. “Tell me of your first kiss.”

Something about this moment makes me brave, and I lean in. “I thought it would be on my wedding day, in a temple of the old gods, to my new husband, but I was wrong.” His mouth drifts open. “Instead, it was three days later, in an inn, on my honeymoon, when my Vampire husband’s lips pressed to my skin, kissing his mark upon my neck.”

Valaric cups my chin, studying me intensely. “You would have welcomed my kiss at our wedding?”

I’m completely mesmerized, lost in his eyes. He is captivating and dangerous. Everything about him draws me in, and I cannot look away. My heart hammers as my hands seem to move of their own accord, framing his devastatingly handsome face.

Slowly, I lean in, breathing in the soft mint of his breath as it mingles with my own, and close the small gap between us. The featherlight touch of his lips against mine makes my heart flutter. “Yes,” I reply in a breathless whisper.

He captures my mouth with his own. The kiss is soft and tender, and although I’ve never done this before, I already want more.

A soft moan rises in my throat as he kisses one corner of my mouth and then moves to the other as if savoring the taste of my lips. He cups the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair. His thumb traces lightly across my cheek as he whispers against my mouth. “Open for me, my beautiful wife.”

My lips part beneath his, and I melt into his arms as his tongue finds mine, gentle and exploring.

Valaric tightens his arms around me, surrounding me in his warmth and his masculine scent as he coaxes me to explore him in return.

Each stroke of his tongue against mine sends an answering pulse of heat straight to my core. Desire coils within as he deepens our kiss. It is gentle and demanding all at once, both a conquering and a surrender.

This is even better than anything I could have imagined.

He presses a series of tender kisses along my jaw and down my neck. His lips brush the mark on my skin, and I moan in anticipation as the sharp points of his fangs graze over my sensitive flesh.

Quickly, he jerks back.

“What is it?” Confusion and embarrassment twist deep inside me. “Did I do something wrong?”

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