Page 47 of Prince with a Chance of Darkness

He landed on his back with a thud, and she was on him instantly, straddling his waist, blade pressed to his chest. The position was achingly familiar—like that night in his cell four years ago.

Yes!His demon exclaimed as if it had won a prize.Now we are talking. Quick, undress.

Chapter Sixteen

Vlad

Ponytail Girl stareddown at Vlad, her blue eyes clear of darkness and bloodlust. Now she was completely in control, completely herself.

And she had no idea who he was.

That simply would not do. No. Not when she’d consumed his thoughts all these years. Not when he’d searched the world over for her and had finally found her.

Show her, the demon said and Vlad knew instantly what it meant.

His hands moved slowly to the buttons of his shirt, keeping his movements careful, deliberate. Her gaze tracked each motion, but the blade never wavered from his heart.

Good.

It meant she was still poised to kill him should he prove to be a threat to her. As it should be. He never wanted to think of her as being vulnerable again. No. She was fierce.

A warrior.

And she was with him again.

"Seriously? You’re not only sporting a monster of an erection there, buddy, but you’re going to get naked now too?" She arched a brow, adjusting her position over him. "Not that I'm complaining about the view, but usually guys buy me dinner first. And I’ve never had a vampire try to worm out of being slayed by way of seduction. Can’t say I’m hating it or anything. Carry on. I want to see the goods."

The night air grew thick between them as he worked each button free. He could hear her heartbeat, smell the mixture of night jasmine and honeysuckle that had haunted his dreams. The faint hints of arousal began to mix into it all. She wasn’t unaffected by him.

Good.

His demon purred at her proximity, at the feel of her weight pressed against him.

"You know," she said, her voice low and husky in a way that made his fingers stumble on the next button, "as far as last requests go, this is kind of unique. Most vamps just beg for their lives."

“I do not plan to be the one doing the begging,” he said as he continued unbuttoning, watching as her eyes followed each new inch of exposed skin. The blade remained steady, but he sensed her curiosity warring with her instinct to strike. The predator in her recognized the predator in him, yet something else passed between them. Something electric and dangerous.

“Damn. I’ll hand it to you, you’ve got a killer body,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I kind of want to lick it all over.”

Finally!shouted his demon, pushing at him to tear off his clothing and let her.

"Though I have to admit," she shifted slightly on him, leaving her groin pressed to his, sending sparks of awareness through him, "this is working more than it should on me. Those abs alone deserve a moment of silence."

His shirt fell open more. Moonlight spilled across his chest, highlighting the network of scars earned in his mortal life. But there was one that stood out—the mark that perfectly matched hers—if it still remained.

Her weapon lowered slightly, confusion coating her expression. Her free hand hovered midair, trembling slightly, fingers splayed as if unsure whether to touch or flee. Her breathing changed—shallow, uneven. She looked at the scar like it might sear her skin if she got too close. The tips of her fingers skimmed it and fire shot right to his groin.

Encourage her to touch us all over, said the demon.Suggest she start lower.

Vlad ignored the demon, his gaze locked on Ponytail Girl’s. He had only seen her eyes this blue before by way of Harker’s shared visions. When she had been with Vlad for the two weeks following the attack, her eyes had been black or some variation of it. They were beautiful—just like her.

Vlad’s hand lifted of its own accord, and he brushed a stray strand of long, dark hair from her cheek.

She didn’t flinch or jerk away. It was a good sign.

Her fingers skimmed over his scar, causing his power to flare. It crackled between them, moving from him to her and back again. The dagger in her other hand wavered. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as her fingers traced the raised edges of his scar. Such a gentle touch from hands he knew could deal death.

His entire body yearned toward that contact, while his demon held perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement might break the magik of the moment.

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