Page 303 of Dragon Slayer

When his wits returned, he found that he’d slumped over onto his side, and that he’d hauled her up against him. His cock had softened, and he’d slipped out of her; they were wet and tacky, skin glued together. His face was buried against the side of her face; he had a mouthful of her hair. He snuffled and purred like a housecat, and couldn’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed about that.

Mia’s hand skimmed aimlessly up and down his arm. Her breath came in soft little puffs just beneath his ear. “That was…” she started.

“Mmm.” He pulled back so he could look at her: her flushed cheeks, and bright eyes, and kiss-pink lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admitted.

She smiled, lazy and sated, a little embarrassed. “Not as long as me, I can promise.”

He traced her smile with a fingertip. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“God, no.”

But what he did next would. A little. At least at first.

It should have been a sobering thought, but was instead electrifying; his eagerness, the rush of blood to his face and his cock frightened him in its intensity.

He peeled away from her, reluctant, and pushed himself upright. “Stay here.”

She didn’t argue, closing her eyes and settling down in the sheets with a little hum of agreement.

Val felt wobbly as a new colt when he got to his feet, his knees threatening to give out. He braced a hand against the bedpost, and memory threatened to intrude – a night centuries ago, legs shaking, lungs shaking, stomach aching; Mehmet rolling away from him, candle shadows leaping up the tent walls. But no, that wasn’t this. This was new and precious, and he wouldn’t let the past scar it.

In the bathroom, he wet a cloth with warm water. His reflection was an unfamiliar one: color high, face soft, and tired, the light in his eyes warm. It took him a long moment, warm water rushing over his hands, to realize that he lookedhappy.

He shut off the taps, turned back to the door, and paused in the threshold.

Mia had turned onto her side and pulled the sheet up over her hip. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, and the lamplight did artful things to the curve of her waist and breasts, her skin pearlescent with drying sweat. She looked like a painting, right down to the enigmatic smile she was sending his way.

She laid one arm across the mattress, toward him, palm-up in invitation. “Come back.”

He did. It felt like she’d hooked him by the collar he no longer wore and towed him in, and he went unresisting. Willingly. Not an order, not an ultimatum, but a choice, and he grinned like a fool as he climbed onto the bed and knelt at her side. Slowly, reverently pulled the sheet down.

“Here, darling, let me clean you off.”

She turned over, but blushed, slow to open her legs for him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but you’ve awakened my inner gentleman, and I absolutely have to, I’m afraid.”

She chuckled. “You’re always a gentleman.”

“Hmm. That’s what you think.”

“Pretentious, anyway.”

“You wound me, darling.”

He wiped her breasts, and belly, and between her legs with the cloth, tender and intimate, but without any kind of heat. He wanted her, yes, but he loved her too. Wanted to care for her. To take that awful taint of sickness from her blood, and to do every little thing she would let him, down to braiding her hair and bathing her skin. He would clean her with his tongue if it wasn’t completely ridiculous.

The night table was topped with green marble, so he set the cloth there when he was finished, vowing to wring it out properly over the sink later – not that they wouldbe herelater, but it was the thought that counted, so often. When he turned back, he expected to find her blushing – and she was – but she was staring at him, her gaze trained between his legs.

Her brows scaled her forehead, but he thought her sideways smile was impressed. “Really? Already?”

He resisted the urge to squirm. “Vampire biology is…a little different. We can…um…yes. Also…” No, he couldn’t tell her that.

“What?”

He bit his lip and realized his fangs were still fully descended. Blood welled up from the pinprick mark he’d left, and he swept it away with his tongue. Even though it was his own, the taste of blood only left him more eager, if that was possible. “Sexual lust and bloodlust can often be…linked. In a vampire’s subconscious.”

“Oh.” She sat up, and subtly tugged the edge of the sheet into her lap, covering herself. It didn’t look like a conscious move, but Val eased back, not wanting to frighten her. “And you’re…?”

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