Demon Moon

scraped his fangs over her vein, and he paused. “Are you frightened?”
    “No,” she said without hesitation .
    He smiled. “You should be. I should teach you a lesson in self-preservation, about vampires and their dark needs. You should not offer yourself so easily to one.”
    “Go ahead,” she said, trembling with her laughter. “Teach me. Hugh says I’ve always been too trusting for my own good. But I hardly think immortality and incredible sex are things to fear.” She rocked her hips against him, and he groaned against her throat. His cock was still buried deep within her, still hard and aching, though the bloodlust had temporarily over-whelmed the physical desire. “Next time I’ll ask you to turn me, and I’ll explore those dark needs myself.”
    He raised his head to look at her, traced his finger over her cheek. “I’ve not the ability to transform you, Savitri.” And he was surprised by the regret that accompanied the admission .
    “I’ll settle for great sex then,” she said. “If you’ll just get on with teaching me that lesson.”
    Delightful girl. Castleford was an idiot if he thought he could keep Colin away from her after this. A kiss to her neck, to soothe the fears she must have, despite her words. The tips of his fangs pierced her skin; a sharp prick, but as soon as the blood flowed, he could breach her psyche, send her the rapture of it .
    Yes, too trusting…too fearless. Her blood filled his mouth. Pleasure spilled through him, and he gathered it, prepared to give her the same .
    Chaos roared up from beneath . Feed. Ripping and tearing and running. Feed. He choked, stiffened . No. He reached for the ecstasy, found despair and terror .
    “Colin?” Her voice, vibrating against his lips. Fearless. “It’s okay. I want this.”
    And she wouldn’t remember, he realized numbly. It wouldn’t matter. It would only be a dream. For him, too—for one moment not being alone in this. Sharing beauty and perfection, and the depths of Hell. Savitri, she wasn’t afraid. Never afraid. And she’d wake up. Despite her wish, she’d wake up .
    He hadn’t wanted to awaken, either .
    Chaos rose and rose…he opened his psychic shields and let it out. He sipped. Tasted .
    She was sweet. So very sweet. Her mind lay ordered and calm, with a single dark corner that she’d covered and pushed away as if she’d been expecting guests. He skated around it gratefully, tried to go deeper—and slammed into a thick, dense spiral, sticky with curiosity and striated with brilliant emotion…
    What the hell was that?
    Startled, he pulled away, then gasped as the bloodlust broke and the orgasm tore through him in pulsing streams. Pain joined it, agony that began in his testicles and radiated out—his chest, his neck, clawing at his cheeks .
    Savitri. His eyes flew open as her knee rammed into him again. Her fingers swiped at his face. He instinctively jerked his head back; her nails scraped his chin instead of blinding him .
    Her eyes were vacant with horror, tears leaking from the corners. Scarlet trickled from the wounds on her neck .
    Oh, good God. What had he done?
    On the verge of panic, he bent his head to her throat again . Heal her, put her to sleep. She’ll forget.
    With a strangled scream, she slammed her foot into his chest. He didn’t move, but she did, sliding back across the slick marble and tumbling into the pool. She went under, and he lurched forward, her name tearing from his lips .
    He could still taste her blood .
    She surfaced, slapping at the mirrored water and taking deep, gulping breaths. Cupping her hand over the punctures, she swiveled to face him. Wariness tightened her features. Her lips were trembling, her eyes dark, shimmering wells .
    “Savitri…” His throat closed. What could he say? And her shields were too high for him to put her to sleep. He held out his hand, gave a charming smile. “Allow me to assist you.”
    “You’ve helped me enough. Lesson learned,” she said, her voice harsh. A denial rose to his lips, but it died when his gaze fell to her fingers, clasped against her throat; she was shaking, shivering with cold. And fear. She shut her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I feel the desperate need to bathe.”
    Without looking at him, she turned and swam toward the center of the fountain. She laid her cheek against the base of the obelisk, presenting her back to him .
    He couldn’t breathe. His stomach burned, the acrid flavor of shame stiffened his