Immortals After Dark 03 - No Rest for the Wicked

this couldn’t be calculated.
    His self-congratulations faded when he saw that she slept fitfully. She lay on her front, her torso bare but for her shining hair cascading down. A shirt was wadded up near her head. One slender arm stretched out to the sword that rested beside her.
    A sense of unease passed over him. Did she sleep with a sword as defense against the possibility of his finding her, or was her life always as dangerous as it seemed today? If the latter, he didn’t know if he could ever let her out of his sight again.
    Her eyes darted behind her lids, and her pointed ear twitched as if to detect the sound of danger. Was she listening for the approaching footsteps of an enemy?
    Her breaths were pants, the way young animals breathe in sleep.
    Around the sword handle, her fingers curled surely, and seeing that made his chest feel tight. He could protect her if only she’d allow it.
    Surprisingly, she seemed to calm in his presence, so he removed his sword belt and jacket and laid them on a nearby bench. With leisure to study her, he drank her in with his gaze. He’d never thought of a woman’s back as sexy, but hers was. He wanted to clasp her slim shoulders and pull her close to kiss along the delicate indentation of her spine.
    Her smooth, golden skin beckoned him. It couldn’t be as soft as it looked.
    She murmured something from dreams and shifted her position, turning her head to the other direction. She drew her knee up, and the sheet slid off her, exposing the small pink shorts she wore. They were pulled aside, and in the shadow he caught a stolen glimpse of her female flesh and groaned. She was blond there, too, perfect and beautiful.
    Born of gods? He was confident of it.
    He had to touch her there, kiss her. He’d never taken a woman with his mouth, though he’d fantasized about it often enough as a mortal man. He barely stifled a shudder of pleasure at the thought of doing it to her.
    With his shaft hard as iron, he reached forward...

17
    N o, Kaderin didn’t dream, not since the blessing, so even in sleep, she was confused about why she dreamed the vampire was nudging her legs apart.
    Of course, it’s a dream. A wicked one. I’d never sleep through a vampire’s presence.
    She allowed the dream vampire to continue touching her, seduced by his ragged breaths as he skimmed his fingers up her inner thighs, his hands shaking. In her dream, they were hot, one covering her ass, the other tugging aside her loose silk shorts to bare her sex.
    He hissed in a breath. Could dreams be this real? She couldn’t remember! She shouldn’t be feeling him leaning down, pressing his weight into the bed. To kiss her? Kiss her precisely where?
    His voice a broken rasp, he said, “ I want my mouth on you... ”
    Her eyes flashed open. She whirled to her side, slamming her free hand to the bottom of her sword hilt, flipping it up. It stabbed through the bedspread to rest under his chin. Holding it in place, she turned onto her back and shot up in bed, then gasped.
    She was half-naked, still breathing heavily, dazed by her arousal—and just in front of her, the vampire’s huge erection strained thick against his jeans.
    She swallowed, jerking her gaze up, but regretted catching his eyes. They burned with lust, and thought seemed to flee when she looked into them. But when he tried to peer down at her uncovered breasts, she shook herself and jabbed him.
    “Very well,” he conceded, raising his hands. “I might deserve that for touching you while you slept, but know that in the end, I thought you had woken.”
    “How long were you here?” she asked, her voice high.
    “Almost ten minutes.”
    She glanced past him and saw his sword laid across her bench, his jacket slung beside it. She just prevented her jaw from dropping. “Impossible.”
    “Bride, you keep saying that about things that have already occurred.”
    She couldn’t think! No vampire had ever taken her unaware. She slept lightly, had been trained to after years of battle. Yet she was supposed to believe she’d slept—and dreamed—through a leech’s fondling her?
    What was it about this particular vampire? Why can’t I run this sword through him? A tiny flex of her wrist would incapacitate him. Then an easy swing for the head.
    But she couldn’t because of the competition. Yeah, right, only that rascally competition prevents me.
    There was a reason that would completely explain why she couldn’t hurt him. But she refused to