Immortals After Dark 03 - No Rest for the Wicked

whispered in a dazed tone, her breaths growing hectic.
    Could he possibly stop with only that? With an unsteady hand, he cupped the back of her head, about to draw her to him. Surely she was strong enough to take him—she was some sort of warrior and would likely be quick to check him if he hurt her.
    For some reason, he sensed she wouldn’t give him that teary, betrayed look women had cast him in the past if he’d accidentally stepped on their toes or collided with them coming around a street corner, that look that brought him so low.
    “Vampire, please,” she murmured, “make it worth it. Make it... ”
    When their lips touched, he groaned; electricity seemed to prick at his skin. He pulled back from her. “My God.” Nothing had ever felt so powerful, so right, as this kiss. Her hungry expression deepened.
    If it took becoming a vampire to have just this one perfect moment, would he suffer it again?
    When he kissed her again, lightly at first, she moaned, “More,” against his lips.
    He clutched her tightly in his arms, then somehow remembered himself. No, fool... He eased his hold.
    At once, her claws bit into the backs of his arms, making him shudder. “Don’t hold back. I need more .”
    She needed more, needed him to give it to her. Because she was... his. When this finally sank in, his shyness burned away. In the course of a heartbeat, he now had a woman of his own. He wanted to roar with triumph. The feel of her claws sinking into him—as if she feared he would get away—was ecstasy. She needs me.
    “Kiss me more, vampire. If you stop, I’ll kill you.”
    He couldn’t help but grin against her lips. A female threatening him if he should stop kissing her?
    So he did, tasting her tongue, teasing it, then claiming her mouth hotly, wetly. He savored the slow undulation of her hips against him, in time with each thrust of his tongue.
    He kissed her with all the passion long denied him, with all the hope that had been wrenched from him returning. Weariness of life had just been replaced by purpose—because of her. He let her know how thankful he was... by kissing her until she panted and sagged against him.
    Yet he was losing control. Impulses came for him to do things to her body, wicked things, and he knew that soon he would obey them. “I’ll always give you more, until I die.”
    And now, for the first time in three hundred hellish years, Sebastian desperately wanted to live.

3
    A s if she’d been hurled down from a great height, all the emotions lost to Kaderin, denied to her for the last millennium, crashed into her. Fear, joy, longing, and an undeniable sexual hunger warred within her—until he stoked her lust hot enough to drown out all other feelings.
    She was reeling, confused. All she knew for certain was that she needed release so badly her yearning pained her, made her whimper. And each of his fierce, possessive kisses increased her agony.
    As she threaded her fingers through his thick, tousled hair, she couldn’t think, couldn’t begin to reason out why this was happening to her. Inexplicable wants wracked her—to lick his skin, to have his body pressing heavily on hers.
    She brought her parted lips to his neck, kissing up from his collar. In turn, he thrust his erection against her, as if he couldn’t help himself, then seemed to be willing himself not to do it again. But she was thrilled to find his shaft was huge and rigid, insistent against her. It made her body grow wet, wanting it.
    Unable to stop herself, she flicked her tongue out to taste his skin. Sensation spiked within her, and she moaned. Had any male ever tasted so good? His taste made her body react with animal needs so strong, she twitched as she resisted them. She wanted to rip his jeans from him, take that thick shaft in both hands, and lick its length in a frenzy.
    Imagining that made her roll her hips against him, and after a shuddering hesitation he met her. He hissed in a breath and rumbled foreign words in her ear. The entire castle shook—from her lightning, a Valkyrie’s lightning produced by her emotion.
    Lightning, pleasure of any kind, had been denied her for so long.
    She knew this was forbidden, knew she would regret it, but at that moment, she didn’t care. For some unknown reason, she’d been granted a window of opportunity with this male, enabling her to know passion once more. Just once more, that was all she wanted, before cold and nothingness crept over her again...
    So she took his