As she speared her fingers through his long hair, and urged him ever closer to her naked skin, he tore the shirt he’d borrowed in half, buttons popping off and bouncing over the tile floor, the silk ripping. He was no kinder with the slacks, yanking, jerking—

Finally, they were naked.

Under the warm spray, he found her lips again as his hands coasted over the curves of her body. Knowing this was probably his last time with her—even though it was only his third, if he counted right—he took his time, cupping her ass, kneading the flesh.

His fangs extended, and he wanted to go for her neck. But he held off.

Kneeling in front of her, he kissed his way down her abdomen, teasing her belly button with his tongue, cupping her breasts as he stared up at her.

“My Sarah …” he groaned as he circled her thigh with his hand. “Give me what I want.”

Lifting her leg, he put it over his shoulder and went in, leading with his tongue, delving into her sex, worshiping her with his mouth. Over the fall of the water, he heard her cry his name and then she fell back into the bench.

Perfect. He had more access this way.

He pleasured her with his mouth until she orgasmed against his lips, her hips undulating, her core kissing him back as she came. And he didn’t let her stop. There was too much to learn, especially as he added his long fingers, penetrating her, finding a new rhythm.

He watched her the entire time, her head back, the water falling, warm rain, on her closed eyes, her open mouth, her tight nipples and full breasts.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And he wished they had more time.

Sarah stretched her arms up the warm tile of the shower and let her head go loose. She could not remember ever being so free with her body. She wasn’t thinking about whether her breasts had fallen off to the sides, or when she had shaved under her arms last, or if the man between her legs was pleasuring her because he thought he needed to in that way as opposed to actually wanted to.

She had nothing in her mind except the sensation of his fingers going in and out of her and the way that incredible tongue of his lapped around the top of her sex … and then she looked down to see what he was doing.

As she met his bright peach eyes, there were too many orgasms to count that followed.

And then he stopped.

Rousing herself, she lifted her seven-hundred-pound head and tried to focus—

He was smiling at her. And not in a Mr. Lover-Lover way. In a you-are-beautiful way.

She wanted to smile back. But she noticed how long his fangs were. How hungry his eyes were. How intense his scent was.

Sitting up, but keeping her legs spread, she parted his mouth with her forefinger and stroked one of his long canines.

“I want to know what it’s like.” When he immediately shook his head, she said, “This is my only chance. And I know you want it, too.”

His broad chest, with its strange circular scar, started to pump, and that purr vibrated up his throat. “Sarah …”

Resuming her sprawl on the bench, she tilted her head to the side, exposing her jugular. “Take me.”

There was no way to adequately describe the erotic way his lips parted and the razor-sharp tips of his fangs flashed in the overhead light.

“I won’t take too much,” he vowed in a guttural voice.

“I know. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

She shook her head sadly. “I will always have more faith in you than you do.”

His eyes glowed neon as he moved up her body, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss. And then, between her legs, she felt him enter her again—but not with his arousal. It was his fingers, again. Two of them. Sliding in and out.

She should have been satiated by now, but he made her ravenous all over again.

And just as she began orgasming once more, he broke off from the kiss, and she braced herself for the penetration at her throat.

The strike did not come at her neck.

As the rhythmic constrictions of her sex filled her whole body with starbursts of ecstasy, she felt a blazing pain on the inside of her leg, where her thigh joined her torso … barely an inch from her pulsating core.

Crying out, her lids popped wide and she looked down to see his head lowered.

He was in her skin, in her vein, and oh, God, he started sucking, his satin lips pulling at the puncture wounds, his red-and-black hair fanning over her hips, his fingers still going in and out of her—

There were no words to describe what she felt, the overload of sensation taking her to another plane of existence, liberating her out of her corporeal form, sending her to heaven. The pain where his fangs had entered her was sharp as a knife and it reignited with every swallow he took, but the pleasure was a roar, a wildfire, all-consuming in its intensity and duration.

Sometime later, he lifted his head. His eyes were worried.

“More …” she said roughly. “I want more …”

That purr from him was so loud, it drowned out the fall of the water, and then he peeled back his lips and flashed his fangs.

This time, when he struck, she knew what to expect and she was greedy for the twin stings, well aware of the incredible pleasure that came next. He did not disappoint. More of that volcanic passion came back, otherworldly, unbelievable.

She was with another creature, something other than human. An entity capable of killing her.

Vampire.

And she loved him.

Murhder only wanted to keep going. He wanted to drink from his Sarah, right next to her sex, so close he could taste her core along with her blood, for the rest of his life and hers.

But he would never endanger her.

He had to force himself to release her sweet flesh, her delicious vein—but he was rewarded with an incredible sight. Lifting his head, he found her in the thralls of ecstasy, her breasts tight, her cheeks flushed, her boneless legs loose and totally open to him.

He would keep this image of her for however long he had.

But then he had to take care of her. Her blood welled at the puncture marks he had made—the second set—and he felt the hunger for her vein rise in him again. But no. He would seal her up and give her more pleasure and then they would sit together under the warm water, holding on to each other … until the time came for him to try the drug.

Lowering himself back to where he had been, he extended his tongue and drew it up the twin marks he’d made in her. Lapping. Sucking. Making sure that they had closed and then licking into her sex some more just because he couldn’t get enough of there, either.

Then he reared up over her, his much larger body dominating her graceful form, the predator claiming what he wanted, what he needed.

Gripping his cock, he put his head at her core and sank in deep, pushing in hard. Her breasts registered the penetration, gleaming under the spray as they moved with a bump, and he touched them, caressing the nipples with his thumbs.

Gritting his teeth, he pumped hard into her, her sex’s hold tight on him even as the rest of her was lovely-loose. Reaching up to one of the rails screwed into the wall, he grabbed on tight, using it as a way to go even harder.

Just before he started to come, he pulled out and sprayed her sex, her lower body, even her breasts with his scent. Marking her. And then he reentered her and filled her up from the inside, too.

Murhder went for longer than he ever had. And when he finally kicked out a final last release, he collapsed without warning, clonking himself a good one in the head on that rail. Not that he cared.