Turner had seen his share of beautiful women. At a thousand dollars a visit, he'd gotten the best. But none of them could hold a candle to Bridget.

Not because she was more beautiful, and not even because she was smarter. Some of the beauties who'd graced his bed were working on their PhDs while supplementing their pitiful stipends with a little side job that paid extremely well.

But Bridget had that something extra, a one in a million quality he hadn't encountered in anyone yet.

Maybe later, when the blood flow left his nether regions and returned to his brain, he would try to analyze it and figure out what made her so special and what that something extra was.

Right now he was on a different mission, because for once his overactive mind had given priority to his physical body.

Surprisingly, Turner couldn't care less that his highly prized mental faculties were temporarily compromised by his lust for this amazing woman. Some primitive instincts that he hadn't been aware of were taking over, and it felt right.

"I want to kiss those lips again." He lay down sideways and pulled her to him, chest to chest, her soft breasts pressed against his hard muscles, her stiff nipples rubbing against his pecs.

Reaching with his hand, he cupped one, enjoying the supple give as he thumbed the nipple. It had been a while since he'd held a breast this large that was free of artificial enhancements. His hand was big, with long fingers, and yet her breast overflowed it.

Bridget moaned and rubbed against him, her other breast begging for attention.

To take care of both, he needed her on her back.

With a light push and roll, he positioned himself on top of her and kissed her long and hard while kneading both pliable globes.

The problem was that in this position this cock was nestled between her thighs, dangerously close to where it desperately wanted to be.

If he wanted to enjoy all of what this magnificent woman had to offer, he needed to separate those magnetic forces.

Sliding down her body, he took one ruby-colored nipple between his lips and sucked it into his mouth.

Bridget hissed, her body arching off the bed.

He repeated the same with her other one. But as lovely as her breasts were, the heat coming off the juncture between her thighs was calling to him. He needed his fingers and his mouth down there like he needed to take his next breath.

Bridget was a petite woman. Maybe he could take care of both at the same time.

Her breasts cupped in his hands, he slid further down her body, kissing and licking along the way to his coveted destination.

The scent of her desire was like an aphrodisiac, making him half-crazed with the need to taste her. It must've been imbued with pheromones, something that was unique to immortal females, because Turner couldn't remember ever reacting to a woman's scent like that before.

Hell, he couldn't remember ever feeling so crazed for a woman, needing her with almost animalistic ferocity, or wanting to possess her in every way possible and some that were not.

Powerful pheromones, that was the only logical explanation. The thing was, before today Turner hadn't believed in the power of pheromones, not between humans. He'd thought it was another urban legend.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Welcoming, Bridget parted her legs to give him better access and arched an inch or two off the bed in a blatant invitation.

He appreciated a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't bashful about it. The few dates he'd been on could've been more tolerable if the women had just told him what they needed from him.

Closing his eyes, he extended his tongue and licked along her slit, getting his first taste of her nectar. The concentration of pheromones in her lubricant must've been off the charts because it made him lightheaded as if he'd overdone it with alcohol.

Like an addict, he ignored the dizziness and went for more, wedging his tongue into her opening and scooping up her juices as if they were the fabled ambrosia of the gods.

Perhaps they were. After all, Bridget was a descendant of those gods.

The guttural noises she was making sounded more demonic than angelic, but they were music to his ears.

Like a man possessed, he couldn't have enough of her. His hands on her breasts, teasing her nipples, tugging and pinching, his lips and his tongue busy devouring her, Turner wished for another set of hands so he could touch more of her, another set of lips so he could kiss her mouth.

More. More. More.

Madness.

Divine madness.

Bridget's climax exploded from her with a feline roar that reverberated from the walls, her body bucking up with such force that she would've flung him all the way to the floor if he hadn't clamped his arms around her and used his entire weight to keep her down.

It took several long moments for her tremors to subside. He eased his hold on her and planted a gentle kiss on her belly.

Bridget put her hand on his bald head, caressing it. "I think you made a bad bargain. I should be the one paying you."

As he lifted his eyes to her bliss-suffused face, Turner couldn't hide the expression of deep satisfaction he felt for bringing her to such intense orgasm. He'd never thought it was possible, but pleasuring this woman felt as good as or better than bringing an impossible mission to a successful conclusion.

Not that he thought Bridget had any trouble orgasming, but he'd doubted she experienced such powerful ones often.

"I've never thought I could climax like that with a human male. You're an extraordinary lover, Victor."

The words would've made any man swell with pride, and Turner wasn't immune, but he couldn't take the full credit for what had just happened between them. Their chemistry was off the chart.

Hell, it was alchemy—chemistry mixed with magic.

"Thank you. But it was you. I've never experienced anything like that with anyone else."

"Me neither." She cupped his cheek, her hooded eyes still full of passion and some tender feeling he couldn't decipher. "This was just the prelude. I have a feeling the main act is going to be epic."