Night's Pleasure by Amanda Ashley Page A

grief or stress for mortals to seek forgetfulness, either by drinking themselves into oblivion, or indulging in the primal urge to mate, not as an act of love but of renewal.
    Drawing Savanah into his embrace, he kissed her gently, but she didn’t want gentle. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, slid one hand behind his neck, and kissed him as if her life and her sanity depended on it. And maybe they did, he mused, as he deepened the kiss.
    He trailed his hands over her body, his own absorbing her heat. She was young, her skin smooth and firm, supple as she writhed against him. He slid his hand under her nightgown, his fingertips sliding up her calf, lightly massaging the smooth skin of her thigh, her belly, the underside of one breast. Her moan was one of pleasure and invitation.
    He rose over her, his nostrils flaring. She smelled of toothpaste and soap, of woman and musk. It was a powerful combination, but stronger still was the steady beat of her heart, the constant lure of her life’s blood flowing just beneath the surface of her heated flesh.
    He closed his eyes against the temptation to lower his head to her neck; instead he brushed a kiss across her cheek and tasted the salt of her tears.
    Rane swore softly. He had done a lot of despicable things in his life, but he had never violated a woman who was grieving for the loss of a loved one. She might want him tonight, but she would hate him tomorrow, just as she would surely hate him when she knew the truth about his existence.
    â€œSavanah, you should get some rest.”
    â€œDon’t you want me?” She ran her hands over his chest, lightly, provocatively.
    â€œOf course, but…” He groaned as her hand dropped lower, covering his arousal.
    â€œThen take me,” she whispered.
    And because it was what she wanted, because he wasn’t made of stone, he caressed her until she was on the brink and then he sheathed himself deep inside her.
    There was a moment of resistance. A telling moment that had Rane cursing himself as he realized he was the first man Savanah had taken to her bed. It touched something deep within him, something he had thought forever dead.
    And then she murmured his name, her voice whisper-soft, filled with love and need, and in that instant, he knew he would willingly sacrifice his life and everything he possessed to protect the woman in his arms.

Chapter Ten
    He stood looking out the window, a glass of expensive whiskey in one hand, his eyes narrowed as he watched her cross the room. “Well, is it done?”
    â€œJust like all the others,” she replied with a toss of her head.
    â€œDid you have any trouble getting into the house?”
    She crossed her arms over her breasts and then, shoulders slumped, she looked up at him out of eyes swimming with tears. “What do you think?” she asked, sniffling.
    He chuckled softly. He defied any man, human or otherwise, to resist her when she looked so pathetic, so helpless. “Ah, Tasha, I was a fool to doubt you.”
    She basked in his praise. “I don’t understand you. What do you hope to gain by this?”
    â€œI intend to accomplish what we failed to achieve in the war.”
    She closed the distance between them. “What do you mean?”
    â€œWhy, the destruction of all the Vampires, of course.”
    â€œThen why kill the hunters?” she asked, frowning.
    â€œBecause they don’t just hunt Vampires.”
    â€œI see,” she murmured, though she didn’t see at all. But then, it wasn’t important. She was in love with him. She would do anything he asked.
    â€œDid you find the books?”
    â€œNo. What made you think Gentry had them?”
    â€œJust a hunch.”
    â€œWhy do you want them?”
    â€œBecause they’re valuable. One of them contains an updated list of hunters. It would be a handy thing to have, don’t you think?”
    â€œI suppose so.”
    â€œThe other one