orgasm tipping her into a third. He stiffened against her and thrust a final time before following her over the edge and collapsing together, all warm limbs and nuzzling kisses. She lapped at his throat, closing the wound on instinct. Her fangs relaxed, losing their shape, and she lay there quivering.
He loves me more than himself. The depth of emotion she tasted in his blood, the loving memories he treasured—they filled her with wonder.
And terrified her.
What if she never remembered him?
Or worse, what if she did and she didn’t want him?
I left him once, didn’t I?
They lay wrapped up in each other, Richard’s face pressed against her throat. She trailed her fingers up and down his spine. She wanted to know every inch of him, to remember it the way he remembered her.
Why did I leave?
“Richard?” She whispered his name, softly and gentle. If he slept, she wanted him to sleep. Did vampires actually sleep?
He sighed and lifted his head. The troubled look in his eyes warned her that his mind traveled the same twisting path hers did. “Yes, my love?”
“What if I never remember?” No sense in holding her fear to her breast. Better to rip the bandage off and face it head on.
“You will.” Such confidence.
Lifting her brows, she trailed her fingers over his shoulder and up his neck to the spot she bit. No mark remained on his smooth, hot flesh. “You don’t know that. What if my memory is like this wound—gone, healed over and never to return?”
He shook his head once. “No. I will not accept that. A few days ago you didn’t even know you were a vampire. You didn’t have fangs. And yet here you are—you know you know me, you drank from me. What did you see when you did?”
“Me. I saw how you see me.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “You remember everything—and I’m a blank slate.”
“Not true.” Richard shifted, rolling onto his side and propping his head on a hand. His palm rubbed over her belly, warm and possessive. “You are still you. You are the woman you’ve always been. It’s all inside you—the quirky antics, devoted loyalty, playful mannerisms. You’re still my Kristina.”
She pushed his hand aside and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed. She needed to think and not just to roll him over and fuck his brains out again.
Although that idea held a certain appeal.
“I left you.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, staring unseeingly across the room to the leafy wallpaper with its exotic designs. “I walked out.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He was silent for so long, she thought he might not answer. He sighed, and the bed dipped as he moved. He rose and walked around. She tried not to watch the muscles ripple across his ass, but for a man—a vampire—who dressed in expensive suits, he cut a fine figure with nothing on his body.
Pouring a drink, he shot her a questioning glance, and she nodded. Her body hummed, whether from drinking his blood or the sex, she couldn’t really put her finger on the cause. He passed her a glass. She scented the coppery hints of blood. He’d been giving her blood steadily with every meal, but she couldn’t resent it.
She felt great.
“Why did I leave, Richard?”
“We argued. We often did.” He sighed and walked over to sit on the bed next to her. “You—you were always supportive of my business efforts. You even supported my bid to take New York. But the busier I became, the more you seemed to resent it.”
“And?”
“And one evening you wanted to go to some event. I couldn’t go because of a small crisis with some of the younglings who went too far. I needed to attend the situation. You were angry with me and demanded that I go, because I promised…” He grimaced and tossed back the drink.
“So you wouldn’t go to a party with me, and I walked out? What kind of shallow bitch was I?”
“You were not a shallow bitch.” His voice hardened, and he caught his hand around her neck, capturing her gaze with a
He loves me more than himself. The depth of emotion she tasted in his blood, the loving memories he treasured—they filled her with wonder.
And terrified her.
What if she never remembered him?
Or worse, what if she did and she didn’t want him?
I left him once, didn’t I?
They lay wrapped up in each other, Richard’s face pressed against her throat. She trailed her fingers up and down his spine. She wanted to know every inch of him, to remember it the way he remembered her.
Why did I leave?
“Richard?” She whispered his name, softly and gentle. If he slept, she wanted him to sleep. Did vampires actually sleep?
He sighed and lifted his head. The troubled look in his eyes warned her that his mind traveled the same twisting path hers did. “Yes, my love?”
“What if I never remember?” No sense in holding her fear to her breast. Better to rip the bandage off and face it head on.
“You will.” Such confidence.
Lifting her brows, she trailed her fingers over his shoulder and up his neck to the spot she bit. No mark remained on his smooth, hot flesh. “You don’t know that. What if my memory is like this wound—gone, healed over and never to return?”
He shook his head once. “No. I will not accept that. A few days ago you didn’t even know you were a vampire. You didn’t have fangs. And yet here you are—you know you know me, you drank from me. What did you see when you did?”
“Me. I saw how you see me.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “You remember everything—and I’m a blank slate.”
“Not true.” Richard shifted, rolling onto his side and propping his head on a hand. His palm rubbed over her belly, warm and possessive. “You are still you. You are the woman you’ve always been. It’s all inside you—the quirky antics, devoted loyalty, playful mannerisms. You’re still my Kristina.”
She pushed his hand aside and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed. She needed to think and not just to roll him over and fuck his brains out again.
Although that idea held a certain appeal.
“I left you.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, staring unseeingly across the room to the leafy wallpaper with its exotic designs. “I walked out.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He was silent for so long, she thought he might not answer. He sighed, and the bed dipped as he moved. He rose and walked around. She tried not to watch the muscles ripple across his ass, but for a man—a vampire—who dressed in expensive suits, he cut a fine figure with nothing on his body.
Pouring a drink, he shot her a questioning glance, and she nodded. Her body hummed, whether from drinking his blood or the sex, she couldn’t really put her finger on the cause. He passed her a glass. She scented the coppery hints of blood. He’d been giving her blood steadily with every meal, but she couldn’t resent it.
She felt great.
“Why did I leave, Richard?”
“We argued. We often did.” He sighed and walked over to sit on the bed next to her. “You—you were always supportive of my business efforts. You even supported my bid to take New York. But the busier I became, the more you seemed to resent it.”
“And?”
“And one evening you wanted to go to some event. I couldn’t go because of a small crisis with some of the younglings who went too far. I needed to attend the situation. You were angry with me and demanded that I go, because I promised…” He grimaced and tossed back the drink.
“So you wouldn’t go to a party with me, and I walked out? What kind of shallow bitch was I?”
“You were not a shallow bitch.” His voice hardened, and he caught his hand around her neck, capturing her gaze with a
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