“What happened here?” he asked, mouth very close to her ear. His hand paused over a small scar on her hip.

“My first and only attempt at skateboarding.”

He chuckled against her ear as his fingers caressed the scar. How could such a simple thing, a massage of an old wound, be so erotic?

His soapy hands moved back up her body and she almost cried out in protest. But when he squeezed and caressed her breasts, she moaned.

One in each hand, he massaged her, then slid his thumbs over her nipples. Like a shock, the sensation shot from her breasts to her sex, and her stomach clenched in response.

“Noah,” she managed.

“I want to taste you, Alice.” His chest rumbled against her back as he spoke, and his hand slid down to her core. She almost jumped when he touched her. He stroked her confidently, and every thought she might have had flew away as a rush of sensation overwhelmed her. The hot water streaming over her while he touched her so possessively made her ache so badly for him that she writhed against his hand.

Before she even realized she was moving, she stood on the other side of the shower. Noah lifted her leg and set it on a large ledge, near her soaps and shampoos. His shampoo bottle was under the sink, full of blood. The thought almost startled some sense in her, but then he knelt between her legs and she couldn’t think anymore.

His tongue touched her, the gentlest of touches. And she suddenly felt very exposed—spread out in front of him, under the too bright lights of the bathroom. Painful shyness hit her. “Noah, I don’t know if I can—”

“Shh…” His hand held her hip firmly, and his eyes raged like a storm when they met hers. So intense, she couldn’t look away. “You’re so fucking beautiful, do you know that? Do you even realize—” He shook his head. “Of course you don’t. But you will.”

She couldn’t understand the words. He’d called her beautiful, and the emotion in his voice was so strong she couldn’t even summon an argument. Or a polite platitude. Or even a thank you.

He lowered his head, and his mouth touched her again. He held her hips firmly. To keep her upright, she was sure. His tongue stroked her. So intimately. The explosion of sensation as he explored her pushed any shyness out of her head. She sucked in a lungful of steam, listening to hypnotic sound of the shower water hitting the tile.

“God, you taste so good. So sweet. I knew you would.” He stroked her softly, then harder. Licking, sucking, and nibbling. God, his fangs. They didn’t touch her, but were so close. The idea of it should have horrified her, she knew that. But instead, it pushed her even further, closer to bliss.

She used one hand to balance herself on the wall and gripped his hair with the other. She didn’t mean to pull it, but when he growled against her, she realized how hard she clutched him. But she couldn’t stop. If she relaxed, she didn’t think she’d ever come down from it.

One of his hands moved from her hip, and then she felt him push into her. One finger, stroking her inside as his mouth sucked on the center of her desire. Then two. Pushing in and out. His mouth, no longer gentle. His other hand, digging into her hips.

The orgasm hit her like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her body convulsed, and then she was standing only because he held her. His mouth stayed on her, coaxing aftershock after aftershock from her. And when her body finally stilled, he was there. His mouth on hers, the taste of her still on his tongue.

He drove his cock into her without warning. And the sensation of being so suddenly full rocked another orgasm from her. Mercilessly, he drove into her, holding her leg up to his hip. He pushed her closer and closer to the brink again. The thought that she shouldn’t be able to come again so soon hit her a split second before the orgasm did. She tensed in his arms, her body rocking. Her name fell from his lips, low and guttural, almost unrecognizable. And she felt him shudder against her, his face buried against her neck as he found his own release.

Chapter Seven

Sunlight streaming through the balcony door woke him. They’d forgotten to shut the curtains. The light didn’t touch his skin, but it pained his eyes to look at it. Alice snuggled into the crook of his arm, asleep and wearing one of his T-shirts. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead, smelling her hair as he did. Fruity shampoo. He was starting to really love the smell of shampoo.

His cock stirred, but he ignored it. After last night, she needed her rest. They both did. How long had they slept? He glanced at the clock. They’d definitely missed brunch. Maybe they’d be able to catch the family for a late lunch. He didn’t want to keep Alice from seeing her family at this joyful time.

He slipped out of the bed and she made a small noise of protest. But by the time he got across the room to close the drapes, she was sleeping again. A small snore escaped her and he stifled a laugh. The ocean slid by them, bright and beautiful. Too bright for a vampire. He slid the drapes closed.

He locked the bathroom door behind him and turned on the water in the sink. A long drink of blood from the shampoo bottle perked him up. Treated blood—originating from the blood bank with added chemicals to keep it from going bad outside of refrigeration—wasn’t anywhere near as good as the real thing, especially straight from the vein.

But that form of feeding brought its own headaches. For one, you had to mess with the memory of your victim in most cases, and that felt far too close to immoral for him to indulge in it except when absolutely necessary. Not that he hadn’t lived differently before. But those were different times, and he was a different man. And there were rules about it. The Council had rules for everything these days. Modern technology demanded it. It was too easy to be videotaped on a cell phone camera and end up on YouTube. Careful rules kept them all safe.

Feeling the weight of the bottle, he frowned and shook it. Empty. He must have drunk a bit more than he’d thought the day before. But it was okay. He still had a bottle of blood disguised as conditioner and a small emergency supply in what looked like a cologne bottle.

He brushed his teeth and his mind wandered to the night before. What a night. Had he ever felt such fire with a woman? No. Not even when he was still human. Not even with his wife—as brief as their marriage had been. He’d known her an even shorter amount of time than he’d known Alice.

His wife had been a woman of a different time. More reserved. Lovely and kind and giving. But she simply couldn’t deal with what he was. What she needed to become to be with him. But she hadn’t had Alice’s resilient character.

Alice was as passionate as he knew she’d be. Perfect in how she fit him, in how they both seemed to have an innate understanding of how the other liked to be touched. And her blood…a sharp stab of guilt hit him as he remembered the teasing taste of her blood on his tongue.

He hadn’t nicked her on purpose, but he certainly hadn’t pulled away when the sweet taste hit him. If anything, he’d milked her mouth for more. And despite the guilt, he hardened at the memory, and his fangs lengthened, pressing against his bottom lip.

Blood and sex weren’t always intertwined, but when they were, it was like nothing else in the world. He couldn’t help his desire for both, but he could control his actions.

With water from the sink, he wet his hair and smoothed it. She’d fulfilled his every need, except for his desire to plunge his fangs into her neck while he took her. He’d been able to stop himself. But never had he been so tempted. Sharing blood wasn’t something he could take lightly. There were laws that had to be upheld. Drinking blood from a living human was only permitted if the donor’s memory was fogged after. Sharing of blood was also allowed between vampires.

And of course, allowances were made for human mates—people who were transitioning into vampires.

He leaned against the counter, weight on his hands, and shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to bite her. No matter how much he ached to. Sex would have to be enough. And sex with Alice was better than blood and sex with anyone else, so he wasn’t exactly suffering.

Not that he had any intention of going back to their formerly platonic relationship. They couldn’t just be friends, not after last night. If that had ever been a real possibility. He hadn’t intended to sleep with her, and was more than a little irritated with his lack of control. But it had happened.

And maybe—just maybe—it didn’t have to end with the cruise.

He flashed his teeth in the mirror, and with a slight push in his mind, his fangs grew. No, he couldn’t tell her about himself, not right away. And he certainly couldn’t tell her about his impending nuptials. Trust wasn’t something that came easily to her, not after Brent. His hands fisted at the thought of her ex. She might take the whole “supposed to marry another person” thing the wrong way. If the vampire part didn’t send her screaming out the door first.

And it would. His wife’s face had faded from his memory. Odd, the things you forgot when enough time passed. He could still picture her, but her features had fuzzied. The exact shade of her eyes escaped him, and the line of her jaw.

But the horror in her expression after he explained what he was—after he’d proven to her he was a vampire—stayed with him. He couldn’t deal with that from Alice. He’d have to be sure of her first. Certain she’d at least give him a chance.

He could spend the rest of the cruise convincing her to trust him.

They needed to talk, at least. He had to make sure she knew he took this—and her—seriously. He’d meant what he said to Charles. Alice was not someone he’d just play around with. A lifetime commitment wasn’t something he could promise. She’d run for the hills when she found out what he was, and he couldn’t hide that from her for long if they spent enough time together. Even if he were very careful, it would only be a scant number of years before she would notice he never aged. But he couldn’t see not being with her—not being able to hold her, kiss her, touch her—anytime soon.

He slipped back under the covers, this time on the side she faced, and woke her with a quick peck on her nose. Her eyes opened slowly, fluttering before a slow, satisfied smile enveloped her face. The room warmed with that smile.




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