“Where are we?”

He grinned. “This, Beatrice, is the vampire equivalent of my childhood room.”

“What?” She laughed. “You stayed here?”

“Yes, after my sire’s death, I stayed here with Livia for around ten years or so, getting my bearings, meeting the right people. She wanted me to stay longer, but...”

“I’m surprised she kept it for you.”

They reached the top of the stairs, which opened onto a richly appointed library with curved bookcases that lined the walls. Narrow windows looked out over the park and the full moon shone through.

He left her in the center of the room and walked around, tracing a hand along the bookcases, which had not a hint of dust.

“She wants me to move back, you know?”

“I know.”

He laughed low in his throat. “As if anything here could tempt me.” He looked over his shoulder to see her looking around in wonder. The room looked like the fairytale version of a tower library, complete with dark oak cabinetry, velvet armchairs, and a fireplace he took a moment to light.

“It’s sure beautiful. This whole place is.”

He turned to her, watching as she took it all in. The gold leaf picture frames and jeweled clocks. There was a Faberge egg on a side table and a Lalique decanter with the finest whiskey. He had seen it all before, and he only had eyes for his wife.

“Beautiful.”

He circled her, slowly drawing closer as her busy eyes memorized the room. “Yeah, everything’s gor—”

He darted in and stopped her mouth with a kiss. “Beautiful.”

She smiled, strangely shy in the opulent surroundings. “Gio, this is still so—”

“Fake.” He looked around, then placed his hands around her waist and looked into her eyes. “Real.”

She nodded in understanding, and Giovanni leaned down, drawing her mouth into a leisurely kiss. They stood in the center of the tower as the moonlight streamed in the windows and the faint sounds of the party drifted to their ears. He nipped at her lips, tasting them and enjoying the sweet wine that lingered.

His hands roamed down to cup her bottom, and he lifted her against his body. Their kisses grew heated, and Giovanni felt her heart begin to beat against his chest. Her hands tugged at his neck and he could scent her arousal as it filled the room. It was heady, intoxicating. He wanted nothing more than to feel her skin on his and her flesh against his tongue.

“You were right,” he murmured in between soft bites of her swollen mouth.

“About?”

He backed her up against the nearest bookcase, propping her on the edge of one deep shelf as his hands stroked down her legs, fingers teasing under the edge of her boots to tickle the sensitive skin behind her knee.

“Hoop skirts would make this problematic.”

“I think ahead that way,” she panted.

“Beatrice...” He hissed as his hands clutched at her thighs. Beatrice’s fingers tugged at the laces of his pants, as her other hand stroked him through the thick fabric. He bit back a groan when her hand closed around him. Desire? He had never known desire until he had known her.

“Now,” she whispered. “Gio, I need you.”

One hand reached up to the nape of her neck, angling Beatrice’s mouth to his as the other pulled at the drawstring that held her leggings tight. His hand slipped under the fabric and searched for her heat as she bit down on his lower lip.

Feeling how ready she was, he freed himself and drove into her with one swift stroke. Her satisfied cry echoed off the cold stone of the tower library, but Giovanni didn’t care who heard them. He pulled back and gave her a wicked smile. He’d dreamt about taking her in this room for years.

A few books fell to the floor as they moved faster, and his hand reached back to cradle her head so it wasn’t bashed against the hard oak shelves. He dove back toward her mouth, swallowing the cries of pleasure as he drove her toward the edge.

“I love you,” he whispered as she clenched around him. “I love you so much.”

Beatrice’s fingers dug into his shoulders. He could feel the painful dig of her nails, but he stared into her eyes as the pleasure blinded her. His hand gripped her bare thigh. If she hadn’t have been a vampire, they would have left bruises.

He felt his own climax approaching and slowed, pressing his mouth to hers and pouring his pleasure into their kiss as his amnis flooded her body. He felt her hands reach up to frame his face, and her own energy flowed over his skin in a soft wave. He closed his eyes and came with a groan.

Giovanni laid his head on her shoulder and put his arms around her waist, pulling Beatrice closer as their hearts beat in unison. He could feel her stroke his hair, running her fingers along his neck where she drew the moisture against his skin, cooling him as he relaxed into her touch.

“I love you, Jacopo,” she whispered.

He matched her breaths and laid soft kisses along her neck.

“I wish I could write as my uncle did.” He pulled away and looked into her eyes, sparkling with love and satisfaction. “I don’t have the words, Tesoro mio.”

She smiled at him anyway and pulled him down for one more quick kiss before he set her down on the floor. They righted their clothing, smiling and sneaking glances toward the stairs and the sounds of the party.

“Do we have to go back?” she asked.

Giovanni grinned. “Unfortunately, yes.” He pulled up his pants and quickly tied the strings that held them in place, shaking his head the whole time. “I hated wearing these clothes when they were in fashion.”