I'm staring up at a naked, fully aroused vampire. Blooded and in his prime.

She felt giddy, as drunk as she'd been during their first encounter. The sight of him like this not only aroused her, it delighted her.

The fire was to his right, illuminating his glistening skin, shadows and light at play. Under her gaze, every sinew of muscle contracted, rippling. Water streams licked over every mighty rise, over every rigid fall.

Drops sluiced down his chest to his navel, meeting at that dusky trail of hair leading down, down.

When her gaze followed, he said in a gravelly voice, "This is what you do to me, Bett." His accent was thicker than she'd ever heard it.

She was transfixed by his erection-again, giddy. Her peek had been just the tip of the iceberg. So to speak. At the thought, a laugh escaped her.

Which made him scowl and cross his arms.

Had she actually tried to convince herself that she would view him as a subject of study?

Uh-huh. For my art.

She couldn't even think that with a straight face.

"Strange little sorceress," he suddenly murmured in a wondering tone. "You're . . . happy."

She gave an absent nod and began lovingly taking in every detail of his manhood.

Crisp black hair circled the base. Just below it, his heavy sac tightened before her eyes. The shaft was veined, the skin so taut. The engorged head strained toward her, as if toward her parted lips.

What would it be like to feel that firm crown at her mouth, like a plum warmed in the sun? She grazed her fingertips over her lips as she imagined it. Would the vampire shudder and groan if she pressed her tongue against him there?

"Ah, Bettina, your eyes go light," he rasped. "Have you looked your fill?" Were his legs quaking?

My fill? No. Not at all.

Planes, textures, colors? Proportion! His body taken all together was a tableau of perfection-a masterpiece she needed to appreciate more fully.

One that was making her wetter than she'd ever been in her entire life.

He inhaled deeply, and his body shot even tighter with tension. Could he tell how he affected her? Of course, he would scent her.

What would he do next? She wished she had more experience with these things.

"The way you look at me, woman . . . I could come under your glittering gaze. I wager my merry sorceress would like to see that."

She'd only felt it in her hand before. Form and function. She thrilled to watch her creations work, to perform as intended. She wanted to see this part of him . . . release. "Now that you mention-"

He scooped her up. In an instant, she was weightless, traced to his bed.

"Oh! What are you going to do?"

His words like a growl, he answered, "Pleasure you." He covered her with his big wet body, wrapping his brawny arms around her as his lips descended to hers.

And it felt wondrous.

This time she didn't break away, didn't deny him. When he touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, she parted them, letting him taste her.

She knew there was a reason she shouldn't be in bed, kissing a naked vampire, but her thoughts were still scrambled from the sight of him.

Against her lips, he said, "Zeii, I've craved your kiss, all this long day. Craved more of what I found in your bed."

"Was last night really the first time you . . . ?"

"Came?" he groaned the word. "First time in centuries."

"Did it . . . did it feel good?" Was I too clumsy? Too inexperienced?

"Ah, gods, female, it felt very good." He licked at her lips. "Your soft little palm wrung me dry. I can't even look at your hands without getting hard." With that, he took her mouth totally, those firm lips claiming hers. Sensuous flicks of his tongue coaxed hers to meet him.

She did eagerly, but he kept their kiss slow, fierce-devastating. How could he be so good at this after so long without?

Each stroke of his wicked tongue drew her ardor to the fore, making her wild for him. She wriggled her body closer to his, to his warmth and palpable strength.

Were his hands busy at her waist? Ah, her sarong. Oh, gone!

His kisses stifled any halfhearted protests she could have managed. Had he just wedged his hips between her thighs?

Yes! That glorious shaft pressed over her panties, its length like a brand from her mons past her navel.

More kisses, more movement. Her arms were over her head. Wrists briefly in his fist? A whisper of sensation on her br**sts?

He'd removed her top? Yes, cool air tickled her ni**les-until the hot, slick skin of his chest shoved against her naked br**sts. She moaned into the kiss.

When he hooked a finger around the side of her thong, she comprehended that it was the only barrier left between them. She jerked her head back. In a strangled voice, she said, "Vampire, my panties!"

"Off! Yes, dragă . . ."

"No, they stay!"

With a rumbling sound of disappointment, he flexed his hips. His erection rode over the silk, over her mons, leaving utter pleasure in its wake.

"Doesn't matter. I'm still going to make you come, female." He gave another thrust that rubbed right over her clitoris. As she cried out, he said, "And when you do, I want you to moan my name."

His deep-toned voice and commanding words were like a stroke over every part of her. The hot pressure of his shaft was heavy on her clitoris. She rocked against it for more heat, more friction.

More anything. Desperate, she undulated her hips-just as he drew his back. His penis slipped down to prod right at her entrance, stayed only by the silk.