“Stefan,” she moaned.

  “Will you give yourself to me? Will you trust me?”

  His large body curved around her, covering but not touching her except for the occasional brush of his fingers. She could smell him all around her. His scent was intoxicatingly male, hot, and exotic. Laurel Rose was too far gone to reply any other way but, “Yes.”

  Even though she was expecting it, the feel of his hands on her behind made her jump. Spreading his fingers wide, he kneaded the supple flesh before sliding his thumbs into the crease. One of his thumbs brushed against the tight puckered opening, making her gasp. It felt strange and yet pleasurable at the same time. His hands continued downward as he spread her sex wide.

  “So hot and pink and mine.” He shifted closer and inserted the blunt tip of his penis inside her. She tried to shove her hips back, wanting more of him, but he held her captive with his hands. “You are mine, aren’t you, Laurel Rose?”

  “Yes,” she cried. His fingers dug into her sides and he drove himself deep in one single stroke. Pain and pleasure combined to make her light-headed. She was tight and he was so big that taking him was difficult. But she wanted him anyway. Wanted the closeness and the pleasure she knew would follow.

  He sucked in a deep breath and held himself still. For that she was grateful. Her body quickly became accustomed to his until just having him inside her was no longer enough. She pulled her hips slightly forward and then pushed them back against him.

  He emitted a low growl, grabbed her hips, and began to fuck her. The feel of his rigid cock sliding almost all the way out of her tight channel before slamming back in again was absolutely incredible. Laurel Rose bit her lip to keep from screaming out her pleasure. Every time he pulled away from her, she clenched her inner muscles, not wanting him to leave her. Then he rammed his cock into her so deep she was surprised she didn’t explode.

  She lost all power to think, focusing only on the intimate connection between them. Both of them moving in a rhythm, a dance older than time, reaching for completion. His hand fisted around her braid and the slight tug arched her neck back. A light sheen of sweat coated her skin. She could hear the slap of their flesh as their bodies came together over and over. The bed squeaked and groaned with every thrust. Her right leg began to ache, protesting being in such an unnatural position for so long. She tried to straighten it, hoping, praying it wouldn’t cramp. She was so close to coming.

  Stefan slid his hands over her hips and around to her front. He slid one down to cover her mound. The other went in the opposite direction, stopping only when it cupped her breast. He pinched her nipple between this thumb and forefinger and at the same time stroked her swollen clit. Her cry of pleasure bounced off the walls.

  He quickened his strokes, keeping them short and hard. He slammed into her over and over, while at the same time teasing her with his fingers. It was too much for her to stand and she came apart beneath him.

  Her body spasmed, her entire body electrified. She felt surrounded by him, filled by him as she came. Her inner muscles clutched at his cock, but he continued to drive into her, getting closer to his own release. The bedsprings creaked and the headboard slammed against the wall with the power of his thrusts.

  When his orgasm hit, it shook her to her very core. The hard plunge of his cock as he drove into her one final time, the hot jet of semen within her as he came and the heaving of his body made her spasm all over again. His arms banded around her so tight she could feel the heavy beat of his heart against her back.

  Her arms finally gave out and she collapsed on the mattress, burying her face in her pillow. She felt absolutely wonderful and totally boneless. Stefan gave one final growl of pleasure and collapsed on top of her, his body draped over hers like a blanket.

  She stretched out her right leg and absently rubbed her hand over the aching thigh. A deep contentment filled her, unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life. A feeling of rightness welled up inside her. Stefan was her man, for better or worse. She knew that deep in her bones as surely as she knew the sun would rise in the morning.

  He stirred behind her like a sleeping giant awakening from his slumber. She couldn’t hold back a moan when he shifted position, the action sliding his still rock-hard erection within her. Wiggling, she tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe that Stefan could possibly still be aroused after two orgasms, but the facts spoke for themselves. His cock was still pulsing deep in her core and her own contentment was fading, replaced by an even deeper yearning than before.

  He skimmed his lips over her shoulder and neck. He nibbled on her nape, sending a shiver racing down her spine. “Will you give me what I want, what I yearn for?” He traced his tongue over the whorls of her ear, and she tilted her neck to give him better access.

  Laurel Rose sensed he wanted more from her. More than she could even imagine. But whatever it was, she wanted to give it to him, sensed that she was the only one who could satisfy whatever deep longings lived within him.

  “Take what you need.” He stilled at her words and she lay there, open and vulnerable and waiting.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stefan closed his eyes and uttered an oath under his breath. Laurel Rose didn’t know what she was offering him, but he planned to take it anyway. There was no way he could stop now. The bloodlust was rising within him. Like an animal caged far too long, it growled and clawed for release.

  She’d given her body to him without reservation and it had been even better than he’d imagined it could be. The physical and mental connection between them made sex more satisfying than anything he’d ever experienced in his long life. She’d taken his cock into her sweet mouth and given him pleasure. Then she’d taken him into her body, freely and openly, giving him what he needed. Now she was putting her very life in his hands, offering him her blood.

  His fangs elongated. His cock grew, expanding even larger than before as bloodlust made his sexual appetite greater. His senses heightened his emotions, threatening to push him over the edge into oblivion, where nothing mattered but satisfying his own need. He tried to claw them back and control them. It would destroy him if he hurt her.

  The smell of sex perfumed the air around them. The heavier aroma of his release mingled with the spicy scent of her arousal. Their hearts beat in tandem. He used his forearms to keep the bulk of his weight off her as he traced a wet path with his tongue from her ear to the nape of her neck. Her skin was salty and warm. The sound of the blood pumping through her veins called to him like the sweetest song, urging him to take, to taste, to feed.

  He gripped the tail of her braid in his fist and wrapped it around his wrist. He would never let her go. She moaned when he scraped his teeth over her flesh. The small sound made his balls harden. Stefan struck, sinking his fangs deep into her flesh where her neck and shoulder met.

  Laurel Rose jerked in his arms, the slight pain catching her unawares. He sensed her confusion and growing unease, and when she started to struggle, he growled and automatically tightened his grip on her.

  There was no escape. For either of them.

  The moment his teeth pierced her flesh, her blood hit his mouth, filling it as he drank deep. Pure ecstasy. He’d never tasted blood as fine in his life. Sweet and intoxicating, it flowed down his throat and soaked into every cell of his body, rejuvenating him and quieting the never-ending hunger that burned in his gut.

  Like a man dying of thirst, he drank.

  The beast within him demanded that he dominate her, claim her in every way, mark her as his. With one hand still gripping her hair, he kept her head tilted back so he could feed. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and levered her back up until she was on her hands and knees once again, suspended in his grip.

  Stefan pulled back his hips and began to fuck her once again. Driving his cock hard into her body, he sought completion. This time there was no thought for her comfort or pleasure—only the driving instinct to claim.

  Her soft cry of distress hit him like a stake to the heart, shattering him completely. What was he doing? Appalled at his actions, he held his body still. Her tight channel clutched at his erection, making it almost impossible for him to think straight.

  He carefully withdrew his fangs, automatically licking the small puncture holes in her neck with his tongue and healing them instantly. He was so close to coming, he had to grit his teeth as her inner muscles continued to clench around him.

  She was wheezing hard, fighting to draw air into her lungs. In his greed, he had taken far too much blood from her. Stefan withdrew from her body, his sexual need gone in the face of her distress. He unwound her hair from around his wrist and turned her unresisting body over on the mattress.

  He stared down at her pale face. Her skin was cold. He yanked one of the covers off the bed and wrapped it around her. There was no condemnation in her eyes as they fluttered open and stared at him—only confusion and a deep tiredness. When her eyelids slowly closed, as if they were too heavy for her to keep them open, sheer terror gripped him. Lifting her into his arms, he cradled her tight to his chest. Her heartbeat was way too slow and he could feel her life force ebb.

  Anger and disgust filled him at his disregard for her well-being. Laurel Rose was his woman and, as such, her safety and happiness came above all. Swiftly, he slashed his wrist with a fingernail that lengthened and sharpened upon his command. The claw opened a wound that began to seep blood.

  Cradling her head in the crook of his arm, he pressed his wrist to her mouth. “Drink,” he commanded. He put every ounce of his strength into the compulsion and was still surprised at how much she resisted even though she was so weak. Her strength of will was incredibly strong but still no match for his. “Drink,” he repeated.

  At first he thought she’d fight him, but her lips finally parted. He sighed with relief and kissed the top of her head. Under his watchful eyes, she drank. When he was satisfied that she’d had enough to replenish her, he stopped her, tilting her head back against his arm so he could look at her. He ignored the slash on his wrist, absently licking the wound with his tongue, not noticing when it swiftly began to heal itself.

  Laurel Rose slumped against him, totally exhausted and almost asleep. But he was satisfied that her heartbeat was stronger and her life force was vibrant once more. Her breath was coming much easier now and the color was returning to her face. Satisfied that he’d done all he could for now, he pulled back the covers and carefully laid her down on the bed.

  He stretched out next to her and settled her head against his chest. The soft puffs of her breath teased his skin. He kissed her forehead. “Sleep,” he commanded her. There were still several hours before dawn and she needed some rest after her ordeal. Her hand rested on his chest, her palm covering his heart and her fingers tangling in the short dark hairs sprinkled over his upper torso.

  She was his now. His blood would strengthen her. They were connected in a way that could never be broken. He would always be able to find her no matter where she went, always be able to sense her feelings. It was both a curse and a blessing. If she turned from him, it would slowly drive him mad. She would haunt his waking hours and even his death-like sleep until the day she passed from the Earth. It was this very thing that had led some of his ancestors to face the killing sun.

  But he would not even consider defeat. He would not leave her alone and undefended even if she did try to send him away. Time was on his side and he would do whatever it took to make her want to be with him. Their physical connection was deep and explosive and he would use it to help bind her to him.

  Stefan knew Laurel Rose would have many questions when she woke. She might even fear him. His body clenched and his mind rebelled at the very thought of her cringing away from him. He forced himself to relax when he realized how tightly he was holding her, thankful that she never stirred from her sleep. It was his own fault for not being more careful with her, for underestimating the power of his own need.

  But he would not lie to her. The time had come for her to learn the entire truth. Whether or not she was ready to accept it was another thing altogether. But after what had happened, he owed her nothing less. He was a Dalakis. He would not shirk from what had to be done and he would not be defeated. Not when success was so close at hand.

  Forcing himself to relax, he stared at the ceiling and allowed the soft rhythm of her breathing and the beat of her heart to relax him. Several hours passed and Stefan found peace within himself with Laurel Rose in his embrace.

  But time waited for no one and Stefan stirred when he realized that his was running out. He had to wake her and confront her fears. The dawn was swiftly approaching and the sun would be up within the hour.

  • • •

  The voice seemed a long way away, but Laurel Rose heard the urgency in the tone. She struggled to wake from the deep slumber that had claimed her. When had she fallen asleep? She tried to remember what had happened. Heat crept up her cheeks as she recalled the explosive lovemaking between her and Stefan. But after that, her mind seemed blank.

  She was climbing closer to wakefulness with each passing second, but it was incredibly difficult to do so, which surprised her. Usually she woke quickly, fully refreshed in the morning. She forced her eyes open and frowned when she noticed the darkness still shrouding the room. The only light came from the window as the night sky began to brighten with the coming of the dawn.

  “Is it still night?” Her thoughts still muddled, she tried to push herself up to a seated position. Her voice was little more than a croak and she lifted her hand to her neck, wondering why it felt sore. There was a metallic taste in her mouth and her throat was incredibly dry.

  Stefan quickly wrapped his arm around her and half lifted, half slid her until she was sitting upright with her back propped against the headboard. “Yes. It’s less than an hour until dawn.”

  His eyes were not on her face, but lower. Looking down, she realized she was naked and the sheet had bunched around her waist. Her nipples tightened and puckered under his gaze and the familiar pulse began low in her belly.

  When his hands reached down and gripped the covers, she expected him to pull them away. Instead, he tugged them up around her and tucked them under her arms.

  He reached over to the bedside table and flicked on the small brass lamp, its muted glow illuminating the room. He picked up a glass that sat there and turned back to her. “Drink this.” His voice was brusque but his actions were gentle and she didn’t object when he placed the rim of the glass to her lips.

  The orange juice was cold and slid easily down her throat, soothing it. “It’s good.” She licked her lips. “Thank you.”

  His mouth tightened into a thin line and he gave her a curt nod as he returned the glass to the table. For some unknown reason, her gratitude seemed to anger him. Totally bewildered, she pushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face and tried to make sense of the situation.

  Her body ached in places she’d never had aches before, but that was to be expected considering the sexual activity she and Stefan had engaged in. The pain in her throat had lessened, but her neck still seemed slightly sore. Absently, she stroked her hand over it.

  The mattress shifted when Stefan rolled off the bed and stood. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the long line of his spine. His hair hung over his shoulders almost to his waist. She’d never known a man who had such long hair. On most men it might have looked strange, almost effeminate, but no one would ever mistake Stefan for a woman. He exuded strength and power even when he was at rest. There was no doubt that this was a man in the prime of his life.

  As she watched, he strode to the end of the bed, bent down, and snatched up his jeans. She got a mouthwatering view of his butt when he leaned down. The man had the tightest ass in the world. Her fingers clutched at the bedcovers as she watched him haul on his jeans. Disappointment filled her that he didn’t turn around one last time before tugging up the zipper and fastening the button. She would have liked to have one last peek before he left.

  He pulled on his socks and stamped his feet into his boots. Stefan grew tenser with each garment of clothing he put on. She could feel it in the air, see it in the rigid way he held his shoulders and head. His shirt was next and he turned to face her as he slipped it on. It was hard to believe she’d slept against that chest. It looked as hard as steel and was roped with muscles, yet it had pillowed her head and his skin had felt warm and alive under her hand.

  Something definitely wasn’t right. “What’s wrong?”

  The question seemed to surprise him. He dropped his hands from the buttons of his shirt, allowing the tails to fall open, framing the broad expanse of his torso. Sighing, he came around to her side of the bed and sank down onto the mattress. His face could have been carved from stone, there was so little emotion there. He looked very austere and almost forbidding as he sat and stared at her. Laurel Rose began to get a sinking feeling deep in her gut.

  Releasing her grip on the covers, she slid one hand down to cover her stomach to try to settle the churning inside it. She was very much afraid she knew what was coming next. Swallowing hard, she squared her shoulders and waited for him to deliver his blow.

  He opened his mouth to speak and she forced herself not to look away. Here it comes. She braced herself for the “It’s been fun, but I have to go” speech. It wasn’t as if she expected a man who looked as gorgeous as Stefan to hang around for long. She was realistic and knew that she wasn’t most men’s ideal woman by a long shot.

  Laurel Rose knew there was nothing exceptional about her looks. The best she could say about herself was that she was fit, in spite of her bad leg. Her face was, well, it was okay except for the faded white scar that ran down her right cheek. Surprisingly enough, Stefan had never seemed to notice her scars, never commented on them. He’d also seemed to understand her odd ways and accepted her psychic ability.