A moment’s silence ensued, heavy with what was almost said. Then he asked, “Would you like dessert?”
Her brows lifted. “You’ve made dessert? I am truly impressed.”
“Dark chocolate mousse. But I admit, I bought it from Bellamy’s. I don’t stretch much past steaks.”
She laughed at that, and Oliver, weak soul that he was, allowed himself to imagine her sitting here, eating desert with him at this long table in the candlelight.
And afterward, taking her to his bed.
And making sweet love to her for hours.
Every. Single. Night.
Forever.
CHAPTER 26
Later, in the soft light from the bedside lamps, Clare put on her silk nightdress in the guest room. They’d discussed over dessert how they would go about this, both carefully maintaining a professional tone, to the point it was almost laughable.
She would prepare herself in the guest room and wait for him to join her around midnight.
She’d taken a bath, tried to relax, but what she hadn’t told him was what she’d be wearing. A tiny silk nightdress in champagne silk, with thin threads and a low lace neckline that exposed the soft curves of her breasts.
And yes, that was wicked of her, but heck, even amid such a grave mission, she wanted to tempt him to let go of his iron will.
Madness, and yet…
The rub of silk on her skin made her feel so sensual, her whole body alive and bubbling over with expectation. She got into the big bed. Tried to read, but she couldn’t concentrate, knowing that very soon Oliver would come to her.
Thinking about his mouth on her neck was such a turn-on, the thought of his fangs plunging into her vein, the feel ofhim sucking her blood, traveled straight to her clit, and warmth spread between her thighs.
Even so, she jumped at the soft knock on the door.
Her voice cracked a little as she called, “Come in.”
The door opened and then Oliver appeared, dressed casually again in loose tracksuit pants and a soft cotton t-shirt that made him look young and rakish somehow. He sat next to her on the bed and she eased herself up to sitting, the coverlet falling away.
His gaze sprang to her breasts, and then to her neck, and when his eyes reached hers, they were full of longing. She saw the glint of his long fangs as his lips parted, and glancing down, noticed there was a formidable bulge in his pants. There was no mistaking it, he was as aroused as her.
With slightly trembling hands, she pushed the covers away, exposing her legs, which she spread slightly at the same time as she lengthened her neck. His gaze jumped to the apex of her thighs, then sprang up to her face, eyes dark with lust.
“Did you wear this to taunt me, Clare?” he asked thickly.
She hid the truth behind innocent eyes. “I always dress like this in bed.”
“Lying witch.”
“That’s me. Apparently.” She laughed breathily, watching, fascinated as his fangs descended and sparkled in the lamplight.
He went to take her arm, but she proffered her neck instead.
He pulled back, frowning. “No Clare. I will take too much.”
“You need to take more to increase your powers. I will rest afterward to recuperate. My jugular is best.”
His breathing became heavier, his eyes hooded. Wanting her blood but also, she sensed, wanting so much more.
She stretched her neck like a kitten and sighed as he finally lowered his lips and kissed along her vein.
