Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. She moaned fiercely.

He went so deep, his skin sliding and teasing her skin. Each thrust teased a secret place inside that sent waves of delight over her. Each thrust banged her clit.

Ophelia gripped his shoulders. They moved together. She thrust, trying to match his strokes, seeking release.

She wrapped her legs around him. Touching him all over. Loving him—

Oh heavens!


Raven drew in a controlling breath. He bowed his head over her, fighting for control. Her cunny held him tight, squeezing him with slick heat. Her pussy pulsed around him. Her eyes were closed, her mouth strained as she moaned and cried out through her orgasm.

“Raven!” she cried. He thrust into her, driving into her climaxing quim.

“I love this . . . love you. Oh!”

Never had he heard those words gasped so desperately on a woman’s lips. His fiancée had never said it like that.

He slanted his mouth over her. Kissed her full, soft lips. Nuzzled her jaw as she sobbed and rocked against him. Her climax seemed endless.

He kissed her throat—

Suddenly, her scents overwhelmed him. The scent of her pussy, the sweetness of her skin, the richness of her blood, pumping like mad beneath her skin.

He pulled back.

“Your fangs are out.”

He ducked his head. Focused to make them retract. He’d already fed, damn it, while he was outside. There was no hunger in him.

His cock was still hard. She’d only come twice.

“It’s all right. I can control them.” He withdrew his cock, which ached as it left her hot cunny. “Three more, love. Let’s have them in bed.”


Four orgasms and she had drifted off to sleep.

Raven got up from the bed and lifted the sheet and counterpane, gently covering Ophelia with it. She lay on her side, curled up. He should wake her and give her one more orgasm and take her power—then turn her power over to Queen Jade to protect his sister.

Then he would die.

Or so Guidon said. There was something in his past that would destroy Ophelia’s love for him, and he couldn’t escape his fate of destruction unless she knew the truth and loved him in spite of it.

He had no idea what in hell it was.

Raven was tired of the world of demons, with its curses and spells and the fact every hope for escape and happiness came with either a destructive price or a devious catch.

He didn’t want to wake Ophelia, either. She’d endured hell earlier and survived. In one day she had learned he was a vampire, she had been taken prisoner and almost dissected. He was thankful she was able to sleep.

There was time—time for him to make her climax again. He could try taking her power tomorrow. It meant giving her five more orgasms tomorrow, but he was ready for the delicious challenge.

Outside, stars glittered against the black sky. It was night again, a whole day since Ophelia’s blood scent had tempted him beyond sanity and he’d had to run. Tonight, after he had gone out to see who watched his house, he’d hunted quickly in the stews for prey. In mere minutes, he’d found a brute of a man to feed on. It had taken away the ferocity of his hunger, allowing him to return to her.

But watching her sleep, Raven could picture her blood thrumming through her veins. He had to get out and feed again.

How could he ever dream of a future between them? He couldn’t make her into a vampire, and he couldn’t stay with her because he feared he would lose control and take her blood.

It didn’t matter if she loved him or if there was a reason in his past for her to hate him. He had to die, damn it.

Destruction was his only future.

Raven left her bedroom and dressed. He had to go and find prey—and while he was doing it, he was going to ensure his sister, Frederica, was still safe.

He left the house, locking it carefully, and passed through the streets fully dressed. He walked, but moving at such speed he was a blur. Mortal London moved past him with no clue he was there. Animals sensed him. Dogs barked and howled, horses shied, but their human masters chastised them with no idea the animals had better senses.

It took mere minutes to come to Mount Street, to find his old house. Candlelight blazed from the window, but there was no ball here tonight. His sister must be out.

Then his hearing picked up a soft, feminine sigh, the delicate sound of a girl being pleasurably caressed.

Hades.

Was that his sister? If the scoundrel from the ballroom was taking liberties, he would drink the blackguard’s blood and tear him limb from limb.

Vampires could move almost silently. Or they should be able to. Raven stepped on a fallen branch as he made his way around the shrubbery in the dark. It broke with a snap and a young woman gasped, “Someone’s there. Someone has followed me.”

“Wait here.” The masculine voice was filled with determination, but sounded young also.

Raven retreated into the shadows by the lilacs. Worry for his sister had made him clumsy.

“Hello?” The young man stepped out. Beneath his hat, his golden hair gleamed in the moonlight. The lad moved slowly, his eyes scanning around him. He looked like he expected danger, a battle. But he should suspect someone like her cousin, the new marquis, or a governess might have stumbled on them.

Raven saw what the young man held in his hand. The lad’s fingers gripped tight around the end of a wooden stake, and he held it at shoulder height, ready to plunge.

Raven reeled back on his heels, stunned.

A vampire hunter? What in Hades was Frederica doing with a young vampire slayer? And why did the man believe that whoever Frederica thought was following her was the undead?

Guilt and horror hit Raven. Had she somehow learned he had been turned into a vampire?

It broke his heart. He would never hurt his sister, yet what else could she believe but that he was a monster? Even as a mortal man, he’d been a killer, though that had been sanctioned by war. But if she now knew what he was, she must know he was violent and vicious and she must be terrified of him.

Raven wanted to know exactly what was going on. He could not have the boyish vampire slayer catch him. Using his powers, he entered the young man’s mind. There was nothing here. It was an animal that broke a branch. You found nothing. Now return to her.

The young man stopped and stepped back from the lilacs, a dazed look on his face. Raven studied the young man. Golden hair beneath his hat. A handsome face, but a young one. The face looked suspiciously clean-shaven, as if the lad had barely begun to sport facial hair. Moonlight illuminated large blue eyes that looked blank for several seconds. Then the lad shook his head and lowered his stake. He dropped it into the pocket of his greatcoat.

The young slayer’s clothes were those of a gentleman, Raven noted, as the boy crept back to Frederica. “There was nothing there. I couldn’t find anything. It must have been an animal that broke a branch. That must be what we heard.”

It was easy to plant suggestions in the lad’s mind. However, it did not please Raven that Frederica had moved into the boy’s embrace. Couldn’t she see how daft the lad had to be? Raven had felt no resistance in the boy’s mind to his suggestions.

“I’m so afraid,” Frederica whispered, though Raven could easily hear her muted voice.

“The vampire came to my room last night,” she continued, clutching the young man’s arm. “He was a giant bat! It was horrible. Terrifying! He tried to get in through my window.”

Raven’s blood ran cold. That vampire had not been him. One of his brethren was trying to attack his sister?

It had to be a minion of Queen Jade.

He still had time to do as the bitch of a vampire queen had asked and take Ophelia’s power. Jade had no right to frighten his sister.

Then he saw something that froze him on the spot. That stunned him to his gut. It would have slammed into his soul, if he’d had one.

His slender, young sister stood on tiptoe and locked her arms around the vampire slayer’s neck. Her lips softened, and she cocked her head like a woman accustomed to being kissed. The lad’s arms went around her.

Raven could have handled witnessing a sweet kiss, a small peck.

The boy gave Frederica a long, steamy, intimate French kiss. Raven had one glimpse of their tongues dueling before he staggered back and looked away. Frederica’s sigh of delight was like a spike through his heart.

How could his sister have fallen in love with a vampire slayer?

Raven waited in the dark, his heart thumping. He hated that he could not go near her.

He wanted to destroy the man who was now kissing Frederica and caressing her body with his hands. But did he have any right to destroy a man she loved?

The kiss ended on a fluttering feminine sigh and a lusty male groan.

Raven’s hands fisted.

“I should go in now,” she whispered. “In case I am missed.”

“Be careful, my love,” the slayer murmured. “Keep your windows locked. Lay the garlic flowers along them and wear them around your neck while you sleep. Do not open your doors or windows for anyone. I am going to hunt that vampire tonight.”

They shared a hasty kiss, then Frederica turned and slipped through the shadows toward the house. Raven watched her, to make sure she got inside safely. So did the slayer.

“Who’s there?” It was the boy, moving carefully through the dark, searching the stretches of blackness.

Raven knew he hadn’t made a sound. The boy was not as much of an idiot as he thought. The lad could sense him. He tried to send thoughts into the slayer’s head. Now he found resistance as he tried to break into the young man’s mind and plant thoughts. Apparently without Frederica there, the boy had much more control over his wits.