Affection. Another ecstasy for him. He hadn't been touched in so long.

He rested on his elbows as she gazed up at him with her eyes soft, flickering between silver and dark hazel, her expression satisfied. Holding her face with both of his shaking hands, he brushed kisses over her eyelids, her nose. She was the loveliest creature he had ever imagined—and the most passionate—and she was his.

His voice hoarse, he said, "I have not told you my name. I am Sebastian Wroth."

Still seeming entranced, she murmured, "Bastian," making him want to squeeze her.

He grinned down at her. "Only my family used to call me that. It pleases me that you would."

"Uh-hmm." She scratched his neck in languid circles.

Excitement was still drumming in him. The idea of learning everything about her filled him with anticipation, but first he had to know—"Did I... did I... hurt you?"

"I'll be sore." Her lips curled, then she rubbed her face against him once more, this time as if grateful. "But only in the most delicious places."

His cock was still semi-hard in the wet heat of his jeans, and the way she purred that one simple word, delicious, made it swell once more. He didn't understand how she could simply shrug off being hurt, but there was no way he'd act on the need welling once more. He fought to ignore how good she felt beneath him.

He brushed back her hair, revealing her pointed ears. The tiny fangs, the claws, the eyes... "Katja, what are... " He cleared his throat. "What are you?"

Her brows drew together. "I'm a—" She tensed in an instant. Her eyes cleared completely, as though she'd just woken up. All the supple muscles of her body that had gone soft and pliant after her orgasm now grew rigid.

With a sharp inhalation, she kicked him off her—hard—sending him to the opposite wall, then shot to her feet. "Ah, gods, what have I done?" she whispered, bringing a tremulous hand to her forehead. Her face was cold, but her eyes burned wild as she backed away.