Even without fangs, he could bite her. And, if she were human, he could drain her dry. But because she was vampire, her skin was as hard and smooth as polished ivory. Reaching a vein with his teeth was impossible. He needed je la nune, the only substance capable of burning through that ivory. Problem was, they’d run out. Now, there was only one way to get what he wanted.

“Victoria,” he rasped.

She must not have recovered from their last interlude, because she gave no indication that she heard him. A flicker of guilt pierced his hunger. He should get up, move away from her. Let her rest, recover. She’d fed him so much blood over the past few days—weeks? years?—she couldn’t have much left.

“Victoria.” He couldn’t stop her name from rolling off his tongue. The hunger…truly, it never left him. Only grew, slithering around him, clamping down on his soul. Still. He’d take just a drop, the taste he’d promised himself, and then he would at last leave her alone. She could go back to sleep.

Until he needed more.

You won’t take any more, remember? This is the last time.

“Wake up for me, sweetheart.” He pressed their lips together, harder than he’d intended. A kiss for his Sleeping Beauty.

Like the girl in the fairy tale, Victoria blinked open her lids, the length of her lashes separating, connecting, separating for good. Then he was peering into eyes of the purest crystal. Deep, fathomless. Glazed with a hunger of their own.

“Aden?” She stretched like a kitten, her arms rising above her head, her back arching. A purr rumbled from her throat. “Is it bad again?”