He worked another finger inside her. “So hot and soft and hungry.” When he plunged both fingers, her head thrashed, arms catching against the cuffs.

“Hear how wet you are? Wouldn’t you do anything to come on my hand? Just tell me how you met Nïx.” He sucked her tender clit between his lips, tugging at it.

She gasped, shaking her head.

Suck. “Why did she target my brethren?” Tug.

“Brethren?”

“What’s your involvement with the Valkyries?”

Jo nodded.

He made a sound of frustration. “You’re the strangest creature I’ve ever met. You should despise me. I feel how swollen your little clit is—it throbs against my tongue. Your pussy’s begging for my cock. How can you not want this ache to end?”

“Never end. Never . . .”

“No? Then you’re not hurting for it enough.” He began working a third finger into her.

The fullness made her eyes roll back in her head. She imagined his dick was penetrating her. So close . . . so close . . . She wriggled her hips on his long fingers, fucking herself with them.

He groaned. “Damn it, Josephine, do you want to hurt this way? Do you like this?”

She raised her head, telling him honestly, “You. I like.” A tear streamed down her cheek. “I like you so much.”

Never had Rune tortured himself by torturing another.

His shaft felt as if it’d explode. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding, his lungs heaving. He now knew what all his victims had gone through.

And never had he broken skin—unless he’d meant to. Yet the vampire’s wrists were bleeding. “Gods damn it, woman!” Injuring her was not part of the plan. He slid his fingers free, then rose from the bed.

She might want this never to end, but unlike his body, hers was suffering from more than thwarted desire. Pink tears had spilled from her eyes. Her skin was pale from thirst, her eyes black and glassy with it. Her fangs were sharp as daggers.

He couldn’t keep hurting her. Which meant she’d won. He bit out a Demonish curse and punched a hole in the stone wall. She’d defeated him.

“Rune?” Her finely boned face looked exhausted.

Flexing his fingers, he collected the key to her cuffs, then returned to the bed to unlock her. He knew just how she’d want to celebrate her release. Her predatory gaze had zeroed in on his neck.

He freed her, and she rose up on her knees. She shoved him back on the mattress, and he let her. Where would she bite him first? She’d likely drain him dry. His cock surged at the idea, even as his mind rebelled.

She won.

He told himself he could take her to the brink again. But he had no taste for it any longer.

Torturing her tortured me.

She straddled him, seating herself right atop his aching rod. Her sex was drenched, tormenting him with what he couldn’t have. Would she fall upon him?

She seemed to be resisting that urge. Why wouldn’t she move on his cock? She was edging herself! I don’t understand her!

She reached forward to cup his face with shaking hands. He had no idea what she was thinking. She telegraphed nothing—

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek.

A gust of breath left him. Why would she do this?

Then she tenderly kissed his chin. The tip of his nose. His forehead. She nuzzled the sensitive point of one ear.

“Are you . . . thanking me?”

She drew back. “Yes.”

“For hurting you?”

She shook her head, the silky curls of her hair cascading over her shoulders. “For making me feel alive.”

His gaze dipped to her mouth. He had to kiss her, couldn’t wait any longer. He clutched her nape. “I’ve wanted to take your mouth from the moment I first scented you.”

A lie. He’d wanted it all his life.

To kiss without killing?

She licked her carnal lips in invitation. “Take it, Rune.”

He tugged her head down, pulling her closer. Their gazes locked. When only an inch separated their lips, he swallowed. The moment was laden. “So long I’ve waited . . .” He pulled her in.

Contact.

Soft, giving lips trembled against his. He stilled, basking in this luxury, his senses drinking her in.

In time, he slipped his tongue into the welcoming heat of her mouth. He knew she was immune to him, but habit made him tense.

As if to reassure him, her tongue met his. When she gave a gentle lap, he felt it in every single inch of his body. His shaft pulsed so hard, it lifted her.

She moaned with pleasure. Only pleasure.

The most erotic sound his twitching ears had ever heard.

His grip on her nape tightened, his hand beginning to shake as he deepened the contact. He claimed her mouth possessively, his tongue twining hers—until they shared the breaths from their lungs. Until her heartbeat drummed in his ear alongside the sound of his.

This kiss was right. Her lips were right.

He’d wanted this so badly. And it was so much fucking better than he’d dreamed. He groaned for more.

She lovingly cradled his face again, and something inside his chest twisted. Her lips . . . her lips were teaching him to need. To feel again.

This woman. This vampire. With her slow, sweet kiss.

He wanted to teach her as well. To demonstrate why he was a man she should desire. That he had strength enough for both of them. She would listen to this kiss—just as she did to his blood.

He licked one of her fangs. The instant his blood hit her tongue, her body stiffened.