“Is it working?” she murmured, running hands up his bare chest.

Working? He was on fire, being consumed by flames that raged through his body like an inferno. And worse, he was beginning to forget why he shouldn’t have her beneath him as he explored every inch of her delectable body.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his muscles clenched with desperate hunger.

“Gods,” he breathed, his stomach cramping as he tried to deny the furious instinct to take this woman to his bed and never let her go.

Her soft chuckle feathered over his chest, her fingers skimming down to tease at the waistband of his jeans.

“You’re showing your fangs, vampire.”

His eyes snapped open as he reached out to grasp her shoulders, careful not to dig into her tender flesh.

“And you’re playing a perilous game, Were.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Yes,” he growled, although he knew with perfect clarity that there was no genuine danger.

At least not to Regan.

He, on the other hand, was in very serious danger of imploding if he didn’t ease the savage need to be inside her.

Soon.

She deliberately licked her lips. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Keep it up, and I’ll devour you.”

The green eyes glittered with invitation. “You promise?”

He smacked his hands against the wall behind him, barely noticing the large holes he punched into the paneling. Screw it. Tane could send him a bill.

“Regan, I want you too much and my control is too unpredictable,” he gritted, his body trembling. “If I start this, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Who said anything about stopping?”

He shook his head. This was a mistake. Even if he could be confident his control was trustworthy, Regan no longer needed a champion. Hell, she never truly had.

And no doubt, she was already making plans to move on.

Plans that didn’t include a damaged vampire.

So why not enjoy what was offered before he returned to his dark, lonely lair? The voice of temptation whispered in the back of his mind.

Because he was rapidly reaching the point where he would never be capable of letting her go. The voice of reason answered.

Which might explain why he was so anxious to grasp onto the fear that he couldn’t be trusted with her.

Already the thought of walking away made him want to howl in pain. How much worse would it be if they became even more intimate?

Barely aware of what he was doing, Jagr allowed his hands to caress the silky perfection of her shoulders, his thoughts occupied with a last, desperate means to cling to a thread of reason.

“Dammit, woman, you’ve been trying to get rid of me since I arrived in Hannibal,” he rasped. “Why would you suddenly want me to stay?”

She shrugged. “I’m a woman. I’m allowed to change my mind whenever I want, as many times as I want.”

“Convenient.”

“Sometimes.” With a smile, she popped the button of his jeans.

“Stop.” Jagr hissed as his hand reached to grasp her wrist. How the hell was he supposed to be reasonable when she refused to cooperate?

She didn’t struggle against his grip. Instead she leaned forward to lick a warm, wet path from his sternum to the base of his throat.

“You don’t want me?” she whispered against his skin.

Jagr swallowed his shout of pleasure, his fangs fully extended, and his last hope to cling to common sense shattered.

“I…yes.” His hands grasped her hips and pressed them against his aching erection. “I want you.”

Her lashes fluttered down until only a small, smoldering slit of emerald was visible.

“Then what’s the problem?”

There was a problem. He’d just been thinking about it. Unfortunately, it was as elusive as a mist fairy and, when she once again tugged at the button of his jeans, it disappeared altogether.

His head lowered so he could bury his face in the curve of her neck, the heated jasmine scent doing nothing to clear his desire-fogged brain.

“Damn you, Regan,” he husked, his fangs scraping against her soft skin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She shivered at his soft warning, but not from fear. He could already smell the potent perfume of her arousal as she awkwardly tugged at his zipper.

Jagr was swift to help push down the unwelcome jeans, kicking them impatiently aside. Later he would no doubt regret this momentary weakness, but for now nothing mattered but the feel of her soft hands exploring the clenched muscles of his stomach.

“I’ve told you, chief, I don’t need you to protect me,” she husked, nipping at his chest. “Not even from you.”

Jagr shuddered, the pleasure of even such a light caress nearly sending him over the edge.

“Take care with those teeth, little one,” he muttered, his hands compulsively stroking over her back. “Vampires exchange blood for more than food.”

Tilting back her head, she regarded him with a hint of curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“A vampire’s blood is the source of our power, as well as our means of claiming our true mate.” A rueful smile touched his lips. “Take my blood and I might very well be bound to you for all eternity.”

Her eyes widened, uncertainty flaring through them at his blunt confession.

“Jagr…”

“If you want to flee, now would be the time to do it.”

For a moment, he thought she would. His body tensed and his gut wrenched with a ruthless disappointment.

Why the hell hadn’t he kept his mouth shut?

A stark painful silence filled the room, and Jagr braced himself for rejection. Regan might possess more courage than any creature he’d ever known, but the one thing she truly feared was being imprisoned once again.

And in her mind, emotional attachments were just as terrifying as any chains made of silver.

Why else would she refuse to meet with Darcy?

Even as he tensed, however, Regan was giving a slight shake of her head and without warning, she bent forward to scatter kisses over his chest, pausing at each nipple to flick her tongue over the beaded tip. Jagr groaned, one hand burying in her satin hair in silent encouragement.

Later he would wonder why Regan had so abruptly gone from trying to deny the desire that constantly pulsed between them, but for now…

Gods, for now he could only enjoy.

Trailing a devastating path down the center of his stomach, she tongued his belly button, making his cock twitch with a silent plea of mercy. Jagr squeezed his eyes shut, torn between the need to flip her onto the bed and take her with a swift, glorious explosion of pleasure, and allowing Regan to continue her seductive torment.

It was at last the feel of Regan’s soft lips stroking ever lower that made the decision.

In the past, he’d always been the aggressor during a sexual encounter. His predatory nature preferred being the hunter to the prey. Besides, it made it easier to make the contact as brief and uncomplicated as possible. The last thing he wanted was a clinging woman.

He’d never realized just how erotic it could be to have a woman take charge.

Running his fingers through the strands of her hair as she kneeled before him, he forgot his earlier terror at having been lost in his bloodlust. And even his lingering suspicion of her sudden determination to seduce him.

There was only one thought on his mind.

Getting that warm, wet mouth on his aching arousal.

A pleasure easier dreamed of than achieved.

Although Regan had to be aware of the straining thrust of his erection, she refused to give into his silent urging, instead nibbling a path over his hip bone and down his inner thigh.

Muttering a desperate curse, he tugged her head up to meet his hungry gaze.

“If you intend to punish me, little one, you’re doing a fine job.”

A tiny smile curved her lips as she held his gaze, her finger tracing a teasing path up the length of his cock.

“Well, I would hate for my efforts to be wasted.”

He moaned as she reached the tip, toying with the tiny drop of moisture that had pooled there.

“You’re a cruel woman.”

“I do try,” she murmured, bending down to trace him with her tongue from top to bottom and then back again. He swallowed a shout of pleasure, his hips instinctively arching toward her tempting lips.

“Oh…damn that feels good,” he ground out, forcing his eyes open so he could witness the sight of her pleasuring him.

He nearly came at the mere sight.

Lost in a sensual haze, his gaze drifted over the strands of hair that shimmered like gold in the pale light, the perfect lines of her profile, and the expanse of ivory skin that stretched over her supple muscles.

Nothing was ever so beautiful.

His tiny Were, with the soul of a warrior and the innocence of an angel.

A warm, poignant tenderness threaded through his hunger. He had warned Regan to take care, already sensing that if she were to drink his blood the mating would be complete, but in this moment he realized that it didn’t matter.

She had already claimed him in all the ways that mattered, and whether they ever completed the bond, he would never, ever love another woman.