He sucked in a breath. "Good God, you're beautiful."
"Thank you." She noticed his groin was even larger. "Enough chitchat." She grabbed hold of the waistband of his flannel pajama bottoms.
He clasped her wrists to stop her. "We really do need to talk."
"Why?" She yanked her hands from his grasp and glared at him. "Are you dumping me?"
"No! I love you. I want to spend my life with you."
Her heart swelled. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Then what's the problem? I can't get pregnant. I have no diseases. Your gorgeous body will not be harmed in any way." She grabbed her whip off the coffee table. "Unless, of course, you piss me off."
He laughed.
She huffed. "That was supposed to scare you into submission. The whip or personal love slave - which will it be?"
His blue eyes twinkled. "You don't have to resort to threats. I gladly volunteer."
She tossed the whip onto the table. "Then stop talking and kiss me. Make me scream. That's an order."
He shifted his weight. "I have to say something first."
Vanda groaned with frustration. She should have used the damned whip.
"Remember how you mentioned that the Nazis sent wolves after you?"
She froze. Her skin chilled with goose bumps, in spite of the blazing fire nearby. "I don't want to talk about it." She couldn't let Phil know. He'd never look at her the same way again. "The past is gone. There's no point in talking about it."
"But this - "
"No! You love me, don't you?" Tears sprang to her eyes once again. "Isn't love supposed to be enough?"
He searched her eyes. "I hope it is."
"It is." She wrapped her arms around him. "Please. Just take me as I am. Love me."
"I do love you. More than anything."
"Good." She tugged his pants down. "Then hurry."
"We have all night. Don't rush me."
But he was ready. So ready. "I want you." She reached out to touch him.
"Wait a minute." He lowered her to the floor, and she immediately locked her legs around his waist.
"Love slave." She lifted her hips to rub herself against him. "Take me now."
He pushed her hips down. "Not now."
"Yes, now. What about the term 'love slave' do you not understand?"
He chuckled. "I was the first one to declare my love. So I get the first turn."
"We're taking turns?"
"Yes. Me first."
She suppressed a smile. For a love slave, he was very domineering. But even their little power struggles turned her on. "You think you're in charge here?"
"I know I am." He fished her terry-cloth belt from her robe.
"Maybe I just let you think you're in charge." She frowned as he looped the belt around her wrists. "What are you doing?"
"I intend to explore you thoroughly. I can't do it if you keep rushing me." He pulled her arms above her head and tied the terry-cloth ends around a leg of the coffee table.
She tugged at the belt, then smiled. He'd tied her so loosely, she could free her hands whenever she wanted. "So who made you the boss?"
"I did. Feel free to register your complaints."
"I will. You - You're - " She sucked in a breath when his tongue tickled her neck. "You're overbearing."
"Mmm-hmm." With his tongue, he licked a path down to her br**sts.
"You're a caveman." She shivered as his tongue circled her nipple. "Pushy and completely ob-ob - "
He sucked her nipple into his mouth.
"Obnoxious!"
He tugged on the hardened tip, and she moaned.
The ache between her legs grew more desperate. "Phil, please."
"You're not begging, are you?" He nibbled down her belly.
"Never."
"Good, 'cause it won't sway me. This is still my turn, and I'm not done with you." He slipped two fingers inside her.
She jolted.
"You're so wet." He waggled his fingers. "So beautiful."
She panted, gasping for air. Oh God, it felt so good.
Her legs tensed. Her hips lifted.
And his fingers withdrew. The building crescendo keeled over and fell flat.
"Ack!" She'd never felt so desperate. "What was that?"
"Trust me." He dove between her legs.
She squealed at the feel of his tongue. He tickled and teased, suckled and nipped.
The tension slammed back into her full force, stealing her breath away. Oh God, if this was how he took his turn, he could take the whole night. A whole fortnight. Her sight dimmed. Her ears hummed. All feelings, all thoughts, zeroed in on his wicked mouth.
She screamed as a massive convulsion racked her body. She writhed, oblivious to everything but the delicious shudders.
She gasped when he entered her suddenly. "Phil." She freed her hands from the belt. "Are you trying to kill me?"
He smiled and kissed her brow. "Hang in there, sweetheart. It's still my turn."
Several hours later, Phil lay flat on his back in a sated stupor.
"Phil," Vanda whispered in his ear.
He groaned. Was it his turn again? He'd lost count. After his last turn, he'd thought he was completely spent. He'd been half asleep when she'd started massaging him with a warm, wet washcloth. She was so gentle, he'd floated in a drowsy, semiaroused state.
But then she took him into her mouth. In a flash he was fully awake and fully erect. She tortured him till he begged for mercy, and then she straddled him. He didn't know what was more exciting: feeling her hot sheath sliding up and down his penis, or watching her make love to him. He'd adored watching the expressions on her face, the flush on her skin, and the bounce of her br**sts. He'd relished hearing the soft moans and hoarse cries. He had never experienced anything so beautifully erotic.
She'd nearly killed him.
"Phil," she whispered again.
He moaned.
"You fell asleep. It's four in the morning."
"That's nice." He pried his eyes open, but they fell shut again. "I sleep at night. Guard during the day."
"I know. But all that exercise left me with an appetite."
"That's nice." He drifted off.
"Phil."
"Mmm."
"I'm hungry." She traced his carotid artery with her finger.
His eyes popped open.
She grinned. "I thought that would get your attention. I was going to call Connor, but I thought I should let you know first, in case one of the guys teleports here with synthetic blood and sees you sprawled naked on the floor."
He sat up. "I see what you mean." It would be obvious that he and Vanda were engaging in forbidden activities. He blinked, realizing for the first time that she was wearing flannel pants and a man's T-shirt. "You're dressed."
"Yes. I found these clothes on the dryer. And I took another bath. Vamps have a really strong sense of smell."
Werewolves did, too, and Vanda's scent was all over him. "I'd better wash up." He hurried to the bathroom to scrub himself clean.
When he came out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he discovered she'd loaded the washing machine with the blanket and everything else that smelled of sex.
She paced around the room. "I think I got everything. I don't want to lose you as my guard. If Connor figures out what we're doing, he might reassign you."
"Then I would quit." Phil found one last T-shirt and pair of flannel pants on the dryer. He pulled them on. "I'm not leaving you."
"Phil." She looked at him with so much love in her soft gray eyes. Then her gaze shifted to his neck. Her eyes gleamed, and she turned away. "Make the call, please."
"Right." He wasn't afraid of Vanda's fangs, but he knew if she bit him, she'd realize he didn't taste like a normal human. That wasn't the way he wanted her to learn the truth. He'd tried to tell her earlier, but she'd refused to listen.
He was halfway to the bathroom to retrieve the cell phone he'd left in his pants when he remembered it never got good reception at this cabin. It would be dangerous to have a Vamp teleport here using an unstable beacon. He went back to the phone on the kitchen counter, then punched in the number for the security office at Romatech.
Connor answered. "How is it there?"
"Quiet. Vanda's hungry, so we could use a delivery."