He flexed his wings, then turned. "You truly are an enigma. So fearless in hunting vampires, so prudish in your sexual tastes."
"I'm not fearless. I'm scared shitless," she said. "And as for the rest-being an enigma is good, right? After all, you only play with your toys as long as they amuse you." She didn't know how it had happened, but she found herself backed up against the table, with Raphael blocking her in.
When he lifted her to the table itself, she didn't protest. She even spread her thighs to accommodate him. Part of her was still cold. What she'd seen in that warehouse had brought too much to the surface. That sound, that dripping, it was a never-ending drumbeat in her head. She wanted to forget. And Raphael-dangerous, seductive, lethal Raphael-was far better than any drug. "No dust," she murmured as he slid his hands up her thighs to grab her hips. "I don't have time to wash it off."
But he didn't kiss her. "Tell me about your nightmares, Elena."
She froze. "Spying again?" She was human-she kept forgetting he had no respect for the boundaries of her mind.
His eyes turned chrome blue. "I have no need to. You don't have sex in your eyes. You have death."
She wanted to shove him away, but part of her-the cold part-liked the heat of his touch, was excited by that veiled hint of menace. No other man had ever come close to handling everything she was.
So she satisfied her urge to kick at him by leaning back, palms down on the table. It was a good thing they weren't near the food, otherwise, her hair would've been in the coffee. "So," she said, "you're an expert in reading women?"
"I've been alive a long time."
She felt her eyes narrow. "Have you and Her Royal Bitchiness ever fucked?"
He squeezed her hips. "Be careful, Elena. I can't always be around to protect you."
"Is that a yes?" She could imagine them mating in flight, a blinding-a goddamn beautiful-image of white gold and bronze.
"No. I've never taken Michaela up on her offer."
"Why not? She's hot-tits and ass are all men ever see."
"I prefer lips." He bent and bit down a fraction too hard on her lower lip before raising his head. "And yours are quite succulent."
Michaela's, she thought on a crashing wave of pleasure, were nicely shaped but thin. But-"I'm not buying." She didn't change her position. "Who the hell cares about lips?"
"If you were on your knees with your lips wrapped around my cock, I would care a great deal."
The image made tiny inner muscles tighten in damp readiness. "How come guys always think of women going down on them? How about the other way around?"
Cobalt lightning, hands sliding down, thumbs rubbing along the inner crease of each thigh. "Take off your pants."
Her stomach clenched."We have a killer to discuss."
"But you want to forget."
"You haven't answered my question." Breathless words, her body so hungry.
"I choose not to sleep with Michaela because I have no liking for black widows. Her poisonous whispers probably helped drive Uram to this."
She sat up, gripping his forearms. "This? What is this?"
His thumbs continued to move, touching the very edge of exquisitely sensitive flesh that ached for a harder, deeper caress. "You don't need to know."
A flash of fury overlaid the lust. "I can't work blind."
"Treat him as a vampire, the most dangerous vampire in the known universe." One of his thumbs pressed against her clitoris. "Now, take off your pants."
She fought to draw in air. "Fat chance. Tell me about Uram."
He pushed closer, his wings brushing her knees. Then, to her disappointment, he moved one of his hands . . . only to thrust it up under her T-shirt.
Her heart ricocheted around her chest as he cupped her breast, but she forced out the words. "Why can I scent him now when I couldn't before?"