Pleasure crashed over me, so intense it was close to pain. My body quaked against his mouth and hands, raising off the bed, but he held me in place until I came again. A scream escaped my lips then, despite my attempt to muffle it with the back of my hand.
He brought his face back to mine and kissed me hard and openmouthed so I could taste myself on his tongue. By this time I was utterly ravenous for him.
“Please, Declan,” I begged. “I need you inside of me. I want you so much.”
I wrapped my legs around his fully clothed body and ground myself against him as if he were naked. I desperately needed him thrusting deep inside of me. I wanted him even more now than I had before. He’d given me two incredible orgasms, but I wasn’t satisfied. A small taste had only intensified my hunger.
Slowly, very slowly, I regained control of myself until I found I was kissing him more than he was kissing me. I held his face between my hands and stared up at him, dismayed to see his expression held some regret.
Tears stung my eyes. “Please don’t look at me like that.”
He looked pained. “I’m sorry, Jill. I want to be more for you, but—but I can’t be.”
Every bit of hot, aching desire I’d just felt for him hadn’t been matched. He felt nothing. The mind was willing, but the body couldn’t comply. My skin felt electric, sensitive, as though if he touched me again, he might send me right back over the edge.
I sat up so we were face-to-face and hugged him against me. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“For now it is.”
“The experiment . . .”
I pulled back so I could see his face. “Speaking for myself, the experiment was a complete success.”
A smile touched his lips. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I am a fan of science.”
I kissed him, sad that this time he only briefly returned it.
It had been a short detour, but we’d returned right back to square one.
At least there were some French fries waiting as my consolation prize.
FOUR
I’d had bad dreams every night since I was injected with Nightshade. This was the first time I had one about Declan.
It started off well enough.
We were having dinner, and it wasn’t salty, greasy fast food scarfed down in a cheap motel room. We were at a restaurant—one of my favorites, a little Italian place that was just around the corner from my apartment in San Diego.
He placed his hand on top of mine, and I looked up at his face.
It was Declan, but it wasn’t the Declan I’d come to know. The black eye patch was gone, and he had two beautiful green eyes instead of one gray one, which was a trait of a dhampyr or vampire. He didn’t have any scars marring his handsome features. His hair was a bit longer than the short-cropped cut I was used to. And he had an easy grin on his face that was as unfamiliar as the dark blue suit he wore.
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he said.
“Feels a bit like it.” But I wasn’t as shocked as I could have been at his appearance. It felt right, as though I was accustomed to seeing him like this. “You look really good.”
“Better than normal?”
“Well . . . different. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. That’s just the thing. I’m not a dhampyr. I’m not a hunter. I don’t get a scar every time I get cut or shot. I didn’t lose my eye because I never fought with the vampire who clawed it out with his fingernails.” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think of that?”
“I’m speechless, that’s what I think. You look—”