She didn't know how, or when, it had happened, but there was no denying the truth of the matter.


When Styx wasn't near, she felt as if a part of her was missing.


Sensing her ready response to his touch, Styx wrapped his arms around her and deepened his kiss. With a growing insistency, his tongue pressed between her lips, tasting her moist heat with a hunger that he didn't bother to hide.


Her head was whirling and her heart thundering as her hands skimmed up his arms to the broad strength of his shoulders. She could feel his fierce hunger in the coiled hardness of his body and the restless movement of his hands as they traveled down her back and over the curve of her hips.


He gave a low growl as he nipped at the corner of her mouth and then trailed his tongue along the line of her jaw.


"I want you, angel," he muttered as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.


Her entire body shook with a powerful surge of desire. It didn't matter how many times Styx made love to her, it would never, ever be enough.


Struggling to recall why she shouldn't just rip off his clothes and have her way with him, Darcy gave a feint shake of her head.


"Wait," she protested in a breathless voice. "I can't think when you are kissing me."


He rubbed his fangs over her sensitive skin. "Then don't think."


Her fingers clutched at his shoulders. Sharp, tingling pleasure was racing from her neck straight to the pit of her stomach.


"This is far from settled, Styx," she warned.


"Shh. I can't think when I'm kissing you, either" he commanded as his lips closed over hers.


Darcy's eyes slid shut even as a voice in the back of her mind warned that this was not the best means of making her point with Styx.


She was a practical woman. She knew a losing battle when it was smacking her in the head.


She could make her point later.


With a low groan, Darcy parted her lips and plunged her fingers into his loose hair. The thick strands felt like silk beneath her fingers. Cool and smooth and perfect as the rest of him.


Oh, yeah. She could make her point much, much later.


Heat rippled through her as Styx tightened his grip on her hips and with fluid ease lifted her off her feet and carried her toward the vast bed.


A sense of absolute serenity settled in her heart even as her body was smoldering with a growing desire.


No matter how aggravating, annoying, arrogant, and aloof Styx might be at times, this was exactly where she belonged.


In his arms.


The sensation of slick satin brushed her back as Styx laid her gently on the bed. She expected him to follow her downward onto the mattress, but as she reluctantly lifted her gaze she discovered him standing beside the bed as he hungrily ran his gaze over her slender curves.


"You are so beautiful," he said in a husky tone as he reached out to gently tug the towel from her body.


Darcy shivered beneath the heat of his gaze. There was a raw need etched across his lean features she had never seen before. As if they had been apart for years rather than a few hours.


Swallowing the strange lump in her throat, she lay passive as he stroked his hand down the curve of her neck with heartbreaking reverence.


"Styx?"


"So soft... so warm," he whispered. Deliberately his hand shifted to cup the small weight of her breast. "I could drown in such sweetness."


Darcy allowed her eyes to flutter shut as his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple. Yes, yes, yes. This was the sort of thing a woman could become addicted to.


His searching hands continued their trail of fire down her body, tracing the curve of her waist and down her hips. Her breath caught and she gave a small moan.


Magic.


Ever downward he explored her thighs, her calves, and at last, the very tips of her toes. He lingered and stroked and searched. He caressed her as if he was memorizing every inch of her.


Her fingers grasped the sheets beneath her as pleasure flowed through her body.


Even with her eyes closed, Darcy would know the touch of his hands, the scent of his body. It was branded onto her heart, and no other man would ever be capable of stirring her with such desire.


"Please," she pleaded softly. "I need you, Styx."


"As I need you, my angel." There was a faint rustle as he dealt with his clothing, and then the cool, hard strength of him was stretched on the bed beside her. "As I will always need you. For all eternity."


His voice held a soft urgency that made his words a solemn pledge, and her eyes flew open to meet the dark glitter of his gaze.


"Styx, let's not speak of the future," she pleaded. "I only want to be in this moment."


He regarded her as if he wished to argue, but at last he gave a slow nod of his head.


"Then let us make this moment something to remember," he rasped.


Without warning, his mouth was on her own with a stark passion that instantly sent a shudder of excitement racing through her.


Her arms wrapped around his neck and she returned his hunger with ready enthusiasm. His lips were cool and demanding as they drank of her response. A deep growl rumbled in his throat as his hands greedily ran over her naked body, sparking pinpricks of fire over her skin.


His tongue entered her mouth as his fangs pressed her lips. She tangled her tongue with his, her head lifting to better enjoy the taste of him. Her fierce response caught him off guard, and Darcy suddenly had the copper taste of blood in her mouth.


At first she assumed he had nicked her with his fangs, but as he pulled back, she realized that it had been his own lip that had been cut. Instinctively she reached out to lick the bead of blood from his lip.


He made a startled sound of pleasure as his eyes flared with a smoldering fire.


"Yes," he breathed, lowering his head. "Please, angel ..."


Easily able to sense his need, Darcy tugged his lip into her mouth and gently sucked at the small wound. Obviously vampires enjoyed the act of donating blood as much as taking it.


Grasping her hips, he tugged her sharply against his thick arousal.


Darcy gave a small gasp at his tender assault. There was something more between them on this night. A sense that their passions were intertwined, each feeding the other until the very air was alive with desire.


Pulling back, Styx nibbled his way over her cheek and down to her chin. He waited until her head tilted instinctively backward before trailing his tongue down the pulsing vein. At the same moment he gave a gentle tug on her legs, pulling one over his hip so that his hand could slip between them.


Her nails dug into his shoulders as he teased her with a relentless expertise.


Oh .. . cripes. This magic was about to end way too swiftly.


"Not yet," she whispered as he nuzzled her aching breast.


He gave a low, utterly male chuckle, and without warning she found herself flat on her back with him poised above her.


"Now, my sweet angel," he warned her. "Most definitely now."


Her eyes widened as she watched his head dip down so he could trail a path of searing kisses down her body.


More than kisses, she acknowledged as he used his fangs and tongue to send her up in flames. Even the brush of his hair was a caress as it slid over her skin.


Her fingers returned to clutching the sheets as he slowly and methodically investigated every inch of her quivering body. The pleasure was nearly overwhelming, her senses honed to a near painful edge.


"Styx," she breathed, barely resisting the urge to grab his hair and drag him back up to cover her.


"Yes, angel?" he demanded while planting those maddening kisses over the gentle swell of her stomach.


"You said now."


He laughed softly as he settled even more firmly between her legs and nuzzled the inner softness of her thigh.


"So I did." His tongue stroked over her skin. "And I am always a man of my word."


Expecting him to shift over her, Darcy was unprepared when she felt a faint pressure and then Styx's fangs sliding deep into her thigh.


She gave a small yelp as she nearly leaped off the bed. Not in pain, or even fear. But simply in pure erotic bliss.


Nothing, nothing at all, could compare to the sensation of such an intimate vampire feeding.


With each pull her entire body tightened, spiraling higher and higher. Her heart thundered and her breath was locked in her lungs.


It was too much.


She gave a strangled moan and, as if waiting for that particular sound, Styx began moving with fluid speed. He kneeled between her spread legs, his hands shifting beneath her hips to lift her lower body off the mattress.


Darcy was briefly startled, feeling oddly vulnerable as he gazed down at her with smoldering desire. Then any coherent thought was vanquished as with one firm thrust he entered her.


Her teeth clenched as he stretched and filled her completely. She could feel him in every part of her body as if his essence was spreading through her very blood.


For a moment he held himself still, as if savoring the feel of being so deeply speared within her. Only when she was certain that she could bear no more did he slowly begin to rock his hips, pumping himself in and out of her with a steady pace.


Her legs wrapped around his waist as she welcomed him into her body, meeting each thrust with a lift of her hips.