Her body felt pliable in his arms, precious even. Maybe knowing what she’d been through in her short life was the reason why he felt protective toward her. There could be no other reason for it. As for the lust she roused in him, the reason for it was undeniable: Ursula was the most enticing woman he’d ever met. Beautiful and exotic, strong and determined, and so passionate. Her sexual energy was impossible to overlook. It seemed to radiate from every pore of her tantalizing body. How a man could ever look at her and not be instantly tempted to haul her off to his bed was unfathomable to him.

At the thought, he felt a sharp stab in his chest, as if somebody were poking him with a blade. Reminded of how Blake had looked at her earlier, how he’d tried to use his—admittedly considerable—charm on her, drove Oliver to press his lips back onto hers to sear them with a kiss that he hoped would make her forget that his half-brother even existed.

Yes, he had to make sure Ursula only looked at him, only offered her sinful body to him. Tangling with her tongue, he captured more of her sweet taste, inhaled more of her scent. Like a cocoon, it wrapped around him, just like her arms embraced him, holding him close to her.

Releasing her lips, he issued his demand, “Touch me.”

Without missing a beat, her eyes still closed, her hands slid down to his ass.

“My cock, touch my cock.”

He pulled one of her hands from his backside and drew back just enough for her to slide her hand between them. When her warm palm cupped his straining hard-on a second later, he groaned loudly and sank his lips back on her neck, kissing her heated flesh.

“Yes, baby!” he encouraged her.

A bolt of electricity shot through him when she squeezed him. Instinctively, he pressed himself harder into her hand, asking her for more, demanding she repeat her action.

She did.

The pleasure she gave him with her touch was building with every stroke and every caress of her hand. Like an experienced temptress, Ursula traced the length of his erection with her fingernails, chasing every sane thought from his mind.

“Like that?” she whispered, her voice as breathless as his own.

“Just like that,” he mumbled against her skin, not wanting to remove his lips from her neck. He licked and nibbled, kissed and caressed purposely playful so as to keep himself from losing control. But he knew it was in vain. If she continued touching him like she did, he would have her naked underneath him in a short while. But was she ready for this? For him?

Or would she curse him when she came to her senses? Because he wasn’t any better than the vampires who’d taken her blood and . . . Oh God, he couldn’t even finish the thought of how else they had used her body. How could he, Oliver, dare to do the same?

Before he could answer the question for himself, he felt hands on his shoulders, ripping him away from Ursula. He stumbled backwards, crashing against the banister before he caught himself.

“What the—?”

His last word was shoved back into his throat by Blake’s fist landing in his face.

“Fucking asshole! You’re biting her? Jerk!” Blake cursed and swung again.

But Oliver had already recovered and caught the fist flying toward him once more. With a practiced blow, he catapulted his interfering half-brother against the wall, then pinned him there.

“I didn’t bite her, you idiot!” He tossed a sideways glance at Ursula, whose eyes had widened.

She shrunk back from him now, her hands nervously smoothing over her T-shirt. Her lips were swollen, her neck red from where he’d kissed her. Only now Oliver noticed that the overhead light in the corridor was on. Blake must have switched it on, and in his addled state, Oliver hadn’t even noticed. His vampire senses had deserted him while kissing Ursula.

Blake followed his look, his eyes traveling over Ursula’s body. “Then what . . . ” He stopped himself. “Oh! Jesus, Oliver! You’re still a jerk! After all she’s been through?”

Sobering, Oliver let go of him. Blake was right, but he would never admit it to him. He sought eye contact with Ursula, but she avoided his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Ursula. I don’t know what got into me.” It was a lie. Yes, he was sorry, but he knew what had gotten into him: Ursula. She’d gotten under his skin. She’d awakened desires in him that he hadn’t paid much attention to in his short life as a vampire. Was that why they were overwhelming him now, because he’d not stilled those desires in a while?

Ursula didn’t answer.

Christ, he felt like an ass. He’d seduced her, and by the looks of it now, she regretted having let herself go. And what added to her obvious embarrassment was that Blake had caught them in the act.