A shudder of pleasure arced through his body. For centuries he had sought out vampires and demons to ease his needs. The fierce, mindless sex suited his frustrated mood. Besides, human women were a complication he didn't need.

Now he realized just how much he had been missing.

The soft, lingering touch.

The scent of female desire.

The delicious foreplay that made him quiver with longing.

As if reading his mind, Abby lowered her head to press her lips to his chest. With open-mouthed kisses she moved to suckle his sensitive nipple, her hands stroking down the hard muscles of his stomach.

"Bloody hell," he groaned as she briefly hesitated and then grasped his straining erection in a tender grip.

"Maybe you're not the only one with skills, lover," she teased as she stroked him from top to bottom and back again.

Dante hissed at the exquisite sensations that jolted through him. Skills? No. Her touch was not mere skill. It was magic.

His hips instinctively rocked to thrust his cock in her grip. God, it felt so good.

Too good.

Astonishingly he could sense the delicious pressure building deep within him. His climax was already beaconing, and he was far from finished with this woman.

Gritting his teeth, Dante concentrated on the feel of her beneath his fingers. He conjured all the expertise he had gained over the centuries to heighten her stimulation. Her moan of pleasure was all he needed to assure him that he hadn't lost his touch.

"Gome for me, Abby," he whispered softly.

Her breath quickened as her fingers tightened upon him.

"Dante…"

'That's it, lover," he encouraged, using his thumb to bring her to the edge.

Lost in the delight of watching her face as she neared her climax, Dante was unprepared when she suddenly stilled above him, a small smile touching her lips.

"Abby?" he questioned softly.

Her smile widened, and the water churned as she abruptly shifted her weight. With a speed that caught Dante off guard, she rolled to one side, easily pulling him atop her. He floundered for a moment and might have protested at the sudden interruption if her legs hadn't parted and wrapped about his waist.

Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands.

"You started this, Dante; you finish it," she murmured with a gleam in her eyes.

Dante chuckled as she tossed his words back into his face.

Oh yes.

He intended to finish this.

To both their satisfaction.

His chuckle became a groan as he pressed himself into her ready heat. She lifted her hips to meet his thrust, and he knew if he wasn't already dead, she would surely kill him.

What man could endure such bliss?

Thank God he was a vampire.

He intended to endure the bliss several more times before the day was through.

Some time later, Abby lay wrapped in Dante's arm in the middle of the vast bed.

She felt pleasantly weary and sated. Just as a woman should feel after a great bout of sex.

Unfortunately she also felt more than a little creeped out.

She cringed as she lightly stroked her fingers over Dante's shoulder, which was still reddened from the steam.

Who knew?

She had reached climax before. Well, at least what passed for a climax, considering the jerks she had dated. She had even reached climax with Dante. Glorious, wonderful, mind-numbing climax.

More than once.

And while she might have felt as if she were on fire whenever he touched her, she had never actually put out enough heat to boil water.

It was… unnatural. And embarrassing.

And, most of all, frightening.

Sensing Dante's curious gaze, Abby reluctantly lifted her head.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

His brows drew together in puzzlement. "For what?"

She grimaced. "Nearly boiling you like a lobster."

A slow smile curved his lips as he pulled her even closer.

An instant jolt of excitement raced down her spine at the feel of his stirring body.

Jeez. Vampires seemed to be insatiable when it came to sex. Not that she was complaining. In fact, her first thought was, Yippee.

"A very, very happy lobster," he murmured. "I assure you that it was worth every singe."

She bit her bottom lip, her self-disgust returning with a vengeance.

"Dante."

He stroked a finger down her flushed cheek. "It wasn't your fault, Abby. You have powers now you don't even understand, let alone control. It's bound to cause a few side effects. Some of which are more pleasant than others."

Her flush deepened as he deliberately reminded her of her brand-spanking-new strength and seemingly endless endurance.

All gifts of the Phoenix, it seemed.

And incredible bonuses when it came to making love.

"I'm glad you can find some humor in the situation."

The silver eyes glinted with amusement. "Trust me, lover, you can laugh or you can cry. It changes nothing."

"Easy for you to say," she grouched. "You don't know what it's like to have your body taken over and…" Her words abruptly trailed away as he arched a raven brow. "Oh."

"You were saying?"

"Something incredibly stupid," she muttered wryly. "I guess you do know."

He gave a slow nod. "Too well."

She blew out an exasperated breath. "You'd think if some being was going to take over your body, they'd at least have the decency to leave you a handbook. I could kill myself or, worse, someone else with my blundering about."

He absently toyed with a curl that lay against her cheek. "I suppose a higher being assumes that you should simply know the rules and regulations."

"A higher being?"

"The Phoenix is worshipped as a goddess by those who battle the dark lord."

Worshipped. Well. A girl could get used to something like that.

"A goddess, huh?" She attempted what she assumed to be a regal look. It had a lot of thin lips and flared nostrils. "Does that mean you have to bow down and pray to me?"

He chuckled softly, that wicked glint returning to his silver eyes.

"I don't battle the dark lord, lover," he murmured, his lips brushing her temple, her cheek, and down the curve of her neck, "but I don't mind bowing down and tasting this glorious sweetness."

Abby didn't mind his bowing down either. In fact, if she wasn't so freaked out, she would have told him to get on with the bowing down right quick.

Instead, she lightly touched his face. "Dante…"

Nibbling at her collarbone, he was already distracted. "Hmmm?"

"I don't want to hurt you," she said softly.

Dante stilled before he pulled back to regard her with a puzzled expression. Her heart gave a faint flutter. God, he was so beautiful. So perfect. She could spend the rest of eternity simply staring at him.

'You won't hurt me, Abby," he assured her in low tones.

"How do you know? When I…" Abby awkwardly hesitated. "When we're together, the powers just burst out of me."

His lips twitched at her shyness. No surprise there. She was lying naked in his arms after a three-hour bout of sex.

Now she couldn't say the word orgasm out loud.

Go figure.

"I'm willing to take the risk."

Her lips thinned at his hint of amusement. 'This isn't a joke, Dante."

His eyes slowly narrowed. "Abby, what is it?"

"It's dangerous—"

"No," he interrupted. 'You know I'm immortal. There's something else. You're frightened."

She shifted. He was probing into memories and emotions she had kept locked away for years.

Memories she would have seared out of her brain if she could have.

"Of course I'm frightened," she muttered. "I have this thing inside that's changing everything, and I can't do a damn thing to stop it."

His hand stroked a soothing path through her hair. "Understandable, but I think there's more here. Tell me what you fear."

She swallowed heavily before forcing herself to meet his probing gaze.

"Losing control."

"Control of what?"

"Of myself." She sucked in a deep breath. "What if I hurt someone?"

There was a brief silence as he brooded upon her words. Then with care he shifted to touch the ugly scar that marred her shoulder.

"Like someone hurt you?"

Abby flinched. Not from his touch, but from the pain of dredging up her violent past.

"Compliments of my father in one of his drunken furies," she said in clipped tones.

Dante's expression remained stoic, but there was no mistaking the lethal fury that flashed through his eyes.

"What did he do to you?"

"He took exception to my attempts to keep him from beating my mother and stabbed me with a broken beer bottle."

His fangs abruptly shimmered in the faint candlelight. He moved his hand to touch the tiny round scar on her upper arm.

"And here?"

Abby shuddered, her blood running cold.