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in her throat, the feel of his hands gliding over her skin. Wanted him and really didn’t give a shit about wrong or right, or anything but satisfying the hot need he inspired.
    She realized she was staring at him, at the hard elegance of his body. At the strength in those big hands. At the cock curving over his ridged belly and pointing at his chin, ready and arousing.
    “You don’t want to tell me no, do you?” His hand drifted down the length of his beautiful chest, coming to rest over his belly button, thumb pointing at his delicious erection, fingers spread. She wanted to touch him more than she wanted to feel that big hand on her skin.
    “You’re a submissive.”
    Zara started, her eyes flying to meet his, her lips parted instinctively on a lying denial.
    “Don’t bother. I sensed your reaction when I handcuffed you.” Golden eyes watched her with hooded interest. “I heard your heart leap when the cuffs closed around your wrists. It beat even faster when you felt me behind you at the perfect distance to bite or kiss -- you didn’t care which.”
    “I… I… You…” She stammered, couldn’t think of a lie -- and realized she didn’t want to tell one anyway.
    She felt what she felt. Needed what she needed. And it didn’t matter what she was supposed to feel, supposed to want. She wanted what she wanted, and she was going to take it.
    Take him .
    * * *
    “I need a bloodslave.” Rand said the words boldly, watching her eyes flicker as she reacted. Yeah, she was a submissive. It was obvious in the tremble of that soft mouth, and the jut of the nipples beneath her borrowed uniform. “And you need a dominant. That’s what you fantasize about, isn’t it? A man willing to do all things to you that you’ve ever dreamed of. You crave that every bit as much as you need my blood.”
    She looked away, a beautiful blush spreading over the lovely contours of her face. “Yes.”
    “Yes, what?” Damned if he’d let her off the hook. He did not want any confusion or doubt or simple misunderstanding about what either of them wanted. It would be too easy otherwise to make a mistake, especially given how much he needed her. Wanted her.
    “Yes, I want a dominant.” He felt his cock lengthen another inch at the erotic possibilities in those exquisite eyes. “I’ve always had fantasies about…” She swallowed. “You. Vampires.”
    “That’s why you became a bloodsub.”
    “V.S.S.,” she corrected. “Vampire support specialist.”
    He laughed, though not at her. When she shot him an offended glare, he elaborated. “It always amuses me, how the military has to invent acronyms, prettying everything up.”
    Her expressive mouth flattened. “You mean the way your colonel talked about making me talk without ever using the word ‘torture?’”
    “First, he’s not my colonel. But yeah, he is a son of a bitch. And like I told you, I’m not going to let him touch you.”
    “How are you going to stop him? He outranks you.”
    “You let me worry about that. All you need to know is that I take my responsibility to my submissives seriously. That means I don’t do anything they don’t like. So what do you like?”
    “I don’t know.” Her gaze slid away from his again. “I’ve never done… this before.”
    “Well, what do you fantasize about?” And God, he’d love to hear all about any kinky thing she wanted to tell him.
    She smiled, her expression open. Honest. “I fantasize about a lot. But there can be a lot of ground between fantasy and what someone likes in reality.”
    “Then I’ll give you a safe word -- a code to use if I do something you don’t like. Or if something hurts more than you want.”
    “How about the words, ‘stop, dammit’?”
    “Smartass. The code is ‘abort.’ Use it. And I’m not just talking about when something hurts physically. I mean if you start having a panic attack or it just gets too damn intense for you.” He met her gaze, his own level, ignoring his