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her hard as he flicked the first small buttons of her nightdress from their loops, exposing her throat, her chest, the upper curves of her breasts.
    She gripped his broad, solid shoulders, her tongue now deep in his hot, delicious mouth.
    She felt the points of his retracted fangs but forced herself not to retreat.
    She wanted to show trust…even if she wasn’t certain she could trust.
    Shadows lengthened as the moonlight disappeared, plunging them into a velvety dark.
    Althea knew the earl could see her but she was blind and she clung to him more tightly. He pulled her closer, until her breasts pressed against his chest and her hard nipples poked bands of solid muscle, beneath hot skin and coarse curls.
    His hands slid down to her bottom. Scandalously, he squeezed generous portions of her flesh with both his big hands and chuckled with masculine pleasure into her mouth.
    He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “What a perfect plump arse you have,”
    before he captured her mouth again.
    Gripping her cheeks, his lordship lifted her, slid his leg between hers, and lowered her so she straddled him.
    Oh God, she wore nothing under her nightgown. His naked thigh rubbed her naked nether lips and she blushed as her wetness coated his skin.
    He gave another chuckle, this one filled with pride. Just as in her dreams, he was terribly pleased with himself. She was soaking wet, embarrassingly so.
    As though he sensed her shyness, he lavished soft, sweet kisses on her eyebrows and lashes, her nose and cheeks, her forehead, her chin, until she giggled helplessly.
    He rocked his leg and the pressure felt so good. She let her head loll back as his hot mouth pressed to her throat.
    She stiffened and pulled away. “Are you going to bite me?”
    Did I ever bite you in a dream?
    “No, you didn’t but—” Althea broke off before she said ‘the other man.’ She couldn’t—
    absolutely couldn’t—say out loud that she had dreamed of another man and him.
    “No, angel. I’m not going to bite you. But I do want to taste you. Savor every delectable inch of you.” His lips skated down her throat, his tongue licked in the hollow. All the while, his thigh rubbed and rubbed. A wicked hunger blossomed there. He made her throb and she felt as though she floated in air, as though she could fly. Shift shape as he did, spread newfound wings, and soar.
    But his hand in her nether curls brought her sharply to earth. He’d slipped his other into the bodice of her nightdress. He cradled her breast, the heel of his hand pressed to her pounding Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 22
    heart. He stroked her curls, dipping his finger lower, into her moisture.
    She should stop. Must stop. Or was it far too late? Would he let her stop?
    Angel, I will stop when you wish.
    “You read my mind!”
    Only the signals of your body. Your tension. The startled look in your eyes. I am your servant tonight, love. I do only as you desire.
    His finger stayed at the very apex of her sex. Althea fought the desire to tip her hips up, to coax him to slide his finger inside her.
    “I don’t believe you!” she exclaimed in a whisper, even though she ached for more.
    And why not, my sweet?
    “Because you are a man and every woman knows what a man wants. And because—”
    What did you enjoy most in our dreams, Althea? What do you want me to do to you?
    Yes, she’d done all these things in dreams. But she couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t say such things.
    His tongue dipped into the valley between her breasts . Did you enjoy my mouth on your nipples ?
    “My lord, I—”
    “Yannick.”
    He was speaking aloud, not communicating in her mind, and she felt strangely relieved. She clung to the safer topic of conversation—his Christian name. “It’s French isn’t it?”
    “You want a French kiss?”
    He was teasing, she knew, but she couldn’t imagine what a French kiss would be. “Your name is French.”
    “My mother was