Blood Wyne by Yasmine Galenorn

knew that, at least Earthside, as vampires aged the territory battles increased. Like lions, only one king could rule over a defined area without a fight breaking out. Which explained why Roman’s brothers and sisters had spread throughout the world, except for the two still living with Blood Wyne. But with Roman around here, it meant that he’d be the oldest and most powerful in the area.
    He inclined his head, his gaze beckoning me. “As you will, my lady.” He paused. “Do you dance?”
    I nodded, thinking about my dream.
    He stood and held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. I said nothing as he led me to a door on the left. With a faint smile, Roman drew me through and I gasped as we entered the long chamber that had been in my dream. I wasn’t wearing a fancy dress, but everything else seemed the same.
    Roman placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slid my jacket off, tossing it to the side where it fell against the floor.
    With a snap of his fingers, music filled the chamber—wild and free. A piercing ululation gave way to thundering drums, and a woman’s sultry voice swept in to enshroud us in its rhythm.
    And then we were dancing, spinning and turning, a combination of tango and waltz. Faster we went, our feet barely skimming the ground, and I found myself laughing at the pure joy of movement. Roman’s eyes flashed, sparkling, as he tightened his grip around my waist and his right hand grasped my own. He broke into a smile that reminded me of a triumphant wolf as he whirled me around the room.
    As the song faded, he tumbled onto a backless divan, pulling me down on his lap. I was still laughing, but as I met his gaze, desire flared, sparking off a hunger in me that I hadn’t felt for a man since I’d been on the back of Smoky, getting hot and heavy with Vanzir.
    Vanzir had promised a wild ride, free of fear that I might hurt my partner, but somehow, we’d never followed through to the actual act. Rozurial had been a delightful lover, but he was too gentle in spirit, even more gentle than my Nerissa.
    With Nerissa, I had passion and love and I never minded holding back, making certain I didn’t lose it and attack her in a fit of blurred hunger and excitement.
    But male lovers? I wasn’t looking for emotional attachments. With men, I wanted a no-holds-barred fuckfest where I could let my inner predator out without fear. And Roman smelled like pure, unadulterated sex.
    The music shifted to Gary Numan’s “Strange Charm” and I stopped laughing. I leaned forward, straddling Roman’s legs, and crawled up him as he lay back, our gazes locking.
    On my hands and knees, staring down at him, the music was the only sound filling the room. And then, before anything else happened, I whispered, “I can’t be anything for you but this. I am in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, and my heart belongs to her, but we have given each other permission to play with the boys.”
    He reached up and his fingers traced my face, cupping my chin as he pushed himself to a sitting position so that I was straddling his lap, staring into his face. “I will never ask you for love. There is no place in my heart for such emotion. But Menolly, I desire you. I want you and I have enough respect for you not to force the issue. If you choose to grace me with your body, then I will be a most willing and attentive playmate.”
    That was all the encouragement I needed. I leaned forward and his lips caught mine, and then we were standing, his hands under my ass, holding me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I pushed the memory of Dredge out of my thoughts—he was the only other vampire I’d ever fucked, and only because he’d raped and tortured me, so I’d had no choice.
    But Roman . . . Roman’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he carried me over to a thick rug in front of a fireplace and laid me down on the floor. I reached for my jeans, but he stopped me.
    “Let me undress you.”
    “I need