My Lady Vampire by Sahara Kelly

desired.
    She flowed over his tongue like a waterfall of red fire, hot life and burning passion--he tasted it all as he drank from her. She was the universe condensed into one stream of sweetness that ran freely into his mouth and down his throat.
    He drank her, drank all that she was, and let her soul touch his in that moment out of time.
    The bliss of their orgasm was magnified, intensified beyond the earthly, and they soared, joined in body and blood, souls twining around each other in ecstasy, far beyond mortal dreams and limitations.
    Finally, the pulsing of their muscles eased, and Adrian withdrew his fangs, sated to exhaustion as he slumped onto Kitty’s languid body.
    He wanted to laugh, to shout with joy, to tell the world how wonderful he felt at that moment. He could do none of those things, only lift himself slightly away from his woman and look at her in wonder. “Kat…my Kat…”
    He stilled as she opened her eyes and looked back at him. Her expression was unreadable, but her words were clear as a bell in the silence that rested between them.
    “Oh my God. This is real .”
    - - - -
     
    Katherine surfaced from her dream in a bath of sweat, shaking uncontrollably and with a heavy lassitude about her legs and body that astounded her.
    She actually felt as if she’d experienced a massive release of sexual passion--something unheard of for her. She’d had the odd dream, known an unexplained longing or two in her youth, and imagined that lovemaking might involve something stirring to the heart--such imaginings being quickly shattered with her marriage to Matthew Byerly.
    Sex had revealed itself to be uncomfortable, hurried, uneventful and--towards the end of their union--an ordeal.
    After Matthew’s death, sex had become a threat held over her head by Arthur Byerly, Matthew’s cousin. Large and bullying, Arthur was determined to wed and bed Katherine, using whatever means lay available to him to achieve his goal.
    He’d held the purse strings thanks to an appallingly awful legal wrangle over Matthew’s will, leaving Katherine exactly where he wanted her--at his mercy. He’d been unwilling to permit her the luxury of a companion, only allowing it when he realized he could not stay under her roof with her unless one was present.
    Jessie had been the fourth such woman, the first three being conscious of their duties as protectors to Widow Byerly and rapidly dismissed by Arthur. Jessie had gone one step further and actively encouraged Katherine to get the hell out of Byerly Grange and away from the greedily lascivious Arthur.
    She’d been the right person at the right time, and Katherine’s lips twisted bitterly every time she remembered the payment Jessie had received.
    It should have been her. It should have been Katherine lying still and cold on the ground of Southern England, not the vibrantly alive Jessie.  Death would have brought peace to Katherine, and freedom. Or at least she imagined it would. Certainly it would have ended the monotonous routine of repelling Arthur, of insisting she would not wed, and finally barring her door each night with a large piece of furniture.
    Even now she could hear the screech of wood on wood as she dragged her bureau into place. She should never have had to experience such horrors. Nor should she have had to experience Arthur’s ceaseless lust for her and his clumsy efforts to fondle her. She wondered if her rescuers knew that some of the bruises on her body were not from her accident, but from Arthur’s rough handling.
    No, there was little left for Katherine Edgeworth Byerly to live for. Marriage to Arthur was an utter and complete impossibility and her financial situation would not permit her to live alone.
    Up until a few hours ago, Katherine would probably have gone willingly to her grave. Now…now there was something else to consider. Something that had awoken inside her as she dreamed.
    Passion . The promise that her body could respond to the touch of a