Dark Studies (Arcaneology) by C. P. Foster Read Free Book Online Page B

settled lightly onto her skin and hair. Then she studied herself in the mirror to make sure she had every detail right. Her hair was black now and layered to coax its natural wave into loose curls. With her tan, she looked like a gypsy or perhaps a Creole. She wore a white halter dress splashed with bright red and orange poppies, something Steffen had picked out, and it provided her with additional clues as to the sort of woman he wanted. Someone playful, she thought, confident but no femme fatale. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on becoming that woman, and played over the character’s back story in her mind until it began to feel real.
    Her name was Grace Hamilton. The sun had just set, and her lover was on his way.
    The sound of the door opening made her heart skip a beat. If this was going to work, they both had to buy into it from the start, without hesitation. Neither of them could test the waters first. These were the last things Angie thought before letting Grace take over. With a cry of welcome, she ran to Steffen and pulled him down for a kiss. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. He responded carefully, then his reserve gave way to passion, and he tightened his hold to press her body hard against his.
    She gasped in a breath when they eased back. An attack of shyness caught her by surprise. She tipped her head to look at him. “Are you hungry?”
    His gaze lowered a few inches. One fingertip traced the path of her jugular vein. “Yes.”
    Grace took his hand and led him to the bed. He watched her crawl onto it and settle against the pillows. His expression was softer than she had ever seen, but his posture seemed wary. Beneath the character of Grace, Angie began to think this wasn’t going to work, that he couldn’t submerge himself in the fantasy.
    “You’re beautiful.” He said it like a lover, low and intimate. Angie stepped back into the shadows of her mind, satisfied.
    Steffen sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes before joining her. Instead of leaning over to strike, he took her shoulders and guided her to lie across his lap, cradling her in with one arm while his other hand positioned her head the way he wanted. He paused. Was something wrong? Grace turned to look at him and saw an unguarded expression cross his features. He said nothing, only tugged her back into place. Then he raised her higher so he could reach her throat with his cold lips. They rested there. Caressed the soft skin. His teeth transformed into fangs that drew thin lines over her pulse, making her shiver, and at last he sank them in deep.
    She hardly had time to feel the pain before pleasure overwhelmed it. She arched against him as he sucked blood from the wounds. Her breath caught. Warmth seeped out of her and into his mouth to spread throughout his body. It worked its way across his chest, down his arms, and lower. This was no fast-food meal—he took time to savor her, and she sensed his regret when he slowed to a stop.
    Grace opened her eyes to find a puzzled, almost vulnerable look on his face. She wanted to explore whatever lay behind it, but he had made her want something else more. Curling an arm around his neck, she raised her head to kiss him.
    A growl vibrated into her mouth. He eased her onto her back, stretched out so they lay close together, and deepened the kiss until her jaw ached. He’d grown hard against her thigh. Neither of them bothered to undress, simply pushed clothing out of the way enough for him to enter her. He was too tall to lie on top—it would have crushed her face under his chest—so while his hips pinned hers to the bed he kept his upper body twisted to the side, and he squeezed one breast, then the other with his large hand. When she bent a knee to wrap her leg around him, he reached down and held it there.
    “God.” Her fingernails bit into him as he pulled out a little ways, then pushed back in, finding a slow rhythm. How could she be so close so quickly?