It probably hadn't even occurred to Tula to ask because she'd never been with an immortal male before. She must have experienced one venom bite that had induced her transition, but it hadn't been accompanied by sex. For young girls, thebite was enough, and the experience couldn't compare. Even the euphoric trip was diminished in comparison with the full effect.
Esag's fangs tingled at the thought of giving Tula this unique pleasure that only an immortal male could give her. Tula's lovers had all been human, so she'd never experienced it.
Was it safe, though?
It should be. He didn't remember anyone mentioning it back when immortal families were common, and children were born to them. If abstinence was required during pregnancy, he would have heard about it.
The doorbell rang, and Esag's heart lurched.
He took a deep breath, smoothed his shirt, and walked to the door.
When he opened it, his breath caught.
Tula stood on his doorstep, wearing a loose silk gown in a deep purple that draped elegantly over her curves and the gentle swell of her pregnant belly. Her dark hair was swept up in a simple twist, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face, and she'd done something with her makeup that made her eyes look enormous and luminous.
She was magnificent.
"Hi," she said, and there was a nervous edge to her voice that made him feel slightly better about his own anxiety.
"Hi." He stepped back to let her in. "You look beautiful."
A smile curved her lips. "Thank you. You look good enough to…" She laughed nervously. "You look good."
Tula being shy?
That was a surprise.
Smiling, he closed the door behind her, and for a moment they just stood in the entryway, looking at each other, the air between them feeling charged.
"Something smells good," Tula said, and he had a feeling she'd only said that to break the uncomfortable silence.
"That's an elaborate illusion designed to make you think I can cook." He gestured toward the dining room. "My culinary skills are extremely limited. If you were expecting something fancy, you're going to be disappointed."
"I wasn't expecting a fancy dinner. I was expecting you."
The honesty and directness of her words were startling, but welcome.
That was the Tula he knew, the Tula he was desperately attracted to. She wasn't shy, she wasn't demure, and she wasn't hesitant.
He led her to the dining room, pulling out her chair before taking his own seat across from her. The table looked too nice for the meal he'd prepared, with candles flickering and wine already poured into crystal goblets. The pasta and salad, on the other hand, looked almost shameful in their containers.
"This is lovely." Tula smiled. "And you told me not to expect anything fancy. That looks pretty fancy to me."
"Wait until you take your first bite. You'll change your mind."
She laughed, and the sound loosened some of the tension in his chest. "I promise that I won't." She eyed the covered pasta dish. "I'm hungry, and this smells incredible."
This was Tula—sharp-tongued, fierce, beautiful Tula. He knew her better than she'd suspected. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable, shared visions with her across great distances, and held her hand while she showed him pictures of her baby. Their connection had started five thousand years ago but had lain dormant until she'd first appeared in his vision.
He served her pasta, watching anxiously as she twirled noodles around her fork and took her first bite. Her expression was unreadable for a moment—and then she smiled.
"This is good."
"You don't need to lie to spare my feelings. I'm a big boy."
The look she gave him was enough to make him harden in an instant. The hunger in her eyes had nothing to do with pasta.
"I'm not lying. It's simple, but it's tasty." She took another bite. "I like simple dishes. Especially lately. I'm always hungry." She looked at him from under her long, thick lashes, hinting at a double entendre.
