He swallowed and carried her through the small apartment and to the only doorway from the living room. Her bedroom was decorated in rich purples and blues…with scarlet accents. A room for passion.
Who was this woman? He’d have centuries to figure that out.
Careful not to jostle her, he set her on the bed.
Her gaze dropped, and her face flushed. Shyness all but rolled off her along with a hint of panic.
Hell. He crouched down until she faced him. “It’s okay, baby.”
She blinked. “This is weird. I mean, you’re sexy as hell and anybody would want you, and I do. But I don’t know you.” She looked over his shoulder at the doorway. “Maybe we should get drunk.”
The woman was adorable. He chuckled. “There’s not enough booze in the city to really get me drunk, and I’m not sure your heart could take a sedative. How about I show you what I’ve learned in four centuries?”
Interest filtered through the embarrassment in those spectacular eyes. “You’ve got skills, huh?” A small smile played with her pink lips.
“Yeah.” He wrapped a hand around her arm and drew her toward him, gently taking her mouth.
She sighed against him and returned his kiss—tentatively at first and then with more strength. Her hands flattened against his chest, and she moved into him even more. She suddenly coughed.
He leaned back. “Veronica?”
She shuddered and clasped a hand against her chest. The color deserted her face. “Um.”
Shit. He jumped up and ripped his clothes off, grateful he was still hard from their play on the couch. “Hurry.”
Her eyes widened, and she stood, her fingers fumbling with her shirt.
He could hear her heart slowing. “Sorry.” Grabbing her shirt, he ripped it down the front.
Her chuckle was more of a wheeze.
He yanked off her jeans, gently finding her core. Wet. She was a little wet from earlier. Thank God. “Okay. This first time is going to be quick.”
She nodded, her lips turning blue.
Damn it. She wasn’t getting any oxygen to her face. Her heart was only stuttering its last minutes. He paused, grasping her hips. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes clear. “I want to live, Jared.”
Good enough. He laid her back and covered her. “I’m sorry.”
She widened her thighs. “Hurry up,” she wheezed.
He pressed his forehead to hers, willing her heart to keep beating. Slowly, as carefully as he could, he started to enter her. She was too fucking tight—and warm. He had to halt.
She dug her nails into his ass. “Hurry,” she whispered.
Closing his eyes, he shoved inside her completely. She arched against him, pain on her hiss.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Whoa. You’re huge,” she said, a smile playing on her pale lips.
He coughed out a laugh. How could she joke right now? His heart warmed. So did his dick. She pulsed around him, tight and hot. Wet. Perfect. He slowly slid out to shove back in.
She blinked. “That feels…good.” Her smile was weak but there. “Again.”
He did as she said, setting up a good rhythm that was as gentle as he could be. She rocked against him, her ankles clasping at his back. Color slid into her face. “It’s been a while,” she said, wonder in her voice.
