I don't know much about Evangeline. I don't know her favorite aria or her preferred reading genre or even what she likes to eat (other than possibly pizza, and I suspect that it's terrible here in Boston, compared to my beloved pizza in Napoli).

Given that she's a modern woman, and that modern women—hell, all women— confound me, I wouldn't hazard a guess at her preferences. But there is a vibration between us, something that seems to flow with ease.

Maybe it's sexual tension? Maybe my years-long celibacy has somehow affected my judgment? I almost laugh out loud because I'm thinking this while my face is buried between her legs.

We've known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and most of that time we've indulged in our physical desires. Not that there's anything wrong with that — as Damiano used to say, we might be undead, but we still need pleasure. "Why not indulge," he'd ask, then laugh.

Vampires live a life of tedious, grasping eternity, he'd add, but at least the occasional orgasm makes it somewhat tolerable. And to be sure, I have indulged from time to time. I try to keep sex separate from feeding, because one is sustenance and the other is practically spiritual.

God knows I want to indulge in this woman who is splayed before me. Fortunately for the both of us, I fed recently, so I don't need to satiate that particular need today. If I hadn't, I would've probably already drained Evangeline dry. 

Horniness and hunger are a painful combination for a vampire.

But there are a few other problems that I can't overlook, even if her pussy tastes delicious and her body feels perfect in my hands, like clay ready to be molded into a masterpiece.

I ease away from her pussy, replacing my tongue with my thumb. The added pressure on her clit drives her wild, I've discovered, and that makes my dick positively throb with need. So. Fucking. Satisfying.

But my dick needs to stay out of this. I'm aware of that fact. Sadly, my dick is one of the many problems right now.

Vampires like me aren't supposed to fuck or feed from halflings. This is codified in The Council's rules, ones that I agreed to hundreds of years ago. I'm treading on thin ice by kissing and stroking Evangeline, although I suspect the council would spare me because this is a means to an end.

At least that's what I'm telling myself. I'm doing a terrible job of finding out about her brother, although I suppose that will come later.

"Please, Matteo? Your tongue?" she whispers, as if helpless.

"Of course," I murmur, licking her once more. She sighs in such an indulgent way that I want to keep this up all day long.

Back to the problems...

She doesn't know that I know.

As I bring Evangeline to the brink of another orgasm with my tongue, my mind races with thoughts.

She doesn't know that I'm aware she's a half-vampire, half-human. And she doesn't know I'm a vampire. This is unsurprising, because halflings like her don't have a sophisticated sense of smell or taste, and their intuition isn't as developed as a full vampire's. I've heard the human side takes over when halflings are in the presence of full-blooded vampires, which means their senses are stunted.

I have a vague memory of being human and recall my lack of awareness in those areas.

At least, I don't think Evangeline is aware I'm a vampire; I've only met a few like her in my long life, and frankly, have tried to distance myself from them. Halflings are often physically stunning, like she is, but problematic. 

Like she is. And normally I despise problems, so...

If she did know what I am, she'd be far more afraid. It's my understanding that halflings have a deep fear of full vampires.

If she knows what I am, she wouldn't be begging me to bite her thigh. She wouldn't be thrusting herself into my mouth, wouldn't be pleading for me to give her relief over and over.

Thank god she ceased her pleas to bite her thigh; I think my oral abilities have made that particular request vanish.

As I lick and suck, I slip two fingers inside her, seeking that elusive, inner spot that will blow her mind. I can only imagine those human cretins she's been with have no idea what a G-spot is, much less how to find it.

I subtly move my fingers inside her and lift my head. She peeks through her fingers. "What are you doing to me? Maybe you should stop—"

As much as I want to destroy her brother — and possibly her, if she's on his side — I won't resort to sexual violence. That's a no-go as far as I'm concerned, in any circumstances. I slide my two fingers out of her and move up her body, kissing along the way. "You want me to stop?"

"No. Yes. I ... I don't know," she mumbles.

I gently clasp her wrists and pry her hands off her face. "What's wrong?"

Her face is flushed red, her eyes wide and panicked, her lips pink and kiss-stung. She's like a portrait of beauty, of unbridled lust, of fear and longing.

"I... I think I've had too many orgasms. I'm numb down there. I think we need to give her a little break." She dissolves into a giggle and folds into my chest, instantly charming me with her girlishness. Her earlier sarcastic exterior seems to have crumbled with the scraps of affection I've thrown her way.

I kiss her forehead. "Absolutely. We don't want you numb in such an important area. We'd like to be able to use it again."

She laughs again, tips her head back and lets out a mirthful sound that's up there with birds singing and champagne bubbles popping. I can't help but be affected by her, although I'm aware I shouldn't succumb to her many charms.

She could be every bit as dangerous as her brother, although I doubt it. She's like a particularly eager kitten, not a killer predator.

Evangeline runs a finger down my bare chest. "How about I make you feel good?"

Her hand finds its way to my crotch and she presses on my erection, evident under the leather pants.

She licks her lips. "Please? It would make me so happy to, you know. Suck. Please?"

Why can't I resist her when she says this word? "Is that what you want?"

She nods, her eyes big and shining.

"Okay. I happen to prefer something other than lying on the floor for that, so..." I move stealthily to a nearby red velvet chair and sit, spreading my legs.

She crawls a few feet toward me, her pale skin glowing in the light of the fire. Her hair is wild and matted, the color of the flames. When she settles between my legs on her knees, she looks up.

We stare at each other as I slowly unbutton and unzip my pants. Her eyes drift downward as she watches me stroke myself, then she glances back up.

"You're big."

I lift a shoulder. "I guess."

With a grin, she leans forward, hands on my knees. I angle my dick into her mouth, and the second she licks it, I clasp her hair in one hand and exhale. Hell yes, sweet Evangeline.

She takes the entire tip into her mouth, and it's the most exquisite feeling. Like nothing I've experienced before.

"Take it all in," I groan.

She does, and I tip my head back, reveling in the sensation. My balls tighten, and a fluttering surge spreads through my groin.

And then, a thought slams into me:

Evangeline is my mate.

I don't know where the thought has come from, or why. I've never had it with any other woman, and it strikes a column of fear down my spine. It's so unsettling that I grip her hair harder, which inspires her to moan while deep throating me.

I look down at her and only one word is in my thoughts as I take in her curvy ass, the slope of her back, the grace of her spine.

Mine.

No fucking way. She can't be. Can she? I'd always heard from other vampires that discovering your mate usually happened during a sex act, when one least expected.

Panic slices through me.

I need to be alone to process. This is all wrong, and we must stop. Now. 

I must talk myself out of this stupid notion. My lust turns to ice as fear takes over. Worried that my dick is about to deflate in her mouth — which would be supremely embarrassing and impossible to explain — I pull her up by her hair. It will be better for both of us if I end this swiftly.

"Evangeline," I say harshly. "You need to leave, now."