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    I ignored that warning voice, ignored every thought in my self-righteous brain, because Nathan was touching me, so everything was all right.
    He slipped my T-shirt over my head and bent his face to my neck. It was nearly impossible to stay upright with his skin rubbing on mine, his mouth burning a trail across my collarbones. It was too much sensation after being apart too long, and when I moaned, felt an echoing shudder in his body.
    "I've missed this," he rasped, lifting my breasts in his hands to kiss the tops of them. "God, I've missed this. I've missed you."
    I clutched his hair in my fingers and held his face close. He smelled wonderful, like the sandalwood of his soap and the heavy opiate smell of the incense he burned in the shop. I almost screamed in need when his hands slid to my back and curved over my buttocks, pulling my vulnerable, naked flesh forward to make contact with the rough denim of his jeans. I reached between us and fumbled with the button at his waistband, and he pushed my hands away. "Wait, wait. Slow down. We've got all day."
    "I don't want to take all day," I panted, punctuating my statement with a firm tug at his jeans.
    His eyes darkened and he stared down at me for a long, silent moment. "I'm so glad you said that."
    In a few frantic seconds, he'd shucked his pants and pulled me to straddle him as he lay back on the bed. I gripped the base of his cock and squeezed, gliding my fingers up, over all the hard, straining length of him. He hissed and clutched at my thighs, and the desire I felt through the blood tie magnified my own. I rose above him and positioned him at my entrance. My flesh throbbed at the first touch of him; my body shuddered when he flexed his hips and slid inside.
    "God, Carrie," he managed through clenched teeth. "You feel so good." I wanted to answer him, to say something witty and self-assured, but he pressed his thumb to the hot, tingling bit of flesh at my center and all I could do was let out a hoarse cry. It had been far, far too long since I'd been with him like this. It was more than a physical connection. With the blood tie between us, I could read his thoughts, feel his desire and experience the pleasure he felt as if it were my own. My skin burned where his hands touched me, my body tensed and spasmed around his cock as I rode him. I lost track of the times I cried out in release, lost to the feeling of his thickness stretching and spreading me, the hard, ridged length of him pounding into me. When he grabbed my hips and jerked me down, so hard against him it was almost painful, I felt him throb inside me and fell forward onto his chest, my arms too weak to support myself.
    The tears that came to my eyes were unexpected. I swiped them away and carefully moved off of him, blocking him from the blood tie with what little mental strength I had left. He'd felt my sudden overload of emotion, though. The relief at being reunited with him. The uncertainty whether I could trust him to heal the wounds inflicted on him by his sire. But most of all the fear that I would be hurt again.
    His hands shook as they smoothed my tangled hair from my face. "You can trust me now, Carrie. You can trust me, because I can trust myself not to hurt you." I leaned against his cold skin, buried my face in his neck. The scent of my sire's blood, primal and familiar, filled my senses.
    I'd missed him so much—the feel of him under my hands, the weight of him, solid and

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    sure, at my side. As much as I hated the codependent notion of needing another person to make you "whole" the blood tie did make us two halves that were only completed by each other.
    It would be so much easier if I didn't love him.

    Chapter Three: Possessed

    Max couldn't believe her nerve.
    There Bella sat at the kitchen island, her head bent over a book, occasionally turning to take a bite from the