I'd crushed his heart, and no matter how many times Dracula might rise in old movies, Oliver was well and truly dead. Utterly certain that Primo's oath to us would hold him. He took hold of my arm, which he never does, and smiled over my head. I've only got three years to go until the big 3-0; so far panic has not set in.
He fed from their mouths in a way that the Dragon's presence in my head had told me about. Sorry, okay, you haven't made love to him, that better? I nodded. Touching just his hand was more distracting than touching so much more on most men. I trailed my fingers lower, tracing the line of his thigh.
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