I smiled. “She’s the only one who gets to call him Arthur. That’s sign enough.”

He chuckled. “In the same way that you’re the only one who gets to call me Ethan in that particular tone.”

From the gleam in his eyes, I assumed he meant a seductive tone. “I better be. I hear anyone else is taking liberties, and we need to have a serious talk.”

“You’re the only one I allow to take liberties,” he said, and the gleam in his eyes deepened.

There was something about this sexy, beautiful man in this sexy, beautiful library that made my mouth dry.

“Then I should take advantage,” I said, and walked toward him, put my hands on his thighs.

I slid my hands from his lean thighs to his lean abdomen, felt his sharp intake of breath, the clench of muscles beneath my hands. His body was warm beneath my hands, seemed to radiate heat.

I lifted my gaze to his; the green of his eyes had deepened. He watched me with intent interest, and with the arousal we’d already halted twice tonight.

“I have plans,” I said, adjusting my body against his. I tangled my hands in his hair, pulled his mouth toward mine, and sank in. At other times, there might be kisses of love, of companionship, of solidarity. This was a kiss of banked passion, of heat, of promise. Ethan’s throat grumbled possessively, predatorily, as he deepened the kiss, tilted his body toward mine.

He pulled back, stared at me with silvered eyes languid with desire. “We should take this upstairs.”

I shook my head. “Here. Right here.” Others had had their fun tonight. I figured I was due.

Ethan opened his mouth to argue but then closed it again and slyly. “Very well, then.” He walked to the double doors, locked them with a loud metallic click that echoed across the room. When he stalked back, he picked me up, set me on the table, and stepped between my thighs. He was already rigid, already ready, and he moved a hand between our bodies to ensure that I was, too. He didn’t have to worry. I closed my eyes, arched back against passion.

Sensation pummeled me, and the first golden arc of pleasure swept over me like a firestorm, igniting every nerve in my body. “Ethan,” I cried, nails digging into his shoulders as I worked to keep my grip on him, on reality.

My head spinning, I focused on stripping him of clothing. His shirt, mine, hit the floor, were joined by pants, shoes. And then we were naked in the middle of the Cadogan library, his body lean and hard with muscle and desire. I put a hand on the flat of his abdomen, watched his defined muscles stiffen.

“You are beautiful,” I said, lifting my gaze to him. His eyes were silver now, his fangs bared, his gorgeous face framed by hair that gleamed golden in the moonlight. To an unsuspecting mortal, he’d have been terrifying. But to a vampire, to me, he was the embodiment of life and energy and strength. He was passion and desire, the hunger that would never really be sated, the eternal craving.

He put his hands on my face, stared at me for a long moment before setting his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply. This time, I moved a hand between our bodies, finding him and driving him further.

He braced a hand on the table, eased me back, and thrust into me with power that had me sucking in air. Then we moved together, illuminated by the shafts of moonlight that speared down from the room’s high windows. Heat and magic flared again, and I arched my neck to him and felt the press and pinch of his fangs all the way to my core, as if he’d reached the very well of my soul to the love that bound us together.

Our movements became more frantic, more desperate, as we climbed higher, grew closer, breathed faster. His thrusts deepened and he pulled away from my neck, groaning as he reached his ascent.

The sound—deep and primal—sent me over the edge, and I followed him over the top.

•   •   •

For several minutes—or maybe a few hours; I wasn’t really in a position to calculate—we lay together, naked and sweaty, on the top of the library table.

“He is going to lose his mind about this,” Ethan said, humor in his voice.

There was no need to ask which “he” Ethan meant. “Probably so. You’ll have to increase his budget.”

“Trust me, Sentinel. He wants for nothing.” Carefully, he climbed off the table, then offered a hand to help me up.

I had to sit on the edge of the table for the few seconds until my head stopped spinning. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s one of my”—I couldn’t help snorting—“favorite rooms in the House.”

“Well, now, certainly.”

Standing in front of the table, Ethan put his hands on his hips. And there, naked in his House and the library he’d built for it, he surveyed his demesne. “It’s very freeing, standing here naked in my library.”

“I imagine it would be. And you’ve earned it, given how much you apparently pay for it.” I hopped off the table, but kept a hand on the edge just in case my knees wobbled, and began collecting my clothes.

“Oh, I’ve earned it,” he said with a salacious grin. “Shall I earn it again?”

I put a hand on his chest. “I love you. I do. But we’re twenty minutes from dawn, and I would kick you in the shin to get to a shower right now.”

He shook his head. “And so our romance begins to fade, even before the afterglow has worn off.”

I pulled on pants and a shirt, nodded toward the windows. “We don’t get out of here soon, we’re going to experience an entirely new variety of ‘afterglow.’ And we won’t survive that one.”