Yes, you’d better. I wriggled closer to him, soaking up his warmth.

How could I be so afraid of his teeth, yet so intrigued by the rest of him? I breathed in his scent as his hand snaked around me, pulling me closer. The size of his body, the smoothness of that coal-gray skin… I was aware that he still wore trousers, hiding himself from me, but his cock was hard as stone behind those laces.

I reached out, tentative in my own way, and rested a hand on his chest.

Would he push me away if I tried to touch him?

Bane’s eyes glimmered faintly in the dark. “What are you doing, my Cirri?”

His Cirri. It almost took my breath away.

Touching you. I knew he wouldn’t understand, but I still signed. I’m curious about you. 

To make my point, I splayed my hand on his chest once more, his skin like velvet against my callused fingers.

Then I trailed them down, moving over the hard muscle of his stomach, tracing the contours of the ridges and valleys…

He took my hand, stopping me in my path. “You are afraid of me.”

I looked up at him, at those eyes gleaming with yellow nightshine in the darkness.

“You have good reason to be.” His smile flashed, the faintest moonlight catching the edges of his fangs, and a chill ran down my spine. “I won’t allow you to force yourself to touch me. But if you let me… I’ll show you that you don’t need to fear.”

It wasn’t his touch I feared, only his bite. My own muscles were rigid, still tense from Wyn’s accurate accusations, and to Bane, who was sensitive to the body language of prey… that must feel like I was terrified, forcing myself to be here.

But I would have to get my journal to make myself clear, and I didn’t want to get up from the warm circle of his arms.

Instead I nodded, still looking him in the eye, and carefully removed my hand from the cage of his claws to put it on his chest again with a very deliberate motion.

He exhaled, his disfigured lips twisting into a smile. He slipped his hand around me again, stroking my waist through the thin gown. His thumb brushed the bottom curve of my breast, and despite the fangs on display, my nipples hardened to tight buds.

“Do you trust me to touch you?” he asked, and I nodded again.

His hands were so soft and warm. Every movement was thought out, his claws held away from my flesh. He stroked with the pads of his fingers, moving his palm down over my thigh.

I tensed only for a moment, when he bunched the edge of my gown in his fist, and Bane waited until I relaxed.

It’s not you, I signed. I’ve never really been one for getting naked in front of people. 

I’d met the Cathedral hostler in the attic atop the Sisters’ stables, where the light was poor. He’d seen me nude in bits and pieces, but most of our trysts were done quickly and clumsily in the dark. As for the bowyer’s apprentice, it was the same: on my rare evenings off from studies or work, we would meet in the park, or occasionally a cheap room in an inn, and we never took the time to study one another. They were meetings to release tension, to have a quick connection with another human, little more.

But Bane was neither a gangly lad nor a taciturn man. I sensed his own curiosity, his own desire, swamped by the need to be careful.

So I stroked his hand, encouraging him.

He held his breath, drawing it up over my thighs, his fingertips never leaving my skin. He trembled.

It was that little quiver of the fingers that destroyed me inside.

Touch me, I signed, and put my hand on his cheek, cupping him in my palm.

He finally let out his breath, sliding the gown up over my hip. His hand rested on the curve, fingers tightening for a fraction of a second as though he meant to grab me fully.

But he moved his hand upward, over my stomach, until he cupped a breast. His thumb brushed my nipple, sending a shiver of pleasure through my nerves.

I would never be able to speak my desires aloud, but I had learned to express the sounds of my pleasure through breath: a soft gasp, an exhale of ecstasy. But I’d had to think about those, how to express myself to men who weren’t there to listen, but only to feel for a brief time.

With Bane, I didn’t have to think. I drew in a sharp breath, my back arching, and he squeezed again, kneading my breasts as his own breathing grew raspier.

His hand moved down, the very tips of his claws leaving pink lines on my skin, and he gently pushed my legs apart.

I had to trust him, as much as I wanted him to trust me, so I didn’t fight. I obeyed his silent order, my skin aflame from the way he looked at me, with hunger and barely-restrained lust. His cock was pulsing with his heartbeat against my leg as he traced his claws from my inner knee to the apex of my thighs, and my clit tingled with anticipation.

But Bane hesitated, swallowing, and a thrill of fear spiraled through me. His claws were sharp, and compared to him I was fragile, as delicate as glass.

But terror was a bedfellow to lust; adrenaline hummed in my veins, my nerves icy with fear and burning with desire. I had felt it for him before and it returned now, consuming me, a desperate need to feel him.

My stomach flipped as his head lowered, his forked tongue slipping between his fangs.

The twinned tips flickered over my breast, tasting me. They split, wrapping around my nipple and tightening before Bane released me. He snarled deep in his throat, and the primal need in that sound made me shudder as one massive finger slid between my nether lips.

I gasped without thought, my hips jerking forward, and Bane hissed.

“Be still, lover.”

Of course. There were claws, very close to a sensitive place.

I wanted to touch him in return, to wrap my hand around that throbbing shaft, but Bane’s muscles were quivering against me, his hand cupping my pussy, one fingerpad pressed to the swollen, aching pearl.

I realized he was holding himself back. If I tried to touch him and succeeded… he might forget his promise to be gentle. He might not be able to help it.

So I obeyed again, my breathing fast and shallow, forcing myself to be still.

He moved again, stroking me with the pad of his finger, bringing wetness from my core to my clit. My breath caught in my throat, all of my focus on holding myself still, but I couldn’t help the slight arch of my hips against him.

Not while heat was spiraling through me, settling in my center like a flood of fire. He moved his fingers in tight circles, pressing down harder with every pass. A low growl emanated from his chest, his eyes fixed on my pussy and the muscles jumping in my stomach.

“Gods, I want you.” His voice became distorted, so low it rumbled in my bones. “I want to taste you when you come.”

I couldn’t hold still, my nerves tingling, the sight of Bane’s restrained wanting overpowering even the fear of his fangs. My hips moved, rocking with the motion of his hand. His pupils had become thin slits, the sign of a hunting vampire.

That forked tongue tasted the air and he groaned, fingertips crushing against my clit harder, and that force, with the intent look on his face, shattered me.

My entire body shuddered, hips bucking, and Bane crushed his entire palm to me—keeping his claws from my flesh, grinding against my clit as the uncontrollable peak exploded through me, my breath as raspy as his. My nails dug into the blankets beneath us as I rode it out.

I finally collapsed in a languid puddle, skin flushed, and Bane slowly caressed his hand up over my stomach.

He was still hard as iron, his shaft ground against my hip, but when I reached for him…

He caught my hand, pulling me against him, my back to his chest. I should’ve known, but I was too wrung-out to fight.

“My lovely Cirri.” His voice was rough, raw, but his arms were an implacable prison. He stroked me from shoulder to hip, his fingers dancing over my skin. “You’ve trusted me. Let’s not tempt fate now. Sleep with me.”