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He raised his drink and toasted the king. Dante held out his as well.

“Here’s to carousing with old dogs, canoodling with strippers, and cheating fate.”

“Salute.” Dante drained his glass, then bellowed, “Another round for my guests.”

* * *

Vivian’sback collided with the wall, Liam’s powerful frame caging her. She moaned into his mouth, their tongues tangling. Her head spun, and she drank him in, losing herself in his kiss.Mmm.He tasted of cinnamon and cloves. She’d lost track of the number of times Dante barked, “Drinks for my guests.”

Dante was officially her favorite demon person. She was pretty sure she’d told him as much. More than once. Still, it wasn’t the alcohol that had her in such a state. No, no. It was Dante’s herbs that had waves of pure, unadulterated lust pumping through her system. And, oh, how she liked it.

Liam circled his arm around her waist, drawing her flush against his body. His thick erection pressed against her stomach, sending a jolt of heat straight to her sex. She ached to have him inside her. Desire burned in her veins, the likes of which she’d never experienced. Was it possible to spontaneously combust?

“Fuck, woman, the things I’m going to do to you.” Liam’s low growl tingled down her spine. The hazy gleam in his eyes said he was equally affected.

“Yes, my darling,” she murmured against his lips. She wanted him to do those things. All those dirty things. She skimmed her hands down his back. All night she’d admired his broad chest, petting his muscles to her heart’s content. It was a crime to cover all that golden flesh.

That’s it!She’d just decided. Tomorrow, she was burning all his shirts.

His beautiful, wandering hand became the center of her world. Her entire being focused on his coarse palm as it coasted down her thigh, tugged the back of her knee, and wrapped her leg around his waist. Then that same palm traveled back up her thigh and beneath the hem of her short black dress.

“Big fan of your stockings, Viv, but I have to admit, having you bare is even better.”

After Vivian’s performance, one of Dante’s servants returned her clothing to her. She’d only bothered with the dress and panties, determining Pyrrhos far too warm for lingerie and cloaks.

At some point during the night, her thong had made its way into Liam’s pocket. The details were a bit fuzzy. Still, it was titillating being so bare. More so since it seemed to drive Liam into a frenzy while she’d sat in his lap.

When his fingers stopped, so close to where she ached to have them, her breath locked in her chest. “Don’t stop, Liam. Touch me,” she demanded, the usually authoritative snap of her voice gone breathy, almost begging.

His blunted fingers skimmed through the wetness between her legs, and she gasped. “So ready for me,” he growled against her neck.

She was ready for him, all right. More than ready. In fact, she’d never been more ready in her life. She clutched Liam’s shoulders, needy sounds rising in her throat. Surely that whimpering noise she heard wasn’t hers. Vivian Laurent didn’t whimper.

Just as the thought whispered through her mind, Liam got creative with those beautiful fingers, proving her wrong. Vivian Laurent most certainly did whimper, pant, and moan. Who knew? Pressure built at the base of her spine, her orgasm building hard and fast, promising it was going to be earth-shattering.

Footsteps sounded from down the hall. Liam whipped the hem of her skirt over her bottom and bared his fangs, snarling, “Show’s over. Scram.”

Those footsteps ceased. Then raced away. Savage instincts urged her to give chase, to punish the interloper for interrupting what would have been a cataclysmic orgasm.

“Room.” She pressed her lips to Liam’s beautifully muscled chest, trailing kisses along his heated flesh. “Dante said his servants prepared a room.”

“Right.” Liam grasped her ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

At the end of the hall, he jammed his shoulder into the door and kicked it closed behind him.

Through a lust-filled haze, she registered warm candles and a canopy bed swathed in breezy silks fit for a sultan. Even here, Dante’s herbs lingered. Did they infuse the candles with the stuff?Genius! Perhaps he’d give her a case.

Liam set her on the bed. Before he could follow her down, she scrambled up on her knees and unfastened the buckles holding the dagger to his thick thigh. That done, she removed his belt then tossed the cursed thing to the ground. The soul sword hit with a clang, popped free of the sheath, and skipped across the floor. For one blissful night, she didn’t want to think about the blasted thing. All she wanted was to feel.

“Hurry,” she urged, and Liam was quick to help her with his boots and pants. He had her out of her dress just as fast. If he didn’t make love to her soon, she’d go up in flames.

She grasped his shoulders and fell back, urging him to follow. Liam hit the bed and rolled, placing her on top of him. Her sweet protector. Even now, he respected her need to take the reins. She kissed a trail across his sternum to the cut she’d left over his heart. The lingering scent of his blood punched through her gut. Her gums burned, fangs emerging.

“Fuck, Viv. Look at you.” He cupped her jaw and ran his thumb over her lips. “I can feel your hunger.”

Though it had only been a few days since she’d fed, tonight, for some reason, she was ravenous. There was only one thing that would satisfy her craving.

As though he’d read her mind, Liam pierced his thumb with a fang and smeared it against her mouth. She licked her bottom lip, savoring his spicy flavor.