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“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

His breath caught when her eyes dropped to his mouth. She was thinking of his fangs, wondering if she really could trust him—

“Your ego—”

“We’re not talking about my ego,” he interrupted. “I’ll have the truth.”

Though sometimes he did it out of habit, this time, Torr very intentionally licked his top and then bottom lip.

“You, sir, are evil.”

“And you, a perfect princess. Prim and proper.”

“Was I prim and proper at that club of yours?”

The air crackled between them. He was dangerous to her now—but no more so than she was to him.

One did not trifle with a woman like Charlotte Harris. Though he teased her, Torr knew better. There was an unexpected depth to her he’d only glimpsed briefly.

And he wanted to see more of it.

He closed the gap between them, forcing her to turn her back to the railing. Gripping it on both sides of her, Torr watched for a sign.

That she didn’t want this.

That she was scared.

That it would be a mistake to venture down this path.

But Charlotte only leaned into him, pressing her breasts to his chest and covering his hands with hers on the railing.

His mouth crashed onto hers, opening for more even as she gave it. This woman knew how to kiss. Her tongue didn’t touch his with the hesitancy of a question. Instead, it slashed at him with the knowledge that he could not be broken. Her fingers curled around his hands, her grip tightening, as the energy from Stage West, from the dinner, from her newfound knowledge poured through them.

Her fucking lips. Could they taste any sweeter?

A dam had been broken, flooding him with want for this woman whose body fit so perfectly against his own, whose tongue seemed to have, already, an intimate knowledge of his mouth.

He wanted more.

Needed more.

Pulling away just long enough to get her permission, which he did with one look, Torr yanked his right hand out from under hers and found the small of her back. Inching his fingers upward, he reveled in the feel of Charlotte’s bare flesh beneath his touch, her smooth back only the first place he intended to explore.

Lips swollen from their kiss, she watched his mouth as his hand explored.

“Can I see them again?”

She didn’t need to tell him what she meant—he knew instinctively, and he quickly acquiesced. Torr displayed the worst part of him, baring himself for her completely. Showing her where man and monster met within him.

“May I . . . ?”

He opened his mouth wider, but when she put a hesitant finger to his fang, he refused to allow the opportunity to be wasted and captured her finger between his lips.

He caressed. And sucked. And waited for the precise moment . . .

At Charlotte’s moan, he tore her finger from his mouth and kissed her, hard. When her tongue found the tip of his fang, he didn’t mistake the not-so-subtle press of her hips toward him. Grabbing her, he melded their bodies even closer together.

“Ahem.”

Charlotte shoved him away, clearly stricken.

He, on the other hand, discovered he didn’t mind at all. Sure, Toni and Laria looked surprised, and Lawrence was downright murderous, but he found himself grinning.