Jonas watched her in his antique wrought iron bed, her chest rising and falling as she slept. She was wearing a beige sheath dress that came barely to her mid-thigh. No ornamentation. She wasn’t even wearing earrings. That part seemed right. Somehow jewelry wouldn’t actually have enhanced her at all. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup either.
Her chocolate brown hair was, thanks to him, spilled haphazardly over her neck and pillow both. One arm bent as he watched her, and she rolled onto her side. The corresponding leg followed her bent arm, knee tucking toward her chest, exposing even more of her soft white thighs in the process.
She looked so small, so innocent—and so very fragile there, laid out in the middle of his huge bed, like an offering to the beast.
He didn’t even have to guess at what she would be like with him, how his body would respond to hers; how hers would awaken to his. Somehow, he already knew. He caught up a lock of her hair and let it slide smoothly through his fingers. For the first time since he’d been changed, he understood why a vampire might keep a mortal as a lover…
Darcy Branwyn 
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