Free Deep Kiss of Winter by Kresley Cole Page A

that they were always about when he needed one. His father could have enjoyed the same—as a wealthy aristocrat, he could easily have found a woman to replace his departed wife.
    â€œGet another one,” Murdoch had finally demanded, unable to comprehend what kind of hold the woman had over him. His father had refused to move on, obsessed with her.
    A woman’s death had broken a strong man . . . .
    The dream began to change. Murdoch found himself with Daniela in a strange room made of ice walls. But he felt no chill from it, no discomfort.
    He placed his palms on either side of her ethereal face—without giving her pain. When his thumbs brushed her delicate cheekbones, she smiled up at him, but her countenance was different. Everything about her had changed.
    Wisping ice crystals had formed in half-moon shapes at her temples. More crystals spiked her lashes and tangled in her wild, shimmery hair. Her skin was even paler, her lips tinged with blue. Delicate cobalt-colored designs laced around her wrists and descended over her hands. In his dream, he knew they ran across her lower back as well.
    Her eyes seemed to be filled with an ancient knowing, and they glowed as if banked with a blue fire.
    She looked otherworldly. Like a completely alien being. She is otherworldly. . . .
    â€œDo you want me?” she whispered on a frosty breath, leading him to a bed in the center of the room.
    He’d never wanted anyone more. “I have to have you.”
    â€œThen take me, Murdoch.”
    He was about to give her his standard warning, that this was only for a night. He wouldn’t be interested in more. But she pressed her chill lips to his, stunning him with the cold—and with the pleasure. Perfection. Delicious.
    He lost track of what he’d been about to say.
    As they kissed, he slipped her skimpy dress from her, then pressed her back on the bed. He tugged her panties down, left her heels on.
    Sweeping his hands up her thighs, he spread her legs. Now that he could, he made a feast of her body for hours, licking her in secret places. Instead of her own fingers delving into her sex, his now thrust inside her.
    He tormented her, first keeping her from coming, then forcing her to, over and over.
    In his dream, he knew she’d never been with another man. He painstakingly prepared her body for his, determined to spare her pain as he claimed her virginity.
    When he’d been human, he’d never been interestedin virgins. Back then, much was taboo in his conservative country. Deflowering a maid one never intended to marry was virtually blasphemous.
    So why was he continuing with Daniela, positioning his hips between her pale thighs? Why was he kissing her soft breasts, rubbing his face against them, sucking on those stiff nipples? Did he want to be bound to her? One woman. For more than even a mortal lifetime. Possibly forever .
    These thoughts left him when the head of his cock found her wetness.
    She softly cried, “Murdoch . . .” Lightning fractured the night, the thunder booming all around them.
    With a groan, he slowly rolled his hips up, pressing the crown inside her untried body . . . the tightness, the connection .
    When she gasped in his ear and made little whimpers of pleasure, he ran his mouth against her neck, licking her sweet skin, knowing he’d take her blood this night.
    He rode her harder, faster, shocked when she met his frantic thrusts with a hidden strength. She dug her heels in to lift her hips, seating him even deeper inside her.
    She told him she was about to come, and he was desperate to feel it.
    Her sheath began squeezing his throbbing cock, and the power of her orgasm sent his seed climbing. The pressure would soon make him mindless. His cock ached; his fangs ached. No amount of will could prevent him from bucking his hipsto lose his semen . . . or from piercing her neck.
    With a yell, he sank his fangs into her