will you tell me who you are?" he asked. Even in human form, his voice was beyond mesmerizing.

"Ian Godwin, at your service."

He smiled at that. I should have been worried.

"And you?" I barely managed to get the words out before I was flat against a wall, his mouth over mine, tongue probing deep. He never stopped moving, never stopped dancing, grinding his body against mine as we kissed. When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathless.

"Gabriel," he said, mouth moving over my chin, my throat, teeth nipping. "Gabriel Devereaux." Then he stopped just as his lips brushed over my jugular vein. "Delicious," he growled softly.

Twisting my fingers in his hair, I pressed his mouth to my neck, all but begging to feel his teeth sink into my flesh. He obliged without a word, tongue flicking out to taste before his fangs pierced my skin. The movements of his body mirrored the rhythm of his feeding: hard and almost desperate. His hands slid under my shirt, hot against my chest, my sides. I felt every sucking pull from my neck to my cock, the steady rhythm driving me mad with need. When he pulled away this time, he was kind enough to lick the wounds, urging them to heal.

"Come."

It was a single word that held many meanings for me at that moment. I followed him out of the club and we walked quietly for half a block before stopping at the opening to another alley. Not quite my idea of a long night of fucking, but then he flashed me a toothy grin and stepped through a door I hadn't even realized was there. Reaching out of the darkness inside, he took my hand and pulled me into the warehouse.

It wasn't quite as dismal on the inside as the outside suggested. In fact, it wasn't far from what my own home looked like. We walked deeper into the interior of the warehouse via a narrow hallway. When the hallway opened up, we were in what must have been a lobby. Gabriel led the way through a door on the right and into an office. A single mattress, rather well-kept, sat on the floor near the middle of the room. Boxes were stacked, some waist-high, along the walls. After closing the door behind us, Gabriel leaned against it, pulling me back against him.

"You have fed?" he asked, breath blowing over my right ear as he began to undress me. His fingers deftly worked open my pants, letting them fall to the floor. Long fingers curled around my cock, he stroked me slowly, every slow slide of his hand drawing another shudder up my spine.

"I do not need to feed now. Once a month is enough for me." I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingernails scratched my shaft. Looking down, whatever words I might have thought to say, caught in my throat as I watched claws stroke over me, leaving bright trails of blood in their wake. Fire blazed through me when his fist closed around me again, my blood the perfect lubricant.

"Fuck me," I heard myself say.

A dark chuckle was Gabriel's only answer as he pushed me toward the bed, releasing my cock. I was painfully hard, more so when I looked down to run my finger through the blood. I brought my hand to my lips to lick it clean, shivering