The kiss started hesitant.
Selene's lips were cool against mine – vampire physiology making her skin several degrees below human temperature. But there was warmth underneath, heat that came from something deeper than body temperature.
She didn't pull away immediately. Didn't push me back or snap my neck.
Instead, she kissed me back.
Tentatively at first. Like someone remembering a language they hadn't spoken in centuries. Her hand remained on my chest, feeling my heartbeat, and I felt her power probe at mine – testing, questioning, trying to understand what I was.
I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding up to cup her face. Her skin was impossibly smooth, ageless, perfect in the way only centuries of vampiric preservation could achieve.
The hesitation melted away.
Selene's other hand came up to grip my shirt, and suddenly the kiss turned fierce. Passionate. Five hundred years of loneliness and isolation pouring into that connection.
