His eyes widened a bit in surprise, his heart leaping into his throat as she lunged against him, but the familiar satin caress of a woman’s lips quickly overtook his surprise. He closed his eyes, tilting his head into the kiss, leaning into it, the rings in his hair and straps on his armor jingling. He sucked in her warm breath, tasting her, drawing her tongue into his mouth, and if his tongue was a little rough, it mattered little once the tip began to dance beneath hers, coaxing it inward, playing lightly, expertly over it, demonstrating what it could do to a nipple or something even more tender. And if she felt a fang, so what? And if it pricked a little blood from her tongue, his tongue found the tiny sting and drew over it, soothing the wound and giving him his first taste of her rich, iron and copper life, certain drops of which could allow him to steal her shape. His hand squeezed her hips reflexively while his other slipped off her womb up to her breast, grasping it through her dress, pawing at the nipple hidden just beneath the fabric.