Page 9 of Clash of Sin and Secret

Scotland McCullough is my fated mate.

A low growl of approval rumbles at the back of my throat and her eyes slip shut as she swallows. “That’s primal, but it’s hot.”

“Primal and carnal. You know what you do to me.”

My fingers feel fat and clumsy as I work free the delicate buttons of her silk blouse. The deep oxblood is a tribute to the Vasari clan and makes her pale, Scottish complexion glow like moonlight. Each tiny fastening tests my patience, but I take my time, savoring each new inch of creamy skin revealed.

“Do you want help?” Her fingers brush my cheek.

“Not even a little. You getting impatient?”

“Not even a little. Good things come to those who wait, right?”

I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, my gaze locked on the unveiling of Scottie’s body. When the last button gives way, I ease the silk from her shoulders. My bear rumbles in approval at the sight of her full figure and lush curves. My female is perfect.

The first touch of skin on skin sends a jolt through us both. The sacred squire magic living in her cells reaches out, recognizing the echo of itself in me. The same power that once flowed through my father, and then through Bran, now flows through his daughter.

It creates something electric between us.

Her breath catches as golden light dances where our skin meets. “How can anything feel this good?”

“The magic knows magic.” I trace the curve of her collarbone, watching the light follow my touch. Trailing my finger downward, in a lazy, swirling caress, I make my way to circle one breast, and then the other.

Her back arches as her nipples harden into tight, rosy peaks.

I shift down the bed to take one in my mouth as I claim the other with a gentle pinch. Swirling my tongue around the little nub draws a feminine sigh rumbling up her throat.

My cock pulses against the super-soft Egyptian cotton of her duvet, begging to be added into the play.

Not yet.

Scottie asked to be cherished, and she will be.

All. Night. Long.

Once I’ve given her breasts the love and appreciation they deserve, I move lower, trailing my tongue down the filigree of Sacred Squire history that expands across her ribs and down to her hips.

Magic connects the two of us, but this ink is a reminder that it connects her to Zane, too. The Vampire King might think he has exclusive rights to her heart because of their past, but he’s wrong. What Scottie and I share is different, but equally magical and profound.

And equally unbreakable.

He’ll have to learn to share, because I’m not going anywhere. The bear within me growls in satisfaction as I pull her closer.

“Time to get these pants off you, beautiful. Let me see how wet you are.”

Huntley

The night air wraps around me, thick with tension and the aftermath of chaos. I lean against the brick wall outside the Pravda Vodka Bar, catching my breath after a literal fight from hell. What the fuck were those demons thinking, attacking in plain sight?

There isn’t much cooperation among the sects of the Otherworld, but there’s one tenet everyone understands. We keep our existence private. We fight in the shadows. And we never break the veil of secrecy in public places where any human with a cellphone can record it.

And did this guy think touching down as a dragon at ten o’clock at night on Adelaide was a good idea?

Exposure much?

My mind is still stalling out over that one—a freaking dragon.

Thankfully, he’s back to looking like an ex-military man and somehow, no one is staring. After he checks on the singer and the Ian Somerhalder look-alike rubbing the back of his head, hestrides over to me and extends a hand. “Thanks for stepping in. I’m Wilder. I appreciate you keeping them safe more than you’ll ever know.”

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