Page 51 of Crave

My fangs ached, but I beckoned her closer. “Of course. How do you like my new chop shop?”

She laughed, and it was a deep, sweet sound that made my dick hard. Her scent reached my nose, and I breathed deeply, trying not to remember how her pussy tasted against my tongue, and what she sounded like when she orgasmed.

“Very, uh, rustic. I like it. But can we agree to never call it a chop shop again?” She walked around, running her fingers lightly over the well-worn cupboards and the massage table that was currently doubling as an examination table. I’d get Radic to order a proper stainless steel one that could be sanitized in case of surgery, but this would do right now.

“All right, just for you. Here, take a seat.” Unable to help myself, I wrapped my hands around her waist and lifted her onto the table. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? Are you feeling okay?” I hated drawing this line in the sand again, but I needed her to step over it voluntarily and not in the heat of… well, her heat.

“I feel fine. Just wanted to see how you were settling in. Make sure you’re feeling good too.”

My hand was still on her waist, and I pulled it away slowly. “I’m undead, Omega. I always feel good.”

She cocked her head to the side. watching me as I restacked things I’d already stacked. “Did you organize your blood supply?”

My fangs ached again. I was hungry, but I’d taken some blood bags from Dark River’s stock when we left, so I should be okay for a while more. “Not yet, but I have a supply for a couple of days, and then I’ll get it figured out.” I pushed the patient files into a filing cabinet that looked like someone had kicked it at some point. I’d probably need a new one of those too.

“Tanner.”

“Mmm?” I said, still reorganizing.

“Look at me.”

I sucked in a fortifying breath and straightened. I had a stern word with both my dick and my fangs about behaving, then I turned. God, she was beautiful, though.

“I want you to drink from me.”

My mouth dropped open, my fangs hanging out in the breeze. “What?”

“I don’t want you to find an alternate blood supply. I want you to drink from me. Quinn feels the same, so you can rotate between us.”

“Susannah, you don’t…”

She held up a hand, her face fierce. “Don’t tell me I don’t know. I saw you drink from Murphy during the heat. I know you make it pleasurable, and I know you have control. Come here.”

Jesus, I was powerless to stop myself walking toward her, like she was a siren and not a Manix.

When I was within touching distance, she reached out and dragged me closer, until I was forced to look down at her, and her knees bracketed my hips.

“My Beast goes feral at the thought of your fangs in someone else. That someone else’s blood—someone not Pack—is giving you nourishment. The idea of your lips on anyone else's pulse makes me feel wild.” She reached her hand up and buried it in the hair above my ear. Gently, she pulled me down until my face was an inch away from her lips, her soft breath fanning over my face. “I want you to kiss me. Drink from me.” She pushed up until her teeth grazed over my lip. “Fuck me.”

I shuddered, helpless to resist. My mouth smashed down onto hers, and as I pushed my tongue into her mouth, I pressed my body tight to hers until she was forced backwards. Her back pressed flat on my examination table as I pulled her right to the edge. Her thighs wrapped around my hips, her sweet pussy warming my cock. My arms bracketed either side of her head, and I continued to kiss her like I wanted to fuck her. Hard. Mercilessly.

But she wasn’t submissive, not this little Omega. Instead, she purposefully scraped her tongue over my sharp fang, cutting it enough that the taste of her blood was passed between our mouths.

My already painfully hard dick got even harder, and I ground it between her thighs. She moaned and curled up against me, seeking friction that I was more than happy to supply. It didn’t help that she was in a sweet little summer dress, and the only things between us were a few pieces of fabric and my moral compass.

“Bite me, Tanner.”

Fuck the moral compass.

Turning her head to the side, I pushed one hand beneath her panties and slid my fingers through her lips. They were so fucking wet, slippery with that Omega slick that tasted like goddamn ambrosia. She moaned as I softly circled around that hot button, bringing her higher and higher. I had to be inside her when she came. I continued to put pressure on her clit, but slid two fingers downwards, pressing them inside her. She clamped down, and I moaned.

Scraping my fangs up the column of her throat, I nipped at her earlobe. “Are you going to come for me, Susannah? Wet my hand with your slick?” I purred, and like the good little Omega she was, her whole body tensed. As her climax kicked off, I buried my fangs in her throat and pushed all the pleasure-inducing toxins into her bloodstream, heightening her orgasm until she was writhing on my hand.

I wasn’t like X; I couldn’t make a girl come with just one puncture of my fangs. But I could add to the pleasure she was already feeling. I stroked her through her orgasm until her body went lax, and then I pulled my fingers from her core and my fangs from her neck, licking up any traces of blood.

She lay beneath me, sweaty and panting. “Sweet Goddess,” she murmured against my shoulder. She wrapped her arms around my chest, holding me tightly to her body. She gripped the back of my head, tugging on my hair until I was forced to move back and look down at her. “No one else but us.”

I swallowed hard, because along this route lay eventual heartache. Still, I was helpless to do anything but agree. It was too late for anything but commitment. I was already invested. “No one else.”

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