Page 95 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

Flynn’s arms encircled me, pulling me closer into his lap, clinging tightly.If I die here, at least it’ll be while being held like something precious. Something worthy.

One of his hands loosened. The zipper of his hoodie tingled as he tugged it down. His head tipped back against the van’s metal wall, exposing the pale column of his throat.

The realisation hit me like the toll of cathedral bells. He was offering himself to me with devastating simplicity, with complete trust.

Yes! Yes! Take what he offers.

“No!” The word tore from my throat. “I’ll drain you dry.” His blood was the sweetest drug, and I’d tasted enough to know one hit would never be enough. I was an addict staring at his poison of choice, knowing it would destroy us both.

“No you won’t.” Flynn’s fingers threaded through my hair, gentle yet firm. “And if you don’t behave, I’ll pin you down and force feed you.”

I shook my head, fighting against the overwhelming urge to sink my fangs into his flesh. “I can’t. You know that.” Why was he doing this to me?

“Shhh.” His hand stroked through my curls, each soft touch weakening my resolve like water wearing away stone. “It’s okay, Sebastián. Let me help you.”

Feed. Feed. Feed.

My fangs fully extended, drawn to his pulse point like a compass finding true north. Retracting them was futile. The steady thrum of his heartbeat called to me, begging me to claim him.

Delicious, delicious Flynn. Lovely Flynn.

My Flynn.

“No,” I tried again, the word a whisper.

“Yes,” he said simply.

My world narrowed to the blood coursing through his veins, to the sweet scent of his skin, to the gentle strength in his touch as Flynn’s hand cupped the back of my head, guiding me to the crook of his neck.

Finally mine.

20

Flynn

In all my dreams of Sebastián’s mouth on my neck, none had prepared me for the reality of his fangs.

The initial shock of those razor-sharp teeth piercing my neck sent lightning through every nerve—sharp, white-hot agony that made me gasp and clutch at his shoulders. My fingers dug into the fabric of his coat as my body went rigid.

“Breathe, Flynn,” he rasped against my skin, having pulled back. “You must breathe.”

The second pierce went even deeper. Hot tears burst into my eyes. My body trembled, and I clung to Seb, squeezing him tightly instead of hissing out my pain.Don’t show him how much it hurts.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air.My blood.Seb was drinkingmy blood.My heart hammered wildly, rabbit-fast, pumping harder, faster. How much was he taking? And would he actually be able to stop? Oh god, why hadn’t I expected it to hurt quite this much?

But then his tongue—warm, gentle, almost languid—lapped at the wounds in between his little sucks. The pain began to ebb away, replaced by waves of dizzying sensation, and each draw of blood sent sparks dancing behind my closed eyelids. My chest felt tight—another ice attack?No. Instead, a radiating heat bloomed within me that made me arch closer to him with a quiet gasp. His arm tightened around my waist in response.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as the glorious warmth spread through my limbs, and my grip on his shoulders loosened. One hand continued to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through those dark curls. The steady rhythm of his drinking became hypnotic. The worldnarrowed to just this—his mouth latched onto my neck, the light scrape of his stubble against my skin, the gentle press of his body against mine, keeping me anchored.

Time lost all meaning. There was only the soft wet sounds of his feeding, my uneven breaths, the thundering of my pulse. My head fell back further, offering even more of my throat. His appreciative growl vibrated through me as he nuzzled deeper against my skin.

Tongue swirling patterns between draws, Seb soothed any lingering burn. Pleasure coursed through my veins like liquid gold, making me tremble for entirely different reasons now. My fingers flexed in his hair as another moan slipped past my lips.

“Seb,” I breathed, barely recognizing my voice.

He made a sound deep in his throat that rippled through me like a wave breaking against rocks. His free hand slid up my body to find the back of my head, his thumb rubbing concentric circles into my scalp.

Then I was drowning. Drowning in sensation.

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