“I want to taste you,” she said in a guttural voice.
He lifted his jaw and turned his head, exposing his jugular. “Take what you need, take all of me.”
She was smart. She got his arousal free before she headed down for his throat. And holy fuck, the release of his erection, coupled with the brush of her hands on him, was enough to test his self-control—and he was ready for so much more. Except that was as far as she went. No sitting down on him, no plunging slide, not even a ride on his length as it lay on his stomach.
“Fuuuck…do you want me to beg?”
“Now would I make you do that…?” She nipped at his lips. “Really?”
His hands slapped onto her pelvis, and as he grabbed her solid hips hard, he got a throaty laugh in return. After that, she tortured him a little by rocking back and forth on the tip of his cock, everything he wanted so tantalizingly close, the penetration something he broke out in a sweat for, and yet did nothing about.
He could thrust up, if he wanted. But hisshellanwas in control.
And begging was something he was more than willing to do.
There was a shift and some jerking, and then he heard what she was wearing on top hit the floor. When she came back down to him, her bare breasts brushed against his pecs, and thank fuck his muscle shirt was tight and thin enough to count as a second skin. He felt everything clearly—and also the cool air on his cock as she lifted up on her knees. This time, her hand went to himand stood him high, and then she really teased him, settling onto his head, her core running so wet that it was a kiss.
But up she went. Then down a little farther. Then back up—
The next time her lips caressed over his jugular, her fangs were all the way extended, and he smiled into the darkness he lived in. She wasn’t going to be able to hold off for much longer, and the fact that she needed him that badly? He hoped she drained him down to fumes.
It was as she sat all the way down on him that she let out a growl and bit him. The strike was deep, and as she penetrated his vein, he sank all the way into her sex—and started to come. There was no reason to fight the release. He was going to keep this going for a while, and so was she.
Immediately, she started riding on his arousal, but she had to keep things slow.
So she could stay at his throat.
Everything about the sucking draw was sexual, the pull, the swallow, the exhale through her nose that tickled his ear. Sweeping his hands up, he caressed her spine and cupped the nape of her neck, urging her to take from him. The fact that he was filling her belly, giving her strength, making her whole, was such a fucking turn-on.
And he was marking her, his scent going all over her.
Inside of his female, too.
Just as it should be.
Chapter Ten
Sometime later, male voices percolated through Beth’s post-feeding float, and she opened her eyes. Wrath was talking to someone down in the front of the residence, and she was so logy and satisfied, she lacked the energy to immediately translate the syllables into meaning. Instead, she stretched good and hard, limbs going every which way, head cranking back, toes curling tight as a ballerina’s. She’d had a nice long shower maybe an hour ago, and the tightness in her inner thighs made her smile—
“—condition?” Wrath demanded.
“Both are stable,” Rhage reported. “They’ve been fed and they’re back home.”
“I’m going to go see them now.”
With an uncoordinated surge, Beth got to her feet and pulled a robe on over the t-shirt and boxers she’d put herself in after the shower. As she hustled down the hall, she felt all her stress cinch back around her, an iron drape that was cold and bold and heavy—and so very familiar.
“What happened?” she said as she skidded into the living area.
Wrath’s head turned toward her. He was magnificently naked, in the way an animal would be, no self-consciousness, no apology—there was no awkwardness on Rhage’s side, either.
And the enormous bite mark and bruise on the side of his throat was another thing her mate wasn’t covering up.
“I’m just going to go check on Tohr and V,” he said.
She waited. When neither male volunteered an explanation, she pressed. “Why?”
Rhage’s Bahamas-blue eyes dropped to the floor as he stayed quiet. Which was more than fine. It was Wrath she wanted to hear from. Needed to hear from.
