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“And still, I hunger for you,” he groaned. His tone sent sparks of desire racing throughout herglyph. He pulled her to the edge of the counter, freed his shaft, and aligned himself with her slick opening.

With tantalizing slowness, he eased deeper into her wet heat. She quaked, eager to take more of him, biting her lip as her walls stretched with a delicious burn.

Once he was buried inside of her, a surge of emotion blasted through her senses, drawing them together as their bodies merged. She flexed her legs, urging him to move.

Slow, torturous, he thrust. “Never get enough of you,” he said before claiming her mouth.

The kiss was tender, despite the wild need she detected flowing through his body. She reveled in the unique taste of the two of them combined on his tongue.

Heat licked through her veins, and she tightened her legs, meeting his thrusts. Together they pulsed and strained. Jericho’s pleasure blended with her own, consuming every part of her until nothing else existed. The climax built, swept her up, held her on the threshold of bliss.

She sensed Jericho lingering there, holding back, waiting for her.

Shimmering sparks ripped through her core, and she cried out, shattered by her release. Jericho’s was quick to follow. The exquisite burn of his desire exploded over her senses, taking her beyond pleasure and into a realm where only they existed.

Their movements slowed, and she clung to him with trembling arms. The fiery blaze of their emotions eased to embers of contentment.

Wanting to see his expression, she leaned back and planted her hand into something squishy.

Pancake.

The overturned plate teetered on the edge of the counter. Pancakes littered the island behind her.

Laughter bubbled in her chest.

She turned to meet Jericho’s amused smile.

“Hmm, Alex buffet.” He kissed her slowly, lingering, then licked his lips. “I could get used to this.”

Alex grinned, loving this new side of him. Warmth settled deep in her bones. She tuned into the feeling, finding it strange and unfamiliar, and yet the emotion was…

Mine.

It had been a long time since she’d felt this happy. She ran a bare foot up the back of Jericho’s thigh, offering him a sultry smirk. “We have hours to kill before Marcus Steele’s party. What do you say we start on lunch?”

Twenty

Jericho checkedthe rearview mirror of Victor’s Bentley Mulsanne. The luxurious sedan was on loan since his vintage muscle car wasn’t appropriate for Marcus Steele’s casino opening.

Alex sat in the passenger’s seat beside him, jiggling her foot with enough nervous energy to power a small city. That same energy had him checking and rechecking the weapons he’d concealed beneath his suit. It played havoc with his senses, having Alex with him on assignment. She shouldn’t be here. Especially not after what happened at Pulse.

His request to attend the party alone had been denied.

For decades he’d followed his clan leader without question, certain his orders were issued for the good of the vampire community. Lately, Victor’s decisions had taken on a personal nature. Case in point, this vendetta he had with the magister.

After tonight, no longer would Jericho entertain Victor’s commands regarding his Chosen. Though he hadn’t told her yet, this would be Alex’s last mission. If Victor objected, he’d be forced to find himself another general.

Jericho pried her clenched hand from her lap, and she wrapped slim fingers around his, hanging on tight. Passing streetlights illuminated her worried profile.

“You’re going to do fine.” He offered the reassurance while masking his true emotions. “Your role as my Chosen is a simple one. All you need to do is remain at my side and monitor Marcus.”

“Oh, I understand the role the vampire aristocrats expect me to play,” she said in a biting tone. “Victor made that very clear before we left. As your Chosen, I’m expected to smile at you adoringly, bat my lashes, and keep my mouth shut.”

Jericho’s shoulders stiffened, straining the seams of his jacket. “We’ve discussed this. Whether I agree or not, Chosen are required to behave with a certain level of—”

“Subservience.” She jerked her hand away. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Jericho bristled. She made it sound as if he’d had a choice. If Alex were his Bride, she’d have the respect and the rights she deserved. Her position as his Chosen afforded her none of these things.