Page 67 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

I lowered my head in offering but stopped just short of making contact, giving her control.

At my gift, she froze again, uncertainty once more taking hold, but then her eyes hardened, filled with fire, and her grip on my neck tightened as she readied herself to leap.

Yes. A deep growl resounded in my head that might have rumbled through my chest as I pictured wrapping her legs around my waist and pressing her against this wall, rolling my hips against her to eke out those noises I longed to hear again.

“Cammon…” she started, then trailed off, and in her hesitation, I understood her uncertainty wasn’t all for her own sake. She wanted to know if I was sure. If this was a lingering effect of the bond. Or a favour.

My control teetered on the edge, and she needed to know it. She’d been honest with me about the bond, and I needed to be honest with her.

“You tempt me more than anything else ever has,” I rasped. “You have no idea how much effort it takes to stay in control around you. If I gave in to how incredible your desire tastes, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from draining you. But by the hells, I’d ensure you knew every moment of ecstasy before I did.”

My confession should have sent her running, should have triggered that brilliant, rational mind of hers. But if anything, her desire grew more potent. Sweeter, thicker—pure ambrosia. I couldn’t think straight for the smell of her. With everything in me, I knew I should stop. I was so close to having my wish of ten years granted, to watching my brothers and sister shatter beneath the weight of their hubris. I couldn’t afford to let this slip of a researcher distract me. I couldn’t let my desire put her before my revenge or create connections with a country I would likely never see again. But I couldn’t help myself. She held me in her thrall, and I was certain that if I didn’t taste her, I would die of starvation.

I brushed my lips across hers, the merest touch. A soft sound—of protest? Of need?—slipped from her throat, and then her mouth was on mine, her tongue darting out, her teeth catching on my lower lip as she drew me closer. I slid my arms around her waist and pulled her tighter against me, removing every gap as I claimed her mouth. I was hungry, ravenous, and she was the only meal that could sate me. I wouldn’t drain her. With whatever rational thought remained to me, I would keep her safe, but hells, I would wind my way through those emotions to deliver on my other promise. She would be nothing more than a puddle of pleasure by the time I finished with her.

The sound of someone clearing their throat wrenched us away from each other, and I whirled around, my wings snapping out as I bared my teeth. Glory clung to me, her chest rising and falling against mine, her skin warm, flushed.

Cliff stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, looking unconcerned about what he’d stepped in the middle of. “Dinner’s ready.”

It took a moment for his voice to filter through the haze of my arousal. The memory of the vampires in the room beyond came back to me. Thorn. The mutts. The amulet. All these interruptions getting in my way.

I didn’t have time to snarl at him before Glory slipped from my grasp, her eyes downcast, and followed him out of the room. They disappeared, and I waited to follow, catching my breath and allowing my body to calm down.

That fucking vampire.

If he kept this shit up, then before I left here, he’d find his head crushed through the stone wall of this room.

Grumbling, uncomfortable, and hating the void Glory’s absence had left behind—her lowered gaze making me worry she regretted what we’d almost done—I followed them into the cavern to find a wild sight awaiting me.

Glory

XXIX

The cavern was glorious.

I’d caught a glimpse of what they’d done with the space when Kalla had led me to and from the hot spring, but she’d kept us moving at such a pace that I hadn’t had a chance to take it in.

Colourful blankets and flickering, fae-magic lanterns draped across the tall ceiling, dousing the room in warm light that gave the impression of sunshine. Something none of these people would ever be able to see with their own eyes. The various stalls set up around the circular edge of the room, many now open for business, added to the effect. In the middle of the space, a roaring bonfire licked upwards, the smoke drifting towards what appeared to be vents in the stone overhead.

Had everything been set up like this when we’d come in, or had they arranged it all while I’d lounged in the water?

Kalla found me and looped her arm through mine. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

Her blue eyes gleamed. “Every night is an occasion, darling. If you haven’t figured that out yet, how have you lived your life? Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

She pulled me away from Cammon into the thick of the crowds, and as I’d done before, I glanced at him over my shoulder. He stood next to the doorway to his—our—room, his eyes still an inky black, his shoulders tense, his wings out but ruffled. He was the image of frustration, and never had I empathized so much.

My body was still tingling with need. I could have kicked Cliff in the shins for interrupting us right when I’d made up my mind to enjoy a single moment of my life.

My conversation with Kalla in the hot spring had inspired me, and walking in to find Cammon dressed like that… staring at me like that… I hadn’t been able to resist him. I hadn’t cared what it would mean to give in, to succumb to his demonic influence. Not the effect of the bond, but my body’s own urgings.

The memory of his blood, of the feel of his body on top of mine—mine on top of his—turned the pulsing between my thighs into an almost overwhelming squeeze. After we’d rolled down that escarpment, my heart had raced so fast I’d felt its rhythm in every limb, and when I’d straddled his hips, the only thing I’d wanted to do was ride Cammon into oblivion.

I thought of his warning moments before I’d kissed him. His threat that if he lost control, he would drain me. I knew what would happen if he did. I would lose control of myself, forget all my worries and stresses, and become a creature of passion, devoted to Cammon’s pleasure and nothing else.

A week ago, the idea would have horrified me, but right now, bogged down as we were by so many dangers and other unknowns, there was a freedom in the concept that appealed to me. Being here, among these vampires who obviously knew how to draw the heart out of every moment, I believed I could happily give in. I could wrap myself in decadence and desire and forget everything else. No more pretending, no more hiding.