Page 71 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

XXXI

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could barely remember my name. With every rock of Cammon’s hips, every slide of his length inside me, I lost another piece of myself.

As soon as I noticed it happening, I pulled back, afraid to disappear. Yet the pleasure continued.

The way his body moved against mine, so effortless, so natural, I couldn’t believe this was the first time we’d indulged in the wanton passion that had built between us for so many days. With every flick of his fingers across my nipples, every thrust of his pelvis, every nip of his teeth, he demonstrated a mastery of my body.

As my second climax eased, I tightened my legs around him, holding him in place. He breathed against me, his forehead tucked into my neck, his broad, muscular shoulders heaving, trembling. I stroked my fingers up and down his spine, enjoying every shudder. When I brushed against his wings, he sucked in a sharp breath, and I chuckled as he hid them from me with a flex of his back.

His horns, however, remained, and with one hand still between his shoulders, I trailed my fingertips over the hard ridges at the base. Not to entice him, not yet, but because I couldn’t get enough of the texture. Smooth and rough at the same time. Sharp, lethal, yet clearly sensitive under a gentle touch.

Cammon ran his tongue over the pulse in my throat, his warm mouth capturing my skin, sampling me.

I moaned at the sensation, but in the middle of my bliss, the thought of the amulet popped into my head and my muscles tensed. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but even as my pleasure swelled, my mind looped around to tomorrow and what the day might bring.

I forced my attention back to the perfect here and now, tripping my lips over Cammon’s collar bones, his smooth, golden skin, desperate to lose myself again. The muscles along his spine writhed and popped as he tightened his grip on me, as if he knew I’d drifted and wanted to guide me back. The thrusts of his hips became more forceful, more punishing. He buried himself deeper, winding me up tighter, driving all thought of tomorrow away. Up, up, up, until I swore I was about to burst through my skull in a spray of colour. My fangs pressed into my lower lip, begging to sink into him and indulge in that pleasure while the rest of me crested the wave of physical ecstasy, but I behaved. If Kalla was correct, then none of what was happening right now was because of our temporary bond. He wanted this. I wouldn’t be so selfish as to change that and tie us together in a moment of weakness.

The effort of restraining myself, the near pain of withholding, almost heightened the other sensations coursing through me. I wrapped my arms around Cammon’s head on a gasp, and he nuzzled my neck as his thrusts became more frantic, his breaths growing more shallow, more ragged. I followed him, chasing that promised peak, and when it arrived, I threw myself into it with wild abandon.

For tonight, I wasn’t Glory Dolan, hidden mage advisor. I was the embodiment of bliss.

I woke up more relaxed than I’d ever been in my life and sore in places I’d forgotten it was possible to be sore.

Cammon lay sleeping beside me, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths, and I allowed myself a single moment to lie beside him and enjoy the warmth of his strong, solid body.

It was the first time I’d woken up next to a sexual partner. Not that I’d had many, but every other experience had been quick, and when it was over we’d gone our separate ways. Enough to scratch an itch, sometimes enough to satisfy. This… this was nice. Not something I’d let myself get used to, but we were close enough to my night of sinful irresponsibility that I was willing to extend it a little longer.

“Already overthinking everything, are you, Buttons?”

His low, gravelly voice shocked me, and I experienced a wave of sadness when my body tensed, muscles hugging my spine and reverting me into my familiar, reserved self.

With a sigh of resignation, I pulled away, but Cammon wrapped his fingers around my wrist and held me in place. He opened his eyes, and his crimson gaze skimmed me from brow to mouth, dipped below to where my body remained exposed, and inky blackness bled from his pupils.

“Why?” he asked.

I ran through all the possible meanings of his question—why was I overthinking, why was I leaving, why was I always so me?—and realized the answer to all of them was the same. “Because we have things to do. Goals to meet. Amulets to find. Mutts to outrun.”

It surprised me how much I wished I were lying. If I were, it might have been easy for Cammon to convince me to stay where I was. It had been one night—with repeated pleasure—and my skin already craved his touch. My wrist was the only part of me currently content, while the rest of me longed to settle back down and press into him, soak up more of his heat, earn those gruff pants and growls that had resonated in my ears from the time he’d pulled me into our room.

The throb between my legs intensified, and I tugged on my captured hand, knowing what would happen if I didn’t put a stop to this now. I was out here to earn my quiet closet; he sought revenge and to go back home. Reaching our goal would give us both what we wanted, but what we wanted were very different things, and it would serve me well to keep that in mind.

Cammon relented, though not without a low huff that promised this wasn’t the end of the conversation. A shiver of desire ran through me, and the black across his eyes spread when he tasted it.

I reminded myself that he was a demon. Lust was his primary food source, and he’d made his opinions about any deeper emotions known. Whatever existed between us could only be sex—especially now that the bond had faded. We’d had our fun, scratched that itch, and I could go back to focusing on the real goal: finding freedom in my library office. Which was fine. There was no room for him in my quiet, cramped life anyway.

Needing to get my head on straight before we spoke with Thorn, I kept my back to Cammon as I grabbed my clothes and attempted to put myself to rights. The vest had survived his rough handling, but the laces of the borrowed breeches had broken, leaving little length for me to tie them. By the time I’d finished, Cammon was already dressed, his bare chest taunting me with my out-of-character choices.

When we left the room, we found Thorn in her purple chair as though she’d been waiting for us to emerge. Kalla stood on her left, her arms crossed and a smug smile stretched across her face. I refrained from rolling my eyes, not wanting to give her the satisfaction, but she didn’t seem to need any acknowledgement from me to relish her superiority.

“So,” Thorn said. She sat with a leg draped over one wooden armrest, her arm stretched out along the other. Her ashen hair was pulled back with tiny metal rings along the top of her head and lay loose around her shoulders. She was a queen in her home, and not one to be messed with. Not that I had any intention of messing.

“Have you decided?” I kept my eyes downcast and my tone respectful.

“Eyes up, child,” she chided. “You’re not subservient to me. You’re not subservient to anyone. You are vampire. It’s a crime of society that you can’t wear your nature with pride.”

Her words rippled through me like spiced rum, waking up bits of me I’d buried for so long I’d forgotten they were there. Between Thorn and Cammon, I was being pulled from the dark recesses of my mind where I’d resided in familiarity if not comfort. I risked being a new woman by the time I returned home—a terrifying idea. Where would this new me fit?

I raised my gaze and met hers, and the glimmer in them—amusement, pride, satisfaction—lifted my confidence. “You’ve decided to help us.”