Page 23 of Grim’s Delight (The New Protectorate Syndicate #1)

The truth was that she’d never been brave or reckless enough to take that step over the line with him, and she’d been reluctantly impressed by his respect for that hesitance.

Yes, he pushed and he prodded, but never seriously, and never with any annoyance.

Stringing him along, seeing how far she could push him before he snapped had been a dangerous game too tempting to ignore.

But even now, with the head of his cock gently pushing against the slippery entrance of her cunt, he didn’t push. He waited for her to say yes.

She didn’t know what madness compelled Felix to ignore the fact that she’d been turned, but Dahlia decided she didn’t care. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he could get her pregnant, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask for commitment in the morning.

For this one night at least, she was going to fulfill the fantasies she’d never shared with him.

A rush of satisfaction made her head spin as she trapped his hips between her thighs.

He still held her head firmly, but her arms were free, so she wrapped them around the back of his head, drawing him in.

When he stooped over her, his body blocked out the light.

They made a cozy little cave together, which pleased the part of her that desperately wanted them somewhere small and dark and saturated in the scent of sex.

“Please, Felix,” she whispered, rocking her hips. “I want it.”

A deep rumble rattled from his chest and into hers. “That’s my girl.”

Felix was gentle with their foreplay, but not with this. Holding her wet pajama bottoms to one side, he thrust in to the hilt in one vicious stroke.

The breath exploded out of her as the stretch and burn registered. The discomfort was a low drone in the back of her mind — nothing but static as the rest of her screamed with victory.

Elation unlike anything she’d ever felt made her blood fizz in her veins.

Her fingers curled in Felix’s wavy black hair as he set a pace of slow, deep strokes.

He never let up on her jaw, no matter how hard she unconsciously strained against his grip, but he gave her everything else she could’ve asked for.

His free hand found its way back to her shorts. Bunching the gusset in his hand, he sawed it back and forth in time with his thrusts. Pleasure burst with each pass.

Lips moving restlessly against her neck, he hissed, “You’re mine, Dahlia. Everything about you has been mine since that night in the bar. Everything you are belongs to me. Your body. Your blood. Your perfect cunt.”

She didn’t realize she was nodding frantically until he growled, “Use your words, pet. I want to hear you say it.”

How he expected her to talk when he had a hand on her jaw and he’d decidedto hammer her cervix like he wanted to break the damn thing down, she had no idea.

A high whistling note was all she managed as lewd sounds filled the sitting room — wet ones, the slap of their bodies coming together, and the ominous, rhythmic creaking of the antique couch they were at serious risk of ruining.

Felix pulled out of the circle of her arms. Dodging her frantic clawing to get him back, he straightened up enough to peer down at where they were joined. His lips parted on a ragged breath. “Now that’s a sight. I’m the luckiest fucker on this planet.”

Her mind went fuzzy. An animal urge to mark him swelled in her chest, dislodging all the oxygen she’d managed to drag in. Unable to bite, Dahlia made a furious sound and attacked his black shirt.

Buttons flew in all directions as she tore the sides apart, revealing a shocking expanse of pale skin and a swirl of crimson. It took her a second to realize it was a tattoo — a splash of blood, maybe — before her instinct took over again.

Felix hollered a curse when she raked her nails down his chest to the base of his cock, leaving livid tracks of red in her wake.

“My sweet girl. You want to give me gifts?” He leaned back a bit, angling his hips, and drove himself deep. Stilling, he gave her a sinister half-smile. “Every time you mark me, you get a reward.”

He didn’t give her a second to try and guess what that might be.

Felix set a new pace. This one was all force — short, shallow thrusts at an upward angle. Stars exploded in front of her eyes.

Dahlia didn’t realize she’d tilted her head back until it hit the fine polished wood frame of the couch. She scratched at the hand on her jaw, her nails leaving scores in the across his knuckles and the powerful muscle of his forearm as he pounded at her g-spot mercilessly.

Her orgasm was just as violent. It struck her like the crack of a whip over and over, seemingly endless. A rough, breathless laugh filled her ears as he forced her abused cunt to give him more, to keep the ripples going until her thighs began to shake.

Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She snapped her teeth again and again, but there was nothing to bite, and the frustration was enough to make her scream as Felix emptied himself inside her with a drawn out groan.

When he finally stilled, he hunched over her shaking body again. Dahlia’s limbs snapped inward automatically, seeking shelter in the shadow of him. He made soft shushing sounds as he turned her face away from his neck.

“How is this better?” she cried, overwhelmed by the pain in her mouth now that the pleasure was fading.

Felix pressed a kiss to her thundering pulse. “Vampires are possessive. It’s how we keep our food to ourselves. Knowing everyone will see that I’m off limits won’t fill your belly, but it’ll satisfy other parts of you.”

Dahlia squinted at him. It was hard to see his face from the angle he held her at, and her tears made everything blurry, but she still managed to get a peek of the raised welts she left on his neck and collar bones.

The pain didn’t go away, but she was baffled to feel it dull, just a little, as her gaze traced the red marks her nails left on his skin.

“My mouth still hurts,” she complained, not wanting to admit he was right.

Felix stroked her sweaty hair away from her face. She almost hated how soothing it was, and when he nuzzled her temple… Dahlia tried not to think of anything at all.

“I know.” He almost sounded genuinely upset by that.

Felix slid his arms under her knees and around her back.

Lifting her up and standing in one impressively athletic motion, he soothed, “We’re going to get you some synth.

It should ease the pressure for a little while. You can drink it in the bath.”

Sniffling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and asked, “Is there lots of hot water?”

He gave her an odd look, but he still answered, “As much as you’d like, pet.”