Page 30 of Grim’s Delight (The New Protectorate Syndicate #1)

“See, when a vampire finds his anchor, his bride, his mate, what-the-fuck-ever, we don’t do anything halfway.

They are the center of our world, Dahlia.

We would starve without them, so their care is everything.

Their complete trust that their man will protect and provide for them is essential.

It’s written in our DNA. That means that when, say, an anchor hides shit from her vampire, it’s an insult of the highest degree.

A declaration that he’s unfit. That he’s unworthy. ”

Dahlia sputtered. “You just spent ten minutes telling me all the things you have been hiding from me! How am I the one in trouble here when you set off a bomb in my bar and didn’t bother to tell me?”

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” he snarled, the threads of his control finally snapping.

“I never — never! — would’ve put you in danger.

Not for any opportunity. Not even to end the war!

I would’ve found some other way. I would’ve called it off or told you not to go in. The fact that you even thought I’d?—”

A bitter taste like sour, clotted blood filled his mouth.

Felix stood up and paced away, his hands on his hips.

He kept his back to her when he finished, “Here’s how this is going to go down.

You have two choices, Dahlia. You can accept that it’s you and me, now and for the rest of our fucking lives, or you can take that gun and shoot me in the head. ”

“Felix, what ? —”

He faced her. Striding back to the couches, he stopped by the corner of the coffee table and stood there, hands still on his hips, his eyes locked with hers.

“You heard me. Shoot me. You think I’m unfit to be your mate?

You think I can’t care for you or give you what you need?

Then there’s only one way you’re getting rid of me, because I’m not walking away. ”

When she didn’t move, her expression and body frozen, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. She made a choked sound of protest when he shoved the gun in her limp hands. He kept his palms down on the couch cushions, his head up and neck bared. Felix’s lip curled.

“Those are the stakes, pet. That’s how serious this shit is. You either grab that gun and put me down, or you start trusting me. Your call.”

It was harsh. He knew it was. But he also knew his girl. Sexual torture wouldn’t work, and locking her up like an unruly toddler would just piss her off.

No, the only thing Dahlia had ever responded to was power. True, raw power. And there was nothing more true or more raw than putting a gun in her hand and letting her decide what happened next.

What he loved most about his girl was the fact that he genuinely didn’t know what she’d choose. He wagered there was a fifty-fifty chance she took him up on the offer.

“What’s it gonna be, pet?”

Her fingers curled loosely around the grip, but they didn’t stray toward the trigger. “I… I don’t want to kill you!”

“It’s not about wanting. If you really think you’ll never trust me, if you really don’t want to be here, then that’s the only option.

I’m not going away. I’ve proved that again and again.

You want to be single? You want to be with another person?

Someone is going to have to shoot me, because I’m not letting that shit happen while I’m still breathing. ”

“Felix, this is dramatic even for you.” A hysterical edge had entered her voice.

Good, he thought. She’s starting to get it.

“It’s the truth.” He placed his hands on her knees and slowly pried them apart. Her robe slipped away, revealing soft thighs and a stomach that trembled with every frantic breath.

Felix held her stare as he lowered himself down to her soft pink center. The scent of her arousal perfumed every breath even as she made those little sounds of outrage.

“Are you kidding me? You give me a gun, tell me to shoot you, and now you want to go down on me?”

He pressed his lips to the soft curve just below her belly button, his eyes closing. The gun hovered over his head, locked in her frozen hand. “Can’t a man enjoy his last meal?”

“You’ve lost your— Ah!”

Dahlia’s back arched when his tongue slid between those perfect pink folds, arrowing straight for her clitoris.

Vampires had special tongues designed for sucking blood from small wounds.

It was an anatomical quirk that worked beautifully for other things, too, like eating out stubborn women who couldn’t decide if he should live or die.

He didn’t bother looking up to see if she dropped the gun or not when she fisted a hand in his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips into his mouth. Felix kept her legs spread wide on the couch cushions, consumed by the taste and slick heat of her.

Feathering his tongue, he applied rhythmic, sucking pulses directly to her little pearl of nerves, trying to wring out as much pleasure from her as possible. Dahlia gasped, the muscles of her thighs tensing under his hands.

“Felix— Felix. That’s not— I have a gun in my hand! You can’t do that!”

He paused, tongue swiping slowly from top to bottom to collect as much of her taste as he could.

Pulling back a scant inch, he told her, “Then put the gun down, pet. Unless you’d rather not finish.

If you don’t want me to make you come or have my venom in your veins in…

let’s say a minute and thirty seconds, then shoot me. ”

“You can’t… you can’t bite me.” The words came out disjointed, chopped up between panting breaths. “And you cannot make me come that fast.”

The competitive bastard in him roared to life. “You’re wrong on both counts. You’re venom neutral, pet. We can bite each other as much as we please. And as for making you come… Want me to prove it to you?”

He could see the logical, cautious part of her warring with the inherent need to compete with him and prove him wrong, but Dahlia was just as bullheaded and competitive as he was. The smart part of her didn’t stand a chance.

Her eyes gleamed with challenge when she slipped one thigh over his shoulder. Pearly white fangs — perfect, dainty, and sharp — caught the light when she replied, “You know what? I do.”

He flashed a smile. “That’s my girl.”

At this rate, he was going to have to reupholster the couch.

Felix doubled his efforts, alternating between fast, sucking pulls and gentle swipes of his tongue. When she began to tense up, her thighs twitching by his ears, he pulsed his tongue as fast as he could. Dahlia bit out a curse. Her fingers dug into his hair, nearly ripping it out by the root.

Blind need burned through him. Felix tore his mouth away from her delicious cunt and plunged his fangs into the plush skin of her inner thigh.

Three years. Three years he’d dreamed of what it’d be like the day he finally got to taste her.

It was better than he imagined.

Dahlia jerked, a babbling plea escaping her as his venom released with a hot pulse in his gums. Stars popped in front of his eyes. His hips rolled in jagged thrusts, moving in time with the ejection of venom as he came in his slacks.

Felix groaned, long and loud and appreciative. He hadn’t felt that kind of relief in years. There was no other vein for him than hers. To finally be able to bite her was… exquisite.

When he had nothing left to give her, Felix smoothly extracted his fangs and began to draw from her in reverent little sips.

A vampire’s stomach couldn’t hold too much blood at one time, so there wasn’t a danger of killing her, but worry for her health was an ever-present throb in the back of his mind.

Careful not to take too much, he savored every drop.

Her blood was rich and sweet, with a slight bite that made his mouth water for more. He’d never tasted a blood bride before, so he couldn’t say whether her flavor was different from how it’d been when she was human, but it didn’t matter. She was the most incredible thing he’d ever tasted.

Reluctantly finishing his meal, Felix sealed her wounds with several languid licks. Pressing a kiss to the sweet little puncture marks now adorning her creamy thigh, he looked up to find her sprawled out over the back of the couch, the gun dangling from one limp hand.

Her chest heaved beneath her robe and the fingers in his hair went slack. Felix licked his lips as he rose up to grip the back of the couch by her shoulders, caging her in. He dipped his head to press a kiss to her lips — soft, satisfied, and plainly smug.

“Under a minute,” he purred.

Dahlia’s tongue darted out to lap at his mouth. The sweet tastes of her blood and cunt drifted between them, passed from him to her. When she spoke, her voice was ever-so-slightly slurred. “Do I get to keep the gun?”