Page 33 of Loving Amari

“Looks like there’s more encrypted files that I’ll have to break through,” I tell her, pushing back from my desk. The challenge excites me, but watching Carla commands more of my attention right now.

“What are you doing?” I smile as I watch the magic pulse between her fingers. She’s in deep concentration, her brow furrowed adorably, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I love watching her like this—my beautiful, powerful mate coming more into herself. It meant everything to me to wake up and find her still sleeping on top of me. She chose me. She stayed with me. I’ll spend the rest of my days worshiping her, makingsure she knows I appreciate her decision to choose me every single day.

I take a break from my screen and walk over to her, my mind drifting back to earlier this morning—to Carla waking up to my head between her legs. Oh, how I love the way she comes on my tongue, her voice breaking as she gasps my name.

Carla looks up at me from her focusing as I approach, and she smiles. Always that loving smile when it comes to me. It never fails to make my dead heart feel alive.

“How’s it going with you?” I ask, settling beside her on the couch.

“I think I can do it,” she says, the magic brightening between her palms.

I grin at her confidence. “I know you can.”

“When you drink from me, you take some of my magic. Every time.” She tilts her head, studying me with those vibrant green eyes.

“Yes, but it dulls down.” I’ll always be tethered to her through the mate bond, but the burst of energy I get when I feed on her never lasts past a couple of days. It’s like catching lightning in a bottle—brilliant but temporary.

Carla moves closer to me, her peachy scent making my fangs ache. “I want you to feed on me before we leave.”

Caution immediately floods through me. “Won’t that weaken you a bit?”

She shrugs, too casual for my liking. “Yes, maybe a little.”

I step back, shaking my head. “Then no, I won’t take from you.”

Carla rolls her eyes at that, and I recognize the spark of defiance lighting her features.

“I’m not going to have you take stupid risks just to make me happy,” I tell her, crossing my arms.

She frowns at me, standing to face me properly. “What about my happiness? That’s you! Now shut up and do what I ask you to do.”

I grin at her then laugh, unable to help myself. “I love it when you get bossy with me, Carla.”

Before she can respond, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her into a loving kiss, pouring my heart into her. Every ounce of adoration, every moment of worship, flows through our connection. When I finally release her, she’s dazed, her lips swollen and eyes glazed.

I gently tilt her head to the side and bite down on her neck, sinking my fangs into her soft skin. The moment her blood hits my tongue, I get a wave of her arousal so strong it nearly brings me to my knees. I’m ready to pull her panties down, slam her against the wall, and fuck her senseless. The urge is primal, overwhelming.

But I hold back, groaning when she pushes herself against me, her body seeking more contact. I force myself to pull my fangs out of her neck, licking the wound to seal it with my saliva. The metallic-peach taste of her blood sings through my veins.

“I didn’t take as much as I usually do,” I say, stepping back before I lose all control. “I don’t want you to be weak in limbo.”

“Do you feel my magic pulsing in you?” she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Yes.” I can feel it thrumming under my skin.

Carla uses her magic, and I watch in fascination as a cloak forms over me. The material isn’t quite fabric, more like solidified spiderweb made of pure magic. Pink light dances across it in the office light, weightless but somehow substantial.

“Limbo is not a place for the living. If at any time you feel weird, you go back, do you understand me?” The steel in her voice makes it clear this isn’t a request.

I nod to her, then can’t resist adding, “I’m not technically living since I’m a vampire.”

“Shut up.” She points a stern finger at me. “Do not pretend you’re okay in there when you’re not. Tell me when you’re feeling unwell. Don’t make me kick your ass.”

I smirk at that. “Maybe I will so you can kick my ass.”

I can’t help myself—I always fall into asshole mode when she gets bossy. It turns me on when she gets feisty with me. I grab her hips and pull her close to me, feeling her curves press against my body.