Page 26 of Savage Thirst

Irresistible.

She's not screaming. Not begging for my noble brother to come rescue her from the monster's clutches.

Maybe she figures he'd be a little less merciful if he knew she was stealing his cash stash.

Or maybe... she wants to play this little dark game we started a year ago.

And then she answers me—voice edged with heat and curiosity:What do you have in mind?

Fuck me.

With her, I never know if I want to rip her throat out… or make her scream my name for an entirely different reason.

But right now, I know exactly what I want.

"Well," I drawl, tugging a strand of her light brown hair, all tousled and messy. She's wild, inside and out. "I think this conversation deserves a more… private setting."

Before she can blink, I scoop her up. She barely has time to grab on, startled by the speed, before we're in my room.

The door slams shut behind us.

I set her down in the middle, bare feet landing on the soft rug, her balance wobbling, still dizzy from the ride.

"What…?" she breathes, blinking around, disoriented.

My room's a disaster. Shit thrown everywhere. Half-packed bags. I was going to leave, but clearly, the universe had other plans.

"Welcome to my humble corner of the asylum, sweetheart," I say, voice smooth as sin. "Feel free to scream, by the way. Since my saint of a brother likes hosting all sorts of supernaturals, some with delicate hearing, he had the walls spelled to block sound. Ain't that considerate?"

The implication hangs between us, thick and intentional.

No one will hear a damn thing.

She scans the room, still just in my brother's shirt. No one should look that good in borrowed cotton. But she does.

The hem barely brushes her mid-thigh. Her tattoos peek out, vines creeping up her skin, blooming under the fabric. And damn if I'm not craving to slide it up and see where they start and trace every curve of that ink, uninterrupted.

"So," I say, voice low as I begin to circle her. "Getting back to our little conversation…"

My movements are slow, deliberate, each step measured. A predator stalking prey.

She follows me from the corner of her eye, not turning, not speaking. Her lips are parted, her breathing quick. Alert, braced, and beautiful.

"You asked me what I had in mind…" I continue, letting the words stretch, teasing. "And oh, sunshine… you don't want to know the things I've imagined. Trust me. You couldn't handle them."

I stop just behind her.

She doesn't move.

"But I think one thing's necessary." I pause, then drop it like a promise. "A lesson."

Her head tilts slightly at the word, hair falling to the side, exposing more of that perfect, bare neck.

The urge to bite flares so strong, it feels like a second heartbeat in my skull.

But I can control it.

Iwillcontrol it.