Page 26 of The Vampire's Werewolf Bodyguard

Cody

Pain fades into euphoria, spiraling higher with each pulse of blood. Each swallow sharpens the clarity of pleasure. Cody had expected the drug-like haze vampires are known for. This is so much more.

Cody had been nervous, of course. Treaty or not, blood drinking is still dangerous. But Simon is experienced enough to feed without harming, and Cody is strong enough to break free if something goes wrong.

That’s the logical risk assessment. Really, all logic paled before Simon’s incredulous face. Cody had shocked Simon with the offer. He likes that.

He also likes this: Simon, curled in his lap, clutching him so tightly. Despite the inherent violence of the bite, Cody’s raging emotions settle. Fear and guilt seep away, already broken on the rocks of Simon’s conviction. His muscles loosen. His wolf feels tranquil, protective urges soothed. Even when Simon moves against his aching cock.

Cody’s mate is still in danger, and he hasn’t found the source of the threat, but he isn’t helpless. He can heal his mate with his blood. That’s worth any amount of pain.

Wait.

Cody’s breath hitches. Not his mate. He hasn’t claimed Simon as his mate. He can’t think like that, not after what happened to Simon’s brother. Not mates, just… whatever they are to each other.

Even though this bite mirrors the claiming bite, and Cody already feels bound to Simon. This won’t leave a scar, but it doesn’t need to. The mark will linger in his memory.

Labels don’t matter when having Simon in his arms feels so right.

Making a small sound, Simon grinds against Cody. His back tenses under Cody’s hands, and whisper-soft hair brushes Cody’s jaw. Cody’s world narrows to quiet noises and the smell of his own blood.

Simon’s faint, slow pulse beats harder. He was right. This is better than sex.

Cody doesn’t know how long they remain locked together. It feels like hours, but it’s probably only moments. With a tugging pain, Simon’s lips leave his neck.

“I’ll close it,” Simon says quietly. “It won’t scar, unlike…”

So, he’s thinking about the mating bond, too.

Simon licks the wound, and the wet push of tongue breaks Cody from hazy bliss. His fingernails dig into Simon’s back at the strange tingle. But the bleeding stops and the pain eases as Simon closes the bite.

When Simon pulls away, his mouth is red with blood. One droplet slides from the corner of his lips. Cheeks flushed pinker than Cody’s ever seen them, Simon looks well-fed, well-fucked, and utterly content. Either that was as good for him as it was for Cody, or even better.

Cody’s breathless at the sight. “Wow.”

Simon’s eyes are wide and unfocused, still brilliant red. He blinks rapidly, as if shaking himself awake. “Are you all right?”

“Hell of an understatement,” Cody says, and holds Simon still by the back of his neck.

Simon melts into the bloody kiss. The taste of Cody’s own blood is unexpectedly arousing. Not as delicious as Simon seems to find it—Cody likes it because of Simon’s hunger. Because blood is proof Cody’s taking care of his mate.

Not his mate. Fuck. Cody licks the stray droplet from Simon’s chin.

Shivering beautifully, Simon presses his cool forehead to Cody’s heaving chest. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” Cody says, and means it.

They drape together, warm and exhausted, all but post-coital. Staying here forever would be nice. Cody’s still hard, but his arousal isn’t urgent.

Eventually, Simon shifts his weight back. Cody can’t help his small growl of protest, but he reluctantly loosens his grip.

Simon stands with new, fluid grace. His pajama shirt is askew, exposing one pale shoulder, but he looks regal. Every shadow in the kitchen is part of his raiment.

“Want to see a magic trick?” Simon asks with a flourish.

A ribbon of fire blossoms above his hand .

Cody nearly knocks his chair over jumping to his feet. The brief jolt of fear isn’t a werewolf thing. Anyone would have a reaction to surprise fire. But Cody’s instinct quickly scatters into wonder. “Holy shit. You can—you have magic?”

Firelight dances across Simon’s pale face. His eyes are bright blue-green again, his hunger sated. “The shadow-gift grants myriad powers, especially when a vampire is sired with ancient blood. Tania could turn into a swarm of bats. Francisco could vanish into fog.” With a showman’s smirk, Simon snaps his fingers. The flame vanishes. “I have fire.”

Darkness deepens across the kitchen.

“Wow,” Cody says again. “I’m guessing you’re feeling better.”

In a blur, Simon stands beside the fridge. One heartbeat later, he’s in front of Cody again. “What are you thinking?”

A million things. Relief that Simon is strong again. Pride in having helped. Cody wants more magic tricks, more showing off, more cold touches. He wants to learn how to paint better, to try and capture the light and shadow of Simon’s face. He wants to bend Simon over the kitchen table and demonstrate exactly how impressed he is.

One sharp thought pushes above the rest. “You’re amazing,” Cody says. “No wonder other vampires are scared of you.”

Sunlight. Wooden stakes. Fire. Not many things can harm a vampire. Simon must have been quite the threat during treaty negotiations.

Simon gives the particular smile that Cody is starting to recognize as sad. “Francisco was much more popular at parties. No need for fog machines. Enough about the magic, though.”

Slim fingers trace a possessive caress over Cody’s lips, not quite pushing into his mouth. Cody’s never been so sensitive to touch before. When they part, Simon’s fingers are wet with remnants of blood.

“You say you aren’t a detective,” Simon says—and slowly licks the blood from his fingers.

Cody swallows hard. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

“Good answer.” Simon’s grin turns devilish. “Tomorrow night, before Dima gets here. You and I have a crime scene to inspect.”