Page 36

GWYN

Adam’s blood is ordinary, almost watered down in comparison to the demon I drank from.

But as I draw deep, I can’t help but remember the last time I was close to someone like this, drinking from warm skin as rough hands drag over me.

I can almost smell his mint and leather, the smoky aftertaste of Roman nearly overwhelming my own taste buds as I swallow another man’s blood.

Adam groans as he pulls me against him. We’re moving to the music, and I feel his hardness, and then I’m dragging him off the dance floor as his grip moves up my thighs.

My hands shake as we stumble to a poorly lit hallway, and for a split second, I want to stop this.

Every time I throw my body at my depression, hoping to feel something other than disgust, there’s a moment where I second guess what I’m doing.

This one comes when Adam laughs and tries to kiss me.

I could stop this right now.

But I don’t.

Halfway down the hall, we find a door. He’s pulling me into a bathroom that stinks of cherry scented air freshener attempting to cover up the scent of drunken piss that missed the bowl.

The sterile lights above us flood the room as we trip the motion sensor, and I wince at the brightness.

But I’m quickly preoccupied when Adam grabs my hand, pressing it to the bulge in his pants.

My lips are coated in his blood and when he kisses me, I don’t try to escape it, allowing it to smear across his mouth.

It’s messy, and I hate it. But I deserve it.

I deserve to find discomfort in this. I don’t want to kiss anyone ever again, let alone random ass Adam from the bar.

All I want from him is a quick fuck. I need to get back on the proverbial fuck horse again, and he’s my way through it. It doesn’t even have to be good.

I need someone to erase Roman’s indelible mark on me, and this is my best shot.

I get a text, and the tone is loud enough to stop his movements.

He laughs as he finds my phone tucked away in my bra.

He dips, pressing his lips to my chest as he tugs at the silky fabric of my shirt.

When his fingertips brush the phone, I swat his hand away.

Before he can pull it out, before I am faced with a message from Hale or Sasha telling me he’s not coming or that she doesn’t care, I bite him again—hard.

He winces before letting out a soft moan as my teeth sink deep. His hips thrust forward, pinning me against the wall. One large hand snakes up my thigh while the other traces the side of my body, caressing my breast, my waist, my hip, my ass.

As his hand slips under my skirt, he groans when he finds I’m not wearing anything beneath my ripped tights.

I almost laugh, wondering if I’m even wet because everything about this feels so fucking forced.

But I have to go through with it. I have to rid myself of Roman.

I have to move forward, and reclaiming my body as something that doesn’t belong to that imposing asshole is the best way I know how.

“Do you want to know my name?” I ask, breaking away from Adam’s neck for only a second to breathe the question.

“Do I need to?” is his response.

“Fair enough,” I say, and I don’t like the sudden knowledge that Adam might have demons of his own that he’s working through. His hand attempts to paint pleasure across my flesh, but he doesn’t try for long as he stops to unzip his pants.

I close my eyes, inhaling this man’s skin, willing his scent to replace that mint and leather that somehow still haunts me in this dirty bar bathroom. While Adam smells clean and masculine, it’s not enough to overpower the memory of a man who has no business haunting me right now.

Adam positions his cock between my legs, slowly rubbing the tip in a circle over my clit.

He thrusts against my skin, attempting to coat himself in my arousal, but I have none to offer.

And now I’m thinking about fucking Roman raw, the slick glide of his thickness moving with ease as nothing stood between us except every single lie I ever told.

The friction of Adam’s dick against my dry skin makes me gasp in discomfort, and I bite his neck once more, trying to distract myself. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be .

“Condom?” I ask, breaking away from Adam’s neck as I fall into the familiar dull routine of a medicinal fuck.

I lick my lips, wishing we’d picked a more comfortable place.

Nothing about this feels right, but that’s never mattered to me before.

He continues to thrust against me, making sounds as if he’s enjoying himself profusely.

“Do we really need one?” he asks against my skin as he positions his cock at my entrance. Slowly, he rubs his tip in a circle over my opening. My head rests against the wall, and I close my eyes. He has a point, doesn’t he? I’m a vampire after all.

“She doesn’t need your cum dripping down her thighs once you’ve finished.”

For a moment, I think I’ve imagined his voice. But then Adam jerks away from me, and I look toward the door we left wide open.

Roman leans against the doorframe, looking like something out of my nightmares. He’s both formidable and beautiful as usual, long hair falling loose around his furious face, and his eyes rake over my body as Adam drops my leg and turns toward him.

My skirt is rucked up around my hips, and though only a part of me is on display, I feel completely naked.

My skin heats as Roman’s eyes grow dark.

I feel his attention on my center, and I’m more turned on from him looking at me than I was by Adam touching me just a moment ago.

Roman’s nostrils flare, his mouth drops open, and I catch sight of his deadly fangs.

The moment I notice the threat, I grab Adam’s shirt, stopping his approach.

I spin him to face me, not wanting an innocent man’s death on my hands.

“What the fuck is going on?” Adam asks, but I place a gentle kiss on his lips to quiet him. It’s for show, and I’m certain Roman sees right through it. I lift my leg, wrapping it around Adam’s waist once more.

I wonder if perhaps I’m using him as armor by making him shield my nudity.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Roman says. “Do you need some change for the machine?”

I’m like a moon stuck in orbit around a gravity dense planet, unable to escape.

Roman steals my attention, and I can’t deny the pull as I glance toward him.

He folds his arms over his chest as he ducks beneath the doorframe, biceps filling out his leather jacket, and I only feel a little smug as his temple throbs.

He jerks his chin toward the corner of the bathroom where a vintage condom dispenser sits like a horny time capsule, stocked with brands of condoms I don’t recognize.

They probably haven’t been refilled in the last decade, and it’s not like I’m going to use one, so I ignore Roman and kiss Adam again.

But just because I don’t plan on having sex with Adam now that we’ve been interrupted doesn’t mean I can’t fool Roman into thinking I intend to.

“Go away, Roman. Shut the door behind you.”

I meet his gaze as I bite into Adam’s neck once more.

Forcefully and possessively, my fangs sink deep into his flesh.

Behind Roman’s eyes I find that blazing funeral pyre from before, when I’d come in his lap, and I wonder if he plans to immolate himself beside me.

If he lets it, his rage could become an inferno that swallows us both whole.

The scorched heat of his hatred blazes up my ankle to the crook of my knee, to my hand resting on Adam’s neck, to the face he once loved before it betrayed him.

Adam groans as I take a deep pull from his neck, and I use my leg to pull him even closer.

I could fuck him anyway , I think, and the idea of locking eyes with Roman as someone else slips inside of me is far more enticing than it should be.

I shift my hips, searching for the warm skin that I’d found repellant only a moment ago.

Adam stumbles, putting his hand up to the wall behind me to catch himself.

His dick is decidedly less hard than before Roman interrupted us.

It’s not fair that I brought him into this twisted game with my enemy, but it’s too late now. I don’t dare push him away from me. I don’t dare stop drinking from him as Roman watches.

This is a standoff, and I’d be stupid to treat it as anything else.

As I drink Adam’s blood, I wield my attention as a weapon, allowing it to caress over Roman’s form, taking in the man I can’t seem to escape.

Beneath his jacket, he wears a black fitted t-shirt, and I imagine lifting it up, licking a path upward from his hip to his soft stomach.

My scrutiny dips lower, undoing his belt buckle in my mind, grazing over his zipper, and he can’t hide what’s fighting against the constraints of his faded denim.

He clears his throat, and I’m pleased when he looks away, knowing I’ve managed to agitate him.

Slowly, I pull free from Adam’s neck. I lick my lips, and Roman’s gaze catches on my tongue, fixated on the movement as I trace the sharp edge of a lengthened fang.

Roman yields first, but I don’t think I’ve won.

“ Get out ,” he commands, deathly quiet. I don’t bother holding onto Adam as he backs away. Roman ignores the man as he stumbles out of the bathroom, zipping up his pants as blood flows from twin punctures on his neck.

With precise motions, Roman steps into the bathroom. It’s a fairly large one—unisex with a toilet, urinal, sink, and the fucking condom dispenser—but the two of us take up far too much space within the four walls. When Roman shuts the door, twisting the lock, I hold my breath.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, pointedly ignoring the shimmy of my hips as I tug my skirt down.

“What does it look like?” Low and raw, the rasp of my voice leans seductive. He notices, judging by the twitch of his eyebrow.