“Eventually the whisper of The Hunger becomes a temptation and a command that can’t be ignored. Then we kill. And are declared rogue and hunted depending on the circumstances and whether or not rehabilitation is possible.” He reached over and cupped her face, stroked her mouth with his thumb. “Only the taking of a mate frees us from the necessity of using the herbs. The sharing and mixing of blood changes us so The Hunger is completely sated when we feed from our chosen one.”
Dakotah turned her face so that her lips rubbed against his palm. Her tongue darted out, tasting him. “Kiziah said you’re sexually bonded to me.”
His nostrils flared slightly and something primitive moved through his eyes. “I am.”
Dakotah had no desire to have sex with anyone else. The wolf bristled at the thought of it, and yet she could if she wanted to. “I’m not sexually bonded to you.”
“Yet.” His hand moved to her hair, his fingers grasped the dark strands, trapping her as he leaned in, stopping when his lips hovered over hers. “There is no escape, Dakotah, only the choice as to when the second and third exchanges are made.”
He closed the distance, covered her mouth with his. The strength of his hands, the hardness of his body, the fierceness of the need pouring off him all contrasting sharply with the gentleness of his kiss, the slow, seductive dance of his tongue against hers.
Her heart jerked and raced when his fangs extended, tempting her curiosity just as the smell of the herbs and wine had. He groaned when she traced the deadly canines with her tongue, pressed his lower body more tightly to hers so that she could feel the rigid length of his erection.
Of their own accord her hands went to the front of his shirt, trailed down the center of it, releasing the buttons one at a time, not stopping until she’d undone the sole button at the waistband of his jeans. “Dakotah,” he warned and she laughed softly.
It was exhilarating playing with him, dangerous. Like teasing a wolf.
But then she wasn’t afraid of wolves.
She unzipped him, catching his gasp in her mouth and his cock in her hand as she became the aggressor, as she rubbed her tongue against his and explored his straining shaft and heavy balls with her fingers.
He let her, though she knew he could easily take control. And she marveled at how much pleasure it gave her to command his body.
She’d dominated hundreds of men because it meant her continued survival. She’d controlled them. Reduced them to pleading and begging. Been the embodiment of their sexual fantasies. And it had left her cold. Compartmentalized. Wishing only to escape from the hell she found herself in.
But now she found herself in a sensual heaven. Where her blood burned and her body ached.
She knelt, pulling his jeans down with her, pausing to take off his shoes and socks before removing his pants and looking up his body. Marveling at his masculine beauty. He was firm muscle and hard male. Enthralling even without the pheromones of his kind.
The wolf quivered with joy and anticipation, the woman mimicked the movement, shivering, suddenly sorry she’d bothered dressing. The feel of her clothing was an irritation against her skin, a confining presence that needed to be shed.
She stood and stripped. Boldly meeting Domino’s gaze. Her breasts swelling and her nipples tightening as his eyes traveled over her body. His nostrils flaring and his lips parting.
She spread her legs when he got to the dark pubic hair, let him see her flushed, swollen cunt lips and the moisture that was gathered there. A wet, silent summons.
When he dropped to his knees, she buried her fingers in his hair and draped one thigh over his shoulder. Nearly howled with pleasure when his tongue went to her slit, his hungry bites and licks and sucks making her grind herself against his face.
The Heat roared through Domino. The taste of her arousal was almost as addicting as that of her blood.
He wanted to drive his fangs into her thigh, to mix pleasure with pain and find ecstasy. He wanted to consume her. To feast. To fuck. To claim.
But he forced himself to please her instead. To thrust his tongue deep into her channel then retreat to swirl it over her erect clit. To press his lips to her lower ones in an erotic kiss meant to capture then leave that nectar-covered flesh in order to suck on her engorged knob.
She fought the pleasure even as she writhed against him in order to gain more of it. The sound of his name in between her whimpers and deep-throated moans rewarding him and holding him in check.
She would beg for his bite. Beg for the second exchange of blood.
He wanted it to be her choice. He needed it to be her choice. The words he’d said in the woods had come from his heart. He wanted a mate with a mind of her own. With courage of her own.
Domino ate at her until her back bowed and she convulsed with orgasm, flooding his senses with her release. His cock bobbed in warning and only the tight fist of his hand around his penis kept him from spewing his seed across his own stomach. He groaned and looked up, his mouth still buried between her thighs, his lips and tongue pressed to her wet flesh.
The wildness he saw in her eyes rushed through him like a lightning bolt, stripping away the man and the wolf, so that only the vampire remained, a creature of Heat and Hunger.
“Bite me,” she said.
Domino turned his face into her thigh, knowing he was damning himself. But there was no way to ignore her command. No way to ignore the temptation she presented.
His fangs slid through her skin, hitting the artery there with easy accuracy. The hot rush of her blood intoxicating, an addiction he had no hope of curing. It fed The Hunger while The Heat drove him to slide his hand up and down his cock, to palm the head as his tongue lapped at her silky flesh, to resume pumping in time to the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Until Heat and Hunger once again merged, blending together into a single flame that burned with Dakotah’s name, danced in time to her heartbeat. Thundering, racing, spiking with orgasm as jets of semen rushed through his cock. Slowing, stuttering, nearly extinguishing as he sealed the bite and pulled his mouth away, catching her easily as she collapsed.
Every instinct demanded he open a vein and force her to drink, that he make the second exchange when she was too weak and dazed to fight the choice. Domino stood instead, pausing to ensure she wasn’t in danger of dying before retrieving a hand-stitched quilt from the sofa.
He wrapped her in it and settled her on the couch, then dressed himself and doused the fire in the fireplace. It took only a moment to gather her clothes and pick her up. To take her to the car.
He trapped her in obsidian when she stirred and opened her eyes, commanded her to sleep. They were hours away from Matteo’s house. And she was too great a distraction. Too great a temptation.
He wasn’t sure he could fight the demands of his nature if they stayed here. And if she gave in, accepted his blood, asked for it, then they would fuck the rest of the night. His cock would fill time and time again in order to sate the need a second exchange would generate, in order to cement the bond that tied them together sexually until one of them died.
“Sleep,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over her cheek, her lips, kissing her softly before bringing the engine of the powerful sports car to life and leaving Ashberg, his thoughts going to the edict he’d issued. He would know by sunrise whether there was to be a challenge or a pledge.
Dakotah woke to a fantasyscape. Flickering candles and scented air. The crackle of logs burning in the fireplace. A dark prince offering her a goblet of wine.
“Drink,” Domino said, pressing the ornate cup to her hand, its warmth seeping into her palm as the smell of heated wine mixed with some type of herb wafted upward.