He touched a hand to my face. "You don't get it, do you?"
"What?"
"One touch, one taste, is never going to be enough."
I smiled. "It doesn't have to be enough."
"I know. And if you were something other than a werewolf, I would take all you could offer in an instant."
I sighed. "But I am a werewolf, I will always be a werewolf, and asking me to forget all that I am is like asking you to stop taking blood."
"It's not the same—"
"It is," I insisted. "The moon celebration is vital to a wolf. The dance is vital. Sex is a part of what we are, as vital to us as blood is to you."
"You would not die if you didn't have sex."
"Wouldn't I? You know that for sure, do you?"
He didn't answer. I sighed again. "Look, take however much time you need to make a decision about us, but in the meantime, you can't go to the function emoting like you are. An orgy is not what we need to happen tonight."
"I can control it."
"Have you any idea just how strongly you're projecting?"
"I'm not."
"Maybe not at the moment, because you're holding it fiercely in check. But when I walked to the car, you weren't controlling it, and when I took off my coat, you weren't."
"That was a moment of surprise, nothing more."
"It's at dangerous levels."
"No, it's not."
I growled in frustration. "Dammit, do you want to feel exactly what you're projecting?"
"What I want is for you to get off my lap and leave me in peace."
"Answer the damn question."
"Riley—"
"Yes or no."
"If I say yes, will you back off?"
"Yes.
"Then, yes."
I dropped my shields and let him have it. The more a werewolf desires sex, the more intense their aura. I wanted him real bad, and my aura reflected that. It was lust and heat and passion all rolled into one explosive punch. Quinn's eyes widened, and suddenly the air was so thick and hot I couldn't even breathe. I re-shielded fast, and took a deep, quivering breath. "That's what you're projecting."
Then I leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. He didn't react for the barest of seconds, then he was right there with me, his mouth plundering mine almost desperately.
"I need you," I whispered against his lips. "As much as you need me."
He groaned and pulled me closer, squashing my breasts against his chest. The thunder of his heart matched mine, and the heat of his desire warmed every pore. But the hard length of him was still restrained by his pants, and this was bad, because I was aching to feel him deep, deep inside.
I rose onto my knees, reaching between us, freeing him from the restrictions of his clothing, pushing his pants back down his legs. Then I thrust down on him, claiming him in the most basic way possible. He groaned again, his hands sliding down to my hips, his grip bruising as he pressed me down harder. I echoed his groan, loving the way he seemed to complete me. It had nothing to do with his size or his shape or anything physical. It was almost as if when our flesh was joined, our spirits combined and danced as intimately as our bodies.
He began to move, not gently, but fiercely, urgently, and I was right there with him. The deep down ache bloomed, spreading like wildfire across my skin, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, pushing him deeper still. Pleasure exploded between us, his movements becoming faster, more urgent.
"Look at me," he growled.
My gaze met his, and something deep inside quivered. His eyes burned with desire and passion, but something else, something I couldn't name, seared the ebony depths, stirring me in ways I didn't think possible.
This is why I can't be casual, he said, his mind-voice flowing through every fiber, a rich, sensual song that had my soul soaring, and my heart aching. This is far deeper. Far stronger.
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His mouth claimed mine again, his kiss as ardent as his body. Then everything broke, and I was unraveling, groaning with the intensity of the orgasm flowing through me. He came with me, but as his body flowed into mine, he broke our kiss, his teeth grazing my neck. I jerked reflexively when they pierced my skin, but the brief flare of pain quickly became something undeniably exquisite, and I came a second time, the orgasm shuddering on and on as he drank and drank.
When he finally released me, I collapsed against him, body quivering and head spinning. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have taken that much."
"You needed it." My voice was harsh with tiredness, and perhaps a little shock at the sudden blood loss.
"Yes." He hesitated. "You were right. I should have taken sustenance far sooner."
I yawned, then asked, "So why didn't you?"
"Because it was the sweetness of your blood I desired. I didn't want other women."
I stirred and looked up at him. "You couldn't get it up?"
He grinned. "Oh, I could. I just didn't want to."
"That's stupid."
"Yes. Particularly seeing I'm old enough to know better." He slipped his hands under my butt, and lifted me off him. At least his touch had lost its cold edge. "You need to eat something, and regain strength."
"I need to sleep."
"That's only because I took so much blood. You must eat something rich in iron."
"You have a handy hamburger lying about this fancy crate?"
"As a matter of fact, yes I do." He did up his pants and rose. "This fancy crate has seen a lot of seductions over the years, and I've learned to cater for my meals." He Hashed me a smile over his shoulder that had my depleted blood stirring. "Hope you don't mind your burger microwaved."
"Not in the least." I forced myself upright, and shuffled to the toilet to clean up. The teeth marks in my neck were little more than pink dots. By the time we arrived at the function, they'd be gone. One good thing about a vampire bite—the evidence of it didn't hang around all that long. Unless, of course, you had multiple bites, which took a little longer to fade.
The rich smell of meat began to fill the air, and my stomach rumbled as I walked over to the microwave.
"Your burger, madam," he said, handing me the plate.
"Yum." I parked on a sofa and dove in. As far as microwaved burgers went, it was pretty damn good.
Quinn poured himself a bourbon, and sat down on the seat opposite. Maybe he figured it was safer keeping a little distance between us. Though if he thought I'd jump his bones again he was in for a disappointment. I couldn't afford to lose any more blood tonight.
"So," I said, licking the ketchup off my fingers. "Where do we go from here?"
His dark gaze followed my actions almost hungrily.
Obviously, his appetite was nowhere near sated, but given I could no longer sense it, it had dipped below danger point.
"We are in much the same quandary as we were before," he said.
"Why?"
"I don't want to share you, Riley."
Don't, not won't. That was a more-than-hopeful sign. "Then let's throw a few more facts into the mix. I live in Melbourne. You live in Sydney. That means it's not going to be possible for us to see each other every night, if only because you have a business to run."
"True."
"I have no intentions of moving to Sydney. Do you intend to move Evensong Air's headquarters to Melbourne?"
"At the moment, no."
"So, you're telling me you won't share, but you probably won't be able to get down here more than two or three times a week."
"Possibly. But lots of relationships work fine like that."
"Human relationships, yes. As I keep reminding you, I'm a werewolf, with werewolf needs."