Ella hooked her foot around the leg of one of her dining room chairs and yanked it out. A moment later, she threw him onto the chair, rocking it back on two legs. Then she jerked him forward with the grip she still had on his shirt. The fabric ripped with a sound that seemed to satisfy her.
"I like this shirt." He steeled himself against her anger, her excitement. God, he'd come again if she bit him the way she used to. The mere thought was enough to stir arousal, and he was way too damned old for that. "Remember. Stay out of my head."
She swung one leg over his lap, straddling his knees as she looked down at him. "You want it to hurt?"
"I want it to feel like someone's biting the hell out of my neck," Blake snapped. "I want it to feel like what it is."
"I'll try." Cool fingers brushed his hair away from his neck, and she settled onto his lap with a serious look on her face. "You're the Everclear of shapeshifters, lover. A girl can get drunk on your power if she's not careful."
Her touch made him shiver, and he arched up against her, already hard again. "I'm not your lover, Ella. I'm just some stupid bastard you fuck when it serves your purpose."
She curled her fingers in his hair and tugged his head back. "I wish that were true. More than you'll ever know." She didn't wait for a response, didn't give him a chance to make one. She breathed against his neck, hot and damp, then bit him.
The sharp sting bloomed into searing agony. He wanted to throw her off of him. He wanted to throw up. He just wrapped his hands around the bottom of the chair and held on, gritting his teeth.
Ella made a distressed noise against him and brought one hand up to gently stroke the side of his neck. He felt the brush of her tongue before she lifted her head. "Just a little," she whispered, pleaded. "I don't want to hurt you like this...."
He lifted his hand to his neck and grimaced when it came away streaked with blood. "It hurts worse the other way. It always has."
She pulled his hand away and lowered her mouth again, running her tongue over the wounds until the magic inside of her had healed the puncture marks.
Then she slipped from his lap and fled.
Blake watched her go, fury building inside him. She knew he'd chase her, was using his own instincts to manipulate him. She wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted—him, back in her thrall. Under her spell.
Fuck that shit.
He followed, slamming through the door and into her bedroom, his chest heaving. He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up until they were nose-to nose. "I should leave. You got yourself into this mess, put yourself on the City Head's radar by being so goddamned power hungry." He pressed his mouth to her ear. "And stop fucking playing me, Ella. It's no good anymore."
She snarled, a sound that was anything but human. "I hate you. You make me weak. I should have just done it, done what I wanted. I shouldn't care."
"Yeah, maybe you should have." He let go of her and scrubbed his hands over his face. "You have no idea, Ella. No idea how long it took me to get the taste of you out of my mouth. There were times I couldn't come unless someone was biting me, unless I was pretending—" He bit off the words with another curse. "And here you are, wanting me right back in that hole, just because you can't stand to watch me hurt. Well, guess what? If you ever stuck around, you'd see me hurt plenty."
"Oh, you couldn't come unless you pretended?" Her hand struck his chest, driving him back against the door. "Well I couldn't come at all. Before you, the last guy who could get me off with any consistency fought in the Revolutionary War."
He should have known she'd think reliable orgasms were the point. "That's not me, Ella. That's your obsessive need for control." He framed her face with his hands and stared down at her. "You destroyed me once, and you're about to do it again."
Blake slid his hands down to the back of her neck and unfastened her silk halter. It fell to her waist, and he cupped her breasts, his eyes fixed on hers, and whispered, "Why is the power so important? Why is it more important than me?" The question and its possible answers haunted him. He had to know.
"Because I'd lose you eventually." Her head fell back, and her eyes drifted shut, leaving him staring at the way her long eyelashes stood out so starkly against her pale skin. "You would keep me safe for a decade or two, but I'd be weaker when you were gone. Maybe too weak to protect myself."
"I won't live forever," he agreed. He closed his own eyes and nuzzled her face, then sighed. "Tonight, Ella. Then no more. I—I can't do it. I can't live like this."
"Tonight." Her fingers rose to his shirt. She tugged open the first two before slipping her fingers underneath the fabric and touching his chest. "If this is the last time, I want everything."
He kissed her as they undressed each other. It took forever, both of them bumbling over buttons and zippers, but it didn't matter. His mouth moved over hers, gentle and caressing. Loving.
Blake was panting by the time he picked her up and laid her across the end of her bed. He lowered his mouth to her stomach and traced his tongue around her navel. "What do you want?"
Her hand fell to his forehead and brushed his hair back. "Remember San Diego?"
"The part where I tied you up, or all the stuff I did after that?"
Ella twisted onto her stomach and rose to her knees, giving him a torturous view of her ass as she crawled up the mattress. A sturdy, plain-looking dresser sat next to the bed, and she dragged open the middle drawer before sliding back onto the pillows. "Anything you want." She smiled slowly, flashing those tiny fangs at him. "Anywhere you want."
He snagged her halter from the floor before following her to peer into the drawer. "Christ, Ella. What do you not have in here?" He pulled out a thick piece of metal shaped vaguely like a cock. He twisted it and it began to vibrate. "We didn't have one of these in San Diego. It's nice."
She just twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Her expression fell far short of innocent. "I don't know how I survived almost four hundred years without the internet."
He dragged her hands up to the headboard and wrapped the ice blue silk around her wrists, binding them. He knelt over one of her legs and flashed her a wicked grin. "I imagine you got creative with whatever you had on hand."
"And now you're going to do the same?"
He murmured his assent and warmed the metal, then touched it to her inner thigh. "The only question now is what to put where." He leaned over her and licked her nipple lightly as he slid the vibrator up, letting it flutter against her clit.
The reaction he got was even better than he'd hoped for. She spread her legs and thrust her hips up, her breath escaping as a hissed curse. The scent of her arousal filled the room, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than how much he loved having her stretched out and at his mercy.
He twirled his tongue around the stiff peak of her breast and then bit her. "Remember the safe word?"
"Y-yes…"
Her taste fascinated him. He relished the way she shifted and arched under him, straining for the pleasure he held back. She didn't give up control easily, and he knew what it meant for her to do it now, with him. If things were different....
He licked the sharp ridge of her ribs beneath her skin and sat up, watching the polished metal of the vibrator slowly disappear between the smooth pink lips of her cunt. Ella jerked again and this time Blake cursed, struggling for control. "How bad do you want it?"
"Bad." She was writhing a little, trying to work it deeper. The headboard creaked as she arched a little, and she swore and squeezed her eyes shut. "That is three hundred dollar designer silk. If I rip it, I'm going to—"