She laughed softly. “I should have fed you first.”

He rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “Cold hands, warm heart. Or no heart, in my case.”

“Don’t say that.” The kindness in her voice drove the scar daggers another inch deeper.

“No talking. Just relax.”

“You can’t stop me from thinking it.” But her head dropped back down as his thumbs traveled the sides of her spine, covering the white, pebbled marks where her signum had once been. He wanted to kiss them. Instead, he kneaded and massaged as best he could, trying to coax away the pain clinging to her. Where she wasn’t scarred, her skin was warm satin.

Her soft sighs and gentle moans told him his efforts were working. Her grip on her robe loosened, dropping the folds of fabric until the small of her back was exposed. He ignored the desires of his flesh and focused on the soothing of hers, but if he was honest, this was as much for him as it was for her. Yes, he wanted to take her pain away, but he’d been desperate to touch her since the first night she’d walked into his life and nearly killed him. She should have.

She was warm with the life he’d never have again, but touching her made it seem like his future could somehow be different. At least if she was in it. She won’t be.

He shoved the voices away and went back to work. His fingers stroked each muscle until she leaned into his touch. He went a little harder and she rewarded him with a sigh. “That feels amazing.”

“How’s the pain?”

She was quiet for a moment. “It was gone about five minutes ago, but I didn’t want you to stop.”

“I won’t until you tell me to.”

“You can. If you want. You must be tired, too, what with not having daysleep and all.”

“And if I don’t want to stop?”

She didn’t answer, but her body stiffened, undoing what he’d been working so hard at. Damn it, he’d pushed too much.

“I… I need to feed you. But a couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

He splayed his fingers over her back, using lighter strokes this time, tracing the remaining signum as he worked his way up toward her neck again. Maybe he hadn’t pushed too hard after all. Maybe… He bent forward and brushed a kiss across one of the worst scars.

She sucked in a deep breath. And leaned into him a little more.

He added a second kiss, letting his mouth linger on her skin.

“Mal,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t.”

“I know,” he whispered back, placing a third kiss on the sun signum on the back of her neck. He rested his head against the golden mark, content just to be with her in that moment. Her beating heart filled his ears, the rush of her blood throbbing into his skin with a siren’s call. His fangs descended and the beast within him reared its head, erasing the traces of his human face. Bite her. You’re so close. Do it. Drain her.

Unable to help himself, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck and opened his mouth. Yessssssss…

Her hand crept up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading through his hair, and she turned, somehow exposing more of herself to him. The touch almost undid him. “I want it, too.”

Her words were so soft only his ears could have heard them. They couldn’t be real. Something inside him broke. He pulled away. Fool. “Don’t say that.”

She twisted to look at him, then quickly looked away. “You’re right. I didn’t mean it.”

He grabbed her arm. “Yes, you did. And I understand, but feeling that way and saying it to me are two very different things.” He let her go, realizing that he was trembling and that she could feel it. “I have a bloody hard time controlling myself around you as it is.”

She tugged her robe back up and secured it. “I know. I shouldn’t have said it. Heat of the moment. Too much blood in my system. Won’t happen again.”

He stared at her, knowing he should keep his mouth closed but unable to. “The moment or the words?”

Pushing her sleeve up, she exposed her wrist. The next second she had the blade on her ring flicked out and was holding her arm over the glass. A sharp jab and blood flowed into the glass.

The dark, seductive aroma set him on fire, but he held still, waiting for her response. She didn’t say a word. “You’re not answering me?”

Without taking her gaze from what she was doing, she shook her head noncommittally. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “Maybe. Probably.”

“To which one?”

She bent her arm, pressing her thumb over the puncture mark, and stood. “You’d better drink that while it’s warm.” Then she walked away, leaving him unanswered.

He picked up the glass, the heat of her blood warming his hand immediately and making his jaw ache. As soon as he drank this, he’d get his answer, because there was still one kiss left.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Tatiana had sent Octavian to another part of the house while she waited alone in the living room. There was no need for him to witness whatever was about to happen, no need for him to be in harm’s way. Now that she was Dominus, the need to protect her small family had become a priority, regardless of how loyal Daci truly was. So far, she had done nothing to lose Tatiana’s trust, but her actions in Paradise City would go a long way toward cementing her place in Tatiana’s inner circle. She actually hoped Daci did well, and not just because Tatiana desperately wanted to close the comarré chapter of her life.




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