Page 79 of Whispers of Ruin
“You should get more rest in a safer place. You still look pale and”—she rested her fingers against his neck as she leaned over to inspect his wound—“that’s not healing as fast as it should.”
When she leaned closer, her scent engulfed him, and his dick jumped as the dark fae also sought to be sated. Memories of her moving against him, crying out his name, and unleashing her power nearly sent him spiraling out of control.
Part of why he wasn’t healing as fast as he should was because of how desperately he needed to sate his appetites. The mandaru had drained his energy, and his body sought to replace it… with her.
She’d given herself willingly to him before, but that didn’t mean she would do so again, and he’d never been a man to force himself on anyone. He’d die of starvation or kill himself before he did that to her.
Turning his head away, he closed his eyes and leashed the ravenous impulses battering him. His fingers dug into his palms.
“I have to feed.” His voice was thick and distorted by the fangs he couldn’t control. “I’ll feel better after that.”
Kaylia’s fingers stilled on his neck, and her breath tickled his cheek as her scent intensified. Her pulse became a riotous crescendo in his ears, but he couldn’t tell if it was his hunger making it sound so chaotic or if itwasbeating faster.
But then, it could be her apprehension propelling it to faster and faster levels. She’d let him feed from her before; that didn’t mean she would again.
“I have to hunt,” he choked out.
“No, you don’t.” Her hand moved beneath his injury to stroke his neck. “I’m right here.”
Without warning, the memory of the taste of her blood and the rush of its power exploded in his mind. When an inhuman sound issued from him, Kaylia’s heartbeat picked up a little, but she didn’t shy away from him.
She had to sense how starved he was, yet she kept her fingers on his nape as she inched closer. All he could think about was sinking his fangs into her throat and fucking her until everything else ceased to exist.
His need for her was a physical ache that held him immobile as her taste, scent, and feel bombarded his senses. But Brokk was afraid if he started, he wouldn’t stop and, in the end, he’d leave her weaker than him… if not worse.
CHAPTERSEVENTY-THREE
“I can’t,”he grated out.
“Why not? I’m here, and you’re not in any condition to hunt anything for its blood, especially out there.”
When he met her gaze, the vivid red of his eyes reflected at him from hers. It was an effort to keep speaking, but he had to make her see. “Because I don’t just thirst for your blood. I wanteverything.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she stopped breathing. He didn’t know if she understood exactly what he meant by that. This wasn’t about sex or blood; it was aboutthem,her heart… and the ghost haunting it.
Before he could make that clear to her, she leaned forward and kissed him. At first, it was only a brush of lips that held the promise of more to come, but it still shot blood straight to his cock.
For a second, his fear of hurting her and desire tore him in two, but he couldn’t resist her allure. His fingers twitched as he struggled to lift his arms. He loathed the weakness still clinging to him but eventually got them around her.
Pulling her against his chest, he locked her there as he savored the taste of her while the kiss deepened. Tasting her again soothed some of his appetites, as touching her strengthened him.
Still feeling thick and awkward, his fingers moved a little easier as they threaded through her hair. He cursed the clothes between them when she melted into his embrace.Everypart of her was exquisite, and she fit against him as if she were made for him.
Her hands tugged impatiently at his tunic, pulling it upward until she broke the kiss. Brokk somehow managed to get his fingers to release their hold on her and not fall limply to his sides while she pulled off his tunic.
When she tossed it aside, his arms fell to the ground. His fingers twitched as he eyed her tunic, and through strength of will, he managed to get them to rise.
Concern flickered through her eyes when she noticed his struggle, but she grasped the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Every cell in his body fired at once as a loud ringing sounded in his ears, and her tunic fell to the ground.
She was magnificent, with a body made for fucking, and while his arms and fingers still felt rather useless, his dick did not. Her simple white bra followed her shirt, and when she came back to him, the sensation of her bare flesh against his sent him spiraling.
Somehow, he managed to get his arms around her waist, but he couldn’t lift them any higher to lock her against him. When she turned her head to expose her neck, concern he might harm her flashed through him, but the temptation of her blood was too much to resist.
His lips skimmed back as his fangs elongated; her skin was warm beneath his mouth when he sank his fangs into her exposed vein. She gasped when he pierced her skin before releasing a low moan.
As quickly as she’d tensed against him, she relaxed and shifted to wind her legs around his waist. Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer as she moved in an erotic way that almost made him come in his pants.
The woman was a temptress whose sounds and movements told him she enjoyed this as much as him. Her pleasure heightened his own as her blood doused some of the fire raging through them.
