Page 59 of Out for Blood
When her eyes find mine, the vulnerability is gone. In its place is something else entirely, a restless hunger. A need to outrun the emotions threatening to consume her.
To pour them into something tangible.
Into me.
I know that look. It’s not about desire alone. It’s about grounding. About finding something real when the memories get too loud. About shutting out the ghosts for a little while andanchoring herself to the one thing she knows is here, now, and hers.
The storm is still there, raging beneath the surface, but now it has a direction. Somewhere to go. Somewhere safe to land.
And when she takes a step toward me, I understand exactly what she’s asking for without her having to say a word.
“Come back to me, Cassidy.” My voice lowers, strained. “That’s all I’m asking for right now.”
I arch my eyebrows in the direction of the primary bedroom, and for the first time since we walked into this hell, something close to playful bounces over her face.
It’s enough to loosen the pressure wrapped around me.
She’s covered in blood and sweat, and the sight of her like this makes my dick twitch.
As she works to center herself, I make my move, hurriedly scooping her up off her feet with one arm while my other hand fists her braid.
Her lips find mine instantly, coaxing at first, but fiery need laced with it, like she needs the contact as much as I do.
I hardly have time to breathe before her arms slide around my neck and her legs wrap around my waist, nestling herself against me completely.
A gravelly sound escapes my throat as I brace my hands beneath her thighs and start carrying us backward toward the bedroom.
The kiss intensifies.
What started gently turns impatient with her mouth moving against mine with a kind of urgency that feels less like desire and more like survival, as though we’re both battling to extinguish the images burned into our heads by replacing them with each other instead.
My back hits the wall briefly as she kisses me deeper, fingers threading into my hair while my hands tighten around her, holding on as though I can keep her here through stubborn determination.
Every breath catches and tangles together until I can’t tell where hers ends and mine begins.
She expertly pushes her core harder against my erect cock, grinding up and down in a way that wrenches a clipped hiss from my throat, “Fuck.”
A current seems to pass between us. The weight of the night morphing into something reckless, overwhelming all my senses. My hands flex against her ass instinctively as I carry her farther into the bedroom, every kiss turning rougher, hungrier, as if we are attempting to scrub the horrors still sticking to our skin.
My eyes notice the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror tucked into the corner of the bedroom, and something dark shifts inside me at the sight of it.
Without breaking the kiss, I carry her in that direction, stopping only when her back is inches from the glass.
A jagged breath leaves me as she rolls against me again, purposeful, winding every nerve in my body taut.
“My little reaper,” I growl against her mouth; my fingers widen around her legs while our reflections blur together behind her.
“Undress,” I grit out against her ear, the word low and commanding as I catch her earlobe with a punishing tug between my teeth before releasing it.
A fierce shudder wracks through her.
Then she descends slowly down my body until her boots hit the floor, her gaze never leaving mine. The look in her eyes has changed now, still haunted around the edges, but alive again.
The dim light spilling across the bedroom picks up on the blood saturated along her tactical gear, the black fabric molded to every hard-earned contour of her body.
My heart races at the sight of her standing there in the middle of all this destruction, looking dangerous enough to ruin me completely.
“We don’t have long,” she offers, voice frayed by leftover adrenaline and something far warmer now. “We still have to call the cleanup crew.”
