Page 57 of Blood Red Rage

“Ple…pleaseee.” She gasps as I slide one finger deep into her very core.

“Fuck baby, you are driving me crazy. Your scent…” the words were lost as Bryn thrust her hips into my hand. Fuck…fuck, I can’t hold back anymore. Lifting up on my haunches I slip my hands under her ass, lifting her up until her legs slide around my hips and with one swipe I am plunging deep into her.

“Ohhh” she gasps as I fill her very depths. “so…biiig” she cries as I pull out slightly and then thrust again, deep, hard, all consuming.

“You so beautiful baby,” I told her, but she told me to shut up as she runs her nails down my arms. The slight pain has me growling deep in my throat as I move faster, my head thrown back as I feel her tightening around me, the sound she makes when she explodes around me has be grunting as my body detonates with an explosive release that has my whole-body vibrating.

The bond flared bright enough to blind me, and when I finally buried my face in her hair afterward, breath rough, body still vibrating with after math, she curled into my chest like she’d always belonged there.

I wrapped my arms around her and didn’t let go. My uncle was breathing on borrowed time but in this moment, with her warm and alive against me, all I cared about was this woman in my arms. She was mine, and I would burn the world before I ever let it take her from me.

“You’re mine,” I told her, but she grabbed my face and informed me, breathlessly, that I was apparently hers too. That stopped me, I stared down at her.

“What?”

Her expression turned suddenly uncertain. “You heard me.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“Your vampire hearing works perfectly well.”

“Bryn.”

She rolled her eyes, but her hands softened against my face. “You’re mine too.”

Something inside my chest cracked wide open, no one had ever claimed me. Feared me, yes. Followed me, fought beside me, loved me as a brother, but this was different, she was mine too.

I lowered my forehead to hers and closed my eyes. “You have no idea what you just did.”

Her fingers moved gently through my hair. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably.”

She laughed again, and I smiled against her mouth before kissing her. After that, time became meaningless as the night belonged to us. The war outside could wait, Ceasar could wait. Every enemy who wanted Dragic blood could wait because my mate was in my arms, alive and warm and choosing me despite having every reason to run screaming in the opposite direction.

And for now, the berserker inside me wasn't demanding blood. It was quiet satisfied by the only thing it had ever truly wanted. Her.

Chapter 11

For four days, my entire world had consisted of Viking, his arms, his mouth, his impossible body. Viking's complete and utter refusal to allow more than a few feet of space between us.

The women hadn't been exaggerating, not even slightly. My cycle had apparently flicked some primitive switch inside my already possessive vampire, and whatever restraint Viking normally possessed had packed a suitcase and left the country.

The days had blurred together into sleep, food that somehow appeared outside our door, showers, whispered conversations and the kind of all-consuming intimacy that left me wondering whether my bones had actually turned to liquid.

He had barely let me out of his arms and God help me, I'd loved it. There was something intoxicating about having all of that enormous, terrifying man focused entirely on me. The rest of the world had ceased to exist whenever the bedroom door closed.

Even now, hours after my cycle had finally ended and Viking had reluctantly left to deal with whatever mysterious "business" required all five Dragic brothers, my body still remembered him.

I stood beneath the shower longer than necessary, letting hot water roll over tired muscles while my mind betrayed me with flashes of the last few days.

That body...It was ridiculous, there was no other word for it. Hard muscle layered over an enormous frame, scars crossing places I hadn't noticed properly before, black tattoos covering his arms, shoulders, chest and back. Some were symbols, others looked like runes. There were pieces of history written into his skin that I hadn't begun to understand. He looked exactly like his name suggested.

A Viking dragged out of some ancient battlefield and dropped into the modern world. Except mine wore tracksuit bottoms and occasionally threatened kitchen appliances when they annoyed him.

I laughed quietly to myself. God. What had happened to my life?

Not long ago, my biggest concern had been whether a supplier was going to deliver thirty tonnes of steel reinforcement on time. Now I was living in a mansion with vampires, changelings and enough armed security to invade a small country, and somehow the strangest part was that it was beginning to feel normal.