Page 40 of Kiss Kiss Fang Fang

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“So where does that leave us?”

“Outnumbered and on the wrong side of a centuries old debate.”

“How did you used to contact this order place?”

“Through agents who have either fled, changed sides, or been killed while I was away.”

“No wonder you have such a grumpy streak. But what are you going to do? I mean, after the bond is gone and you’re free to do your own thing?”

“I’m going to do what I’ve always done. Enforce The Pact, whether or not I have The Order behind me. I’ll make sure I do what I can.”

“That sounds like suicide.”

“I’m not easy to kill.”

Cara crossed her arms. “I don’t want to think about people trying to kill you.”

I got up and moved to stand in front of her. I took her hands in mine, watching as she raised her eyes to meet mine. “That’s because you’re kinder to me than you should be.”

“You’re a good person, Lucian. I don’t know why you don’t see that.”

“Because nobody who lives as long as I have can still be a good person.”

“You’re good enough for me,” she said, chewing her lip. Cara’s small hand took my tie and tugged me toward her.

I could have resisted the pull. I could’ve fought it easily, but I let myself be brought down toward those waiting lips—toward her closed eyes and upturned face.

And I kissed her.

Warmth exploded through me. It woke a vivid memory of the sun on my skin as a youth before I’d been turned, of closing my eyes and looking up toward a beaming ball of light until I felt the heat sinking through every pore.

My body was on fire.

Alive.

Her lips were soft pillows of heat, sharing their wetness with mine as I cupped her cheek and let my fingers circle around the back of her head and in her hair.

My other hand took the side of her thigh and tugged her closer, pressing our lower bodies together in a delicious collision of sensitive flesh against sensitive flesh.

I wanted to devour her. To take her now and never let her go.

I could feel my fangs elongating, but she showed no sign of breaking away from the kiss, even though she surely must’ve felt them. I could feel the temptation to be carried away with passion. Letting the moment proceed from inevitability to inevitability would’ve been as easy as breathing. But I knew what would happen.

We were still bonded.

If I slept with her, I’d turn her.

I’d be dooming her.

So I started to pry myself away from her, even as her hands cupped my face and her thighs wrapped around my waist, tugging me into the heat of her panties and her pushed-up skirt.

I put a hand on her shoulder, removing myself from the embrace with the wet release of our lips. She leaned forward toward me, eyes beseeching, and hand still outstretched.

“We can’t,” I breathed.

“Why? Let me be like you. It doesn’t have to be over when the bond ends. We could be together. You wouldn’t have to be so alone all the time, I could—”

“No,” I said. “You don’t understand what you’re volunteering for. You could never understand. Come. We need to rest for tomorrow.”

I rushed upstairs, ignoring the maddening tug of the bond urging me to stay closer to her. I only had to endure it for a few moments, because Cara quickly followed after me.

I took my place on the floor and crossed my arms over my chest, lying down in my place as I always did. I heard her slip into the blankets of her bed, still breathing heavily. I could smell her arousal, and it was intoxicating enough that I was almost compelled to get back up and forsake everything I believed in just to feel the relief of plunging myself into her. Of having her. Fucking her.

But I closed my hands into fists and clenched my jaw until mortal teeth would’ve cracked. I was going to stay here, and I was not going to drag her down to my hell because I was selfish and lacked the self-control to do what was necessary.

“Lucian, I—”

“Sleep, Cara,” I said. “We both need to sleep.”

21

Lucian

Cara had on a simple outfit of a white shirt and tight-fitting, stretchy black pants. She was sitting in one of the antique chairs in my home in front of a mirror. It was nightfall, and Seraphine was prowling behind the chair, her bare feet padding on the thick red rugs splayed across the living room.

Cara let out a huge yawn, then shook her head, blinking and opening her eyes a little wider as if trying to wake herself up. “Okay. So the goal here is to make me look more like a vampire, right?”

“Somehow,” Seraphina said. She was studying Cara like an artist might look at a solid block of stone.


Tags: Penelope Bloom Paranormal