Captured and enslaved young, his dam had only remembered a limited number of runes to teach her son. That talisman had been the sole possession she’d had on her, yet even she couldn’t read it.
Unless Orion could help him decipher the markings, Rune would never know—because his mother’s breed of demon had gone extinct, their lore lost.
All Orion had told him was that the answer lay in Gaia.
The voyeur pocketed the talisman again. “I might consider returning it if you answer some of my questions.”
His ire was at the ready. “You do not make the rules.”
“I do if you want your ‘trinket’ back.” She gave him a sardonic wink.
Her defiance was so unfamiliar, he felt his cock stirring. “Brazen little thing, aren’t you?”
“Brazen is when you can’t back it up.”
She couldn’t know he was a Møriør, but she should still fear him as a much larger male. He stood well over a foot taller than she, and easily had a hundred and fifty pounds over her. “You dig your own grave. Unless . . .” His gaze fell to her lips. “Perhaps your mouth can yet convince me not to whip that pert ass of yours raw.”
She laughed at him.
He leaned forward, feeling the overwhelming need to shut her up—with his mouth over hers. Kiss her quiet.
How quiet would she be screaming in agony? Frustration simmered.
In a drawling voice, she said, “I suppose retreating is another choice for you. Turn around and walk away. Perhaps the sight of your ass can yet convince me not to whip it raw.”
He stalked closer. “Are you a mad one then?” Older immortals often fell prey to insanity.
“Sure.” Again, she seemed amused. “Why not?”
“You’re going to give me my belonging.” He bared his fangs at her. “Or I will make you suffer.”
“Suffer? Oh, sport”—she rolled her neck to pop a crick—“I love a good fight.”
“Such defiance against a male—”
She swung a fist at his face.
He caught it effortlessly, but hadn’t expected another immediate hit. She punched him in the stomach with surprising force.
When he squeezed her fist in his grip, she grabbed his arm with her free hand. Her black nails had lengthened and sharpened into claws. Was she a demoness? A succubus?
She sank her claws into his arm. She was strong for a female. Still, nothing he couldn’t shake off.
“Careful, girl. If you break my skin, you’ll draw my dirty blood.” Baneblood. Old angers seethed. He shoved her against the wall, knocking the breath from her lungs.
He took the opportunity to reclaim the talisman from her pocket, his hand a blur as it dipped.
Shock registered on her face. “You’re fast too!”
“Fast as the fey. You’re no match for me.”
She thrashed against his hold. “No?” Her head shot forward, her forehead connecting with his.
“The hells!” That hit should have cracked her skull like an egg. He felt blood—from an actual injury—trickling down his forehead. How long had it been since someone had landed a blow?
“You’ve loosed my poison, wench. Playtime is over.”
Her gaze locked on the blood. “Look at it flowing.” She began to pant, her breasts pressing against his chest. He could feel her nipples stiffening into tight points.
He swiped a sleeve over his face, clearing away the blood. It wasn’t poisonous to the touch—wouldn’t harm her unless it got into her system—but he’d take no chances.
She muttered, “Rules don’t apply. . . .”
“What rules?” he absently asked. Her irises had wavered in color from hazel to onyx—as black as night. “Damn you, tell me what you are.” He stared down at her finely boned face, and again that unfamiliar need to kiss rioted inside him.
“I’m thirsty.” She clambered against him.
Pain in his neck. Fangs? Vampire! “The FUCK are you doing?” He fisted her hair to fling her away. “You want to die—”
She sucked at her bite.
Pleasure seared him like a lightning bolt, wrenching a yell from his lungs. “AHHHHH!” His cock shot harder, twitching to come. “Ah, gods!” A vampire was feeding from him—from him—and it was unimaginable. “You drink your death.”
“Ummm.” Her ruby lips kissed his flesh. When her tongue darted for more of his taste, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Never . . . so much . . . pleasure . . .
Nigh mindless, he let her sink her claws into him, let her coil her limbs around him as she made him her prey. Poison should’ve hit her. Somehow she wasn’t weakening; her body grew stronger and stronger, her moans louder.
She rocked her hips against his torso, grinding her sex. The scent of her arousal filled his senses.
Figure the rest out later. He used his grip on her hair to shove her against his neck. “Then suck me like you mean it, you little bitch.”
She did, piercing him deeper, moaning into his flesh.
With her every draw, he grew more light-headed. Hold out. His balls tightened, his breaths heaving. Hold out! “You’re going to make me come like this!” Inside her . . . need inside her. She’ll be so wet.
He tore open his weapon belt. He struggled to remember power dynamics and control—only managed to attack his fly. Need inside!
He yelled when his engorged cock sprang free. Trews at his thighs, he bucked his hips, sending his shaft between their bodies. He’d threaded it into her lace panties. He felt her soft, bare mons against his rod—just as she gave a wanton suck.