“I can live with it.” He leans back a little. “Can you?”
I shouldn’t. No matter how much I desire this vampire, the fact remains that he’s got a boatload of baggage when it comes to the seraphim. He didn’t choose this bond, and he resents it more than the other two combined. Throwing a child into the mix is a recipe for disaster.
And yet.
And yet I can’t stop myself from sliding my hands down his stomach to the front of his slacks. “We shouldn’t.”
His hands brush my hips and then my shorts and panties fall down my legs in ragged tatters. I jolt and then whimper at the sight of his claws. “Why didn’t your claws come out that first time?”
“I didn’t lose control then.”
My hands shake as I undo his slacks and pull out his cock. “Why are you losing control, Rylan?” I can’t tell if I’m trying to taunt him or legitimately asking the question.
“You make me crazed.” He digs his hands into my hair and then his mouth is on mine. It’s no less vicious a kiss than it was last time, with the bond riding us so hard. The knowledge thrills me even as I got up onto my tiptoes to press closer to him. Knowing that this untamed version of Rylan lurks beneath his icy exterior drives me wild.
He hooks my thighs, his claws dragging across my skin, and lifts me onto the counter. “Can’t bite you,” he mutters. I barely have time to brace before he goes to his knees and covers my pussy with his mouth. He’s just as unrestrained in this as he was in the kiss. I slam back against cabinets with a moan.
Rylan spears my pussy with his tongue and I freeze at the feeling of it…growing. I stare down at him. “Rylan,” I moan.
He fucks me with his tongue, a wicked look in his silver eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s getting off on it nearly as hard as I am. The sheer wickedness of knowing that he’s shifting parts of his body while inside me has me sinking my hands into his hair as best I can and lifting my hips to fuck his tongue. “Please.”
He moves up to my clit, working me in expert strokes. My toes curl and heat licks through me. I’m dancing on the edge of a truly spectacular orgasm when he shoves to his feet and presses his cock to my entrance. I can’t be sure, but I think he might be bigger than last time. His claws dig into the counter as he wedges himself into me in short strokes.
“More.” I grab his wrists and he lets me pry his hands off the counter and put them on my hips. “I like your marks on me.”
Rylan freezes. A shudder works its way through his body and, when he speaks, he sounds like an entirely different person. “Fuck.”
He jerks me forward, impaling me on his cock, and then his arms are around me. Pain sparks on my ass and a twin prick on the back of my neck. He’s holding me entirely off the counter as he drives into me. Deeper and deeper, until it’s almost too much and yet not enough.
My earlier near-orgasm roars up and sweeps me under. I cling to him as I come, loving the pain as much as I love the pleasure. He thrusts into me almost brutally, only his hold on the back of my neck keeping my head from bashing against the cabinets. “More.”
“Take it,” I gasp.
And then he’s kissing me, claiming my mouth with his tongue the same way his cock is claiming my pussy. He growls against my lips. It’s the only warning I get before he orgasms, pumping me full of his come. I swear I can actually feel it inside me, but it must be my imagination.
Rylan nips my bottom lip and shifts to the side to drag his tongue up the side of my neck. Licking the blood from my skin. There’s a tiny spark and I know he’s healing me with his nicked tongue. I shiver. The urge rises to say something, but I don’t know what words to bring forth that won’t send us hurtling back into icy anger.
I hold perfectly still as he leans back. He looks down our bodies and watches his cock ease out of me, his expression strange. “Let’s get you some clothes.”
So we’re just…not going to talk about it?
Works for me.
“I didn’t have a chance to bring anything.” I hop off the counter, and my legs go a little funny.
“I know.” He grabs my elbow. Rylan doesn’t sweep me into his arms the way Malachi would in this situation. He doesn’t make any sly comments like Wolf would. He simply waits for me to find my legs and releases me.
I follow him in the opposite direction Malachi and Wolf went, to the back of the house where the bedrooms apparently are. Rylan pulls out a dress from one of the closets and passes it to me. It’s not necessarily something I would have chosen for myself—a floral sundress that reminds me entirely too much of the one I wore that first night I walked into Malachi’s home, soaked to the bone and filled to the brim with rage and fear. So much has changed since then, and yet so little at the same time. It’s not a comfortable realization.
I waste no time pulling off my shirt and tugging the sundress on. It fits perfectly, which just goes further to confirm my suspicion that one of them has been going ahead of us and supplying these safe houses. Every one we’ve ended up in has clothing that at least mostly fits us as well as food for me.
It’s only when I’m buttoning up the front of it that I realize Rylan is still watching me. “What?”
“Nothing.” He doesn’t turn away, though. “I keep waiting for this attraction to wear off, but it only seems to be getting stronger. It’s damned inconvenient.”
I laugh. It’s the only proper response to that understatement of the century. I run my fingers through my hair. I don’t think he got any blood on it. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t like you most of the time, but I want you, too.”
“Strangely enough, it does.” He gives me one of those razor-thin smiles. “Let’s check on the others.”