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I stifled a groan. You have no idea, little girl.
I reminded myself that drinking from Eden wasn’t an option right now. That it could harm both her and my spawn.
Just a taste, the hunger crooned.
I drew a slow breath, then forced myself to lift my head and release her. “Go,” I said gruffly.
She nodded and slipped out of the shower.
I rested my forehead on the slate tiles.
What the fuck, Talon?
I hadn’t come that close to losing myself to the blood-hunger since the first months after I’d been turned.
I dialed the water temperature to ice-cold—anything to cool myself—and soaped up.
When I reentered the bedroom, a black knit dress was laid out on the bed along with a half-slip, and Eden was perched on a chair in a lacy black bra and panties, pulling on a pair of sheer thigh-highs. My dick twitched, but I moved past her to my walk-in closet for a suit and a dress shirt.
Back in the bedroom, Eden was still perched on the chair. As I buttoned my shirt, she rolled up the second stocking and pulled it over her toes, unrolling it to her ankle and then up her long, lean leg.
My fingers stilled on my shirt buttons as she pulled the sheer material over the strong muscles of her calf and continued up to her thigh. Watching Eden dress was almost as good as watching her undress—and it reminded me of how much I’d missed her.
I turned away.
She fooled you once. Who’s to say she won’t do it again?
Her disloyalty crouched between us like a dark, ragged thing. I’d accepted her apology, but we could never go back to how we’d been.
In claiming Eden as my exclusive thrall, I’d elevated her status. She’d traveled with us, received special treatment—extra freedom, a larger suite in the thralls’ quarters, bonuses in the form of jewelry and cash.
The syndicate had known what that meant. She was a weakness, one I reluctantly owned because the alternative—knowing other vampires were fucking and feeding from Eden—simply wasn’t tolerable.
And in return, she’d spied on the syndicate and run from me, a sickening repeat of all the times my mom and my loser of a father had let me down.
I could forgive Eden. But I wasn’t sure if I’d ever trust her again.
She put on the half-slip and shimmied into the black dress. The form-fitting knit made it clear she was round with my spawn. That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
She tried and failed to reach the zipper. She cast me a look over her shoulder. “I can’t—”
I was already crossing to her. Her nape was damp from the shower. She smelled like my soap and her own unique essence.
My dick pressed against my dress pants. I gritted my teeth and took hold of the dress’s pull-tab. My fingers brushed her bare neck and she gave a small shiver.
Something crawled through my chest. A dark, primal yearning.
Mark her.
Claim her.
Eden licked her lips. “Something wrong?”
I inhaled, told myself it was simply the blood-hunger. I needed to feed, that was all.
“No,” I lied and zipped her up. Instead of releasing her, I cupped her neck, tipping her head back so I could speak into her ear. “If you have to grovel, you’ll fucking do it. Got it? I can only protect you so far.”
Her chest jerked in a jagged breath. “Yes.”
