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I am so fucking tired of everyone else being stronger than me.
“Who the hell are you?”
His grin is a little deranged, flashing fang. “You can call me Wolf.”
Wolf. The name tingles a memory, but I can’t quite grasp it. Not when I’m in immediate danger of getting my throat ripped out. He’s not one of my father’s, though. I know that much. Which means he’s a wildcard and I can’t anticipate what the hell he’s going to do.
Except bite me.
That’s all but guaranteed with the way he’s watching my pulse thrum beneath my skin. “Malachi will kill you.”
“Nah.” He laughs. “We’re old friends.” Wolf raises his voice. “Aren’t we, Malachi?”
“Wolf.” I didn’t see Malachi enter the room, but then I’ve been more than a little distracted. I turn my head as much as I’m able and find him standing a few feet away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as if he’s not witnessing a trespasser pinning me to the couch. “It’s been a long time.”
“Your choice. Not mine.” He transfers my wrists to one hand and turns to keep Malachi in his line of vision. “Imagine my surprise to find you’re accepting sacrifices from that jackal Cornelius again. Tsk, tsk, Malachi. No one likes a hypocrite.”
“Extenuating circumstances.” His gaze flicks to me. “You have something of mine.”
Wolf laughs again. The sound is downright sinful. It sounds like good chocolate tastes, decadent and a little bittersweet. “You’ve been alone too long, my friend. You’ve gotten greedy and forgotten how to be a good host.” He licks his lips. “I’m positively parched.”
Malachi hesitates for a long moment, and a traitorous hope whispers to life in my chest. Surely he won’t let this stranger bite me. Surely he can see how much I am not onboard with this idea. Surely…
“Help yourself.” He drops into the chair across from us. “Biting only.”
Wolf looks back at me, and the cruelty in his pale eyes matched only by the amusement lingering there. “Did you think he’d step in? Poor thing, you’ve really done a number on her, Malachi.”
“Wolf.” The warning in Malachi’s tone seems not to register.
Wolf runs a single finger down my neck. His eyes flick to mine, and his grin softens the tiniest bit. “Don’t worry, love. It’ll feel good.”
Which means he’s a bloodline vampire, too. I don’t care. “A chemical reaction. That doesn’t mean a single damn thing. I don’t want it.”
He contemplates me, pointedly ignoring the way Malachi tenses in the chair at the edge of our vision. He inhales and goes still. “Ah. Not a human at all, are you? Dhampir.” He settles down on top of me, using his body to keep me in place. He smells faintly spicy, like cloves and cinnamon or something similar. I hate that I don’t hate it.
Wolf nuzzles my throat, and then his voice is in my ear, so low I can barely hear him. “Look how quickly he gave you away. Doesn’t that make you angry? Do you see how still he sits? He doesn’t want me to bite you, and yet he’s not going to stop me. How does that make you feel?”
“Angry,” I bite out.
“Thought so.” His breath ghosts against the shell of my ear. “I’ll do what he didn’t. I’ll ask permission. Let me bite you.” He chuckles, low and decadent. “It’ll piss him off something fierce.”
He’s trying to manipulate me, but even knowing that, it’s working. I am furious at Malachi. Furious at myself for looking to him to be my savior when every other experience I’ve had with a vampire proves they can’t be trusted. I forgot, and the sting of that knowledge is what prompts me to do something I never would have otherwise. “Do it.”
“Wicked girl.” He doesn’t give me a chance to brace. He strikes, sinking his fangs into my throat. Instantly, pleasure pulses through me, heady and intense. Wolf’s grip on my wrists keeps me from reaching for him, which is just as well. It doesn’t stop me from arching against him and moaning. I’m angry enough that I don’t try to fight it.
Malachi wants to give me to this vampire like a host offering a selection of wine? Well, he can damn well watch it happen.
I expect Wolf to pull something shady, but even as his cock hardens against me, he keeps his hands exactly where they started; one around my wrists and another braced next to my hip. The only move he makes is to stroke his thumb along the exposed skin at my side where my shirt has slid up during my struggle. It feels like he’s touching me somewhere else. Or maybe that’s the bite doing all the work for him, each pull as if he has his mouth all over my pussy.
I moan again. Distantly, I hear something crack, but I’m too invested in Wolf’s bite to try to look. He presses a little more firmly between my thighs. Not quite a stroke, but it doesn’t matter because it’s enough to send me hurtling into orgasm. I come hard, panting out each breath. Distantly, I’m aware of him slipping his fangs from me, and a little zing at my neck I can’t identify. Then his tongue is there, cleaning the last of my blood from my skin.
