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The only other time we had sex, he was distant for the whole experience. He practically orchestrated it, overseeing things to ensure my power awoke and I broke the blood ward. Even when he was fucking my mouth, he was restrained and in control. There’s none of that control now.

He covers me with his body, wrapping his claws around my wrists. “I can’t stop.”

“Don’t.” I lift my hips, angling to take his cock again. He shoves into me, and we release twin shaky breaths. This isn’t enough, though. I knew it wouldn’t be upon the first stroke. I tilt my head to the side. “Bite me.”

“Mina.” Upon his lips, my name sounds like a benediction and a curse, all wrapped up into one. He bites me with the speed of a striking cobra. Too deep. I can tell that from the moment his teeth sink into my skin. They’re larger than normal, sharper. A predator’s teeth meant for ripping and tearing.

Fuck.

This is bad.

The sharp spike of fear is instantly swallowed by the pleasure of his bite. I orgasm hard, wrapping my legs around his waist in an attempt to get him closer, deeper. To make this wave last forever. He keeps fucking me in a borderline frenzy, his mouth latched onto my neck. My blood is flowing freely, too freely, but I can’t quite bring myself to care. Not when he’s so close.

His strokes lose their steady rhythm and he grinds into me as he comes. I hear shouts in the distance, but I don’t really care about that, either.

At least I don’t until Rylan lifts his head and snarls. The sound is beastly and far too deep to have come from his throat. In fact, he feels bigger all around right now, as if he’s put mass onto his muscled frame while I wasn’t paying attention.

He pumps into me almost leisurely, but his eyes—now fully silver—are on something outside of the bed. I start to turn my head, but stop when pain flares to life with a strength that makes me gasp.

That brings Rylan’s gaze back to me. His eyes drop to my neck and he licks his lips. Blood covers the lower half of his face. It covers everything. Him. Me. The bed. Too much blood, even for me.

“Rylan!” That’s Malachi’s bellow. Close enough to rattle my bones.

Rylan gives himself a shake. He’s moving strangely, as if not quite at home in his body. Slowly, so so slowly, he releases one of my wrists and uses a claw to cut his neck. His blood joins mine on his skin, but I can’t quite make my body obey my command to lift my head and drink.

Something akin to true fear flashes over his face. “Fuck.”

“Feed her, you idiot!” That’s Wolf. He sounds almost…worried.

Rylan carefully slides his hand under my head, his claws tangling in my hair, and lifts me as he lowers himself down. My lips touch his neck and fire lashes my tongue. Another swallow and I’m able to latch onto him. Not as well as he could with his superior teeth, but enough that I can drink freely from him. Each mouthful of blood chases away the cobwebs that had sprouted in my head. I swear I can actually feel my body knitting itself back together, muscle and veins and skin.

Gods, he really fucked me up.

He’s already hard inside me again, and he starts to withdraw, but I dig my heels into the small of his back. I manage to lift my head enough to say, “Just a little more.”

It might be my imagination, but Rylan makes a sound that’s filled with relief. “Consider it done.” His grip on my head goes gentle and he moves against me, in me, leisurely as I drink from him.

This time, when my orgasm comes, it’s softer and nearly sweet and Rylan follows me over the edge immediately. He eases out of me, but doesn’t move away entirely. I’m shaking. Or maybe he’s shaking. I can’t tell.

Malachi and Wolf descend on us. Malachi yanks Rylan off me, his big hand wrapped around the other vampire’s throat and murder on his face. I struggle to sit up, but Wolf is there, climbing behind me and pulling me between his legs to rest against his chest. He has a knife in one hand and presses the blade to his forearm with the other. “You need more.”

“Malachi.” My voice is hoarse. I’m not sure if it’s from fucking or damage done by Rylan’s bite, and I don’t care. “Get your hands off him.”

“He almost killed you.”

“Let him go.” My words ring with a foreign power, making my tongue feel like it’s sparking. It surges out from me in an arrow aimed right at Malachi.

He drops his hand as if burned. Rylan staggers back a step and slumps against the wall. He looks like shit. I feel like shit. Tomorrow, I’ll be worried about how close we got to the point of no return. I’ll torment myself with how to balance the bond so it doesn’t happen again. I’ll do a lot of things. Tomorrow. “Just leave.”

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