Page 143 of Plug and Drain

And rough. He was rougher than he’d ever been without it being too much as if he sensed her limits. There was a savage desperation to the way he took her, and she welcomed it.

More.

She was prepared to let him claim her all night, if he wanted to. Her wolf pheromones were thick in the air, permeating her senses. She longed to please him, to rise to the challenge of every thrust and take his seed the way she knew he wanted her to.

Most of all, she wanted to help ease the darkness that filled his heart and chase his demons away until they were no more than a distant echo—just as he was doing for her.

Chapter 35

The Kiss

Arken

It was their first kiss.

Arken was still reeling from that fact. He was on top of Susie, pressing her into the bed, groaning as he thrust into her, first slowly, then faster, each plunge more desperate than the last. Taking her as if his life depended on making love to her. She was his salvation, if only he could lose himself in her.

But he wasn’t ready to let go, to spill himself inside of her. He wanted to drag this torturous pleasure out for as long as possible.

And to kiss her.

He stopped his frenzied love making several times so he could kiss her, deeply and passionately. He was captivated by the feel of her yearning lips seeking his.

That first kiss had been everything he’d imagined it would be. Her sweet taste, her eager mouth, her warmth as she pressed herself closer as though she found comfort and safety with him.

Arken was completely enthralled by the way she kissed him back. He explored her mouth, drowning in her.

But no matter how perfect this felt, his body flush with Susie’s as she clung to his shoulders, Arken could not ignore the dread creeping in.

For him, their first kiss was laced with his fear.

Susie had demanded that he kiss her, and he’d been powerless to refuse her. In the seconds before their lips met, the air had hummed between them. The moment was full of possibility, and the buzzing noise grew deafening as a thrilling sensation rushed through him.

He hadn’t come to her room to kiss her, even though he’d wanted to kiss her since that very first night that she’d traded places with Molly. Her bravery and selflessness had caught his heart right there.

Instead, he’d come here to warn her to stay away from him. Now that Henrikk had noticed his affection towards Susie, she was someone the King could use against him.

Fear invaded his mind.

Henrikk was an expert strategist, able to manipulate his servants like chess pieces. But he was also callous, and prone to boredom. Sometimes, this overrode his logic, and he was not above torture, even against his more loyal subjects. With no foreign armies to keep him occupied, the kingdoms had enjoyed years of peace under his rule—an unintentional side effect of Henrikk’s desire to control everything and everyone.

It had been a long time since Henrikk had paid attention to Arken. Long enough that Arken had stopped glancing nervously at the wardrobe in his office as he sat at his desk.

Henrikk’s brief interaction with Susie earlier today had frightened him to the core, digging up old memories of cold dungeon floors and the sounds of people sobbing.

Arken had failed to protect the ones he loved. His friends. His brothers. Clara.

His marriage to Clara had been arranged, but they’d grown to respect each other, and something like love had begun to form. Like Susie, Clara had had a strong moral compass, and it was one of the reasons Arken had taken such a strong stance against Henrikk and his extremist supporters.

It was why Arken’s three brothers had died—fighting to defend King Dmitri. It was why Henrikk had taken such a special interest in Arken and Clara. He’d seemed genuinely interested in why Arken, a pure-blooded vampire from an ancient household, would sympathise with humans and wolves.

Despite the ongoing torture and psychological manipulation Henrikk had exerted, Arken’s resolve had not wavered. Not until Clara had tragically died under Henrikk’s care.

The loss had left Arken untethered, helpless and caught up in a whirling hurricane, where the wind roared in his ears and debris scratched his face and none of it seemed to matter, because he was alone. When his grief had settled, and Nathaniel had found him standing on the tower roof, contemplating the jump below, he’d had a brief window of opportunity to end everything.

Nathaniel hadn’t let him. And the last of Arken’s resolve had petered out.

There had been nothing left but to accept his new reality, and his position as Henrikk’s man.