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ChapterThirty-Six

CALEB

Blood. Rich, warm, heady. Everything I needed and always denied myself. Drinking straight from the vein always sent a rush of arousal through me, which is why it was an act I refused. Except for my moments of weakness.

She would always be my weakness.

Clarity returned to me in stages as her blood healed me, my broken body knitting back together with the precious life she was giving me.

Gabriel killed me more times than I could count. Each time more painful than the last, until I thought I’d go mad from it. Only then had Finbar said the debt had been paid, and Gabriel brought me back here to nurse my wounds in peace.

I never expectedherto come for me.

Sunday’s soft mewl of pleasure had my cock threatening to punch through my shorts. My lust for her was intense, but my hunger eclipsed all else.

“Caleb,” she whispered.

The sound of my name on her sweet lips had me pulling her body closer to mine so I could drink deeper. She was such a good girl when she wasn’t being naughty.

“It hurts.”

It hurts me too. Not being with you.

I’ll make us both feel better.

The taste of her on my tongue healed more than just my body. It eased the endless ache that being apart had caused.

Her pulse, which had beat sure and strong, weakened, giving her words new meaning. She pushed against me, struggling in my hold. “Caleb, stop.”

Those two words hit me like a whip’s lash. I tore myself away from her. The lack of my support sent her crumpling to the ground. She lifted her still bleeding wrist to the gaping wound at her throat, blood running steadily down her body. Hunger roared inside me as the scent of what I wanted most permeated the room. But it was the look on her face that knocked back the thirst. I’d hurt her.

Put her in danger.

I wore the evidence of my guilt as even more of the crimson dripped down my chin and chest.

In her eyes, I knew what she saw. Not the priest she loved, but a monster. But Sunday Fallon was loved by the monsters humans feared. And being what I was meant I could fix what I broke.

“A stor, come here to me. Let me heal you.”

Bless her foolish little heart, she didn’t even hesitate to obey. Her trust in me was unfounded. I’d done nothing to earn it and far more to prove myself unworthy.

I took her in my arms and lifted her, carrying her over to the bed. I rested her in my lap, selfishly needing to feel her body against mine. Slicing open a vein, I offered her my neck.

“Drink.”

Her mouth sealed around the wound, and the first pull was utter bliss. I sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the tidal wave of desire her lips on my flesh always released. It was all I could do not to free my cock and drive deep inside her here and now.

“That’s a good girl. Drink deep. I took too much. You were so good to me.”

I ran my hand down her hair and along her spine, loving the way we fit together. Like a puzzle that had finally found its missing piece.

The foreign feel of my heartbeat racing distracted me from the sensations she evoked. It was as if a drummer had taken up residence inside my head, and I could hear it as clearly as hers. Which was why I knew the very second their rhythms synced up, becoming one perfect melody.

“Take me into you, Sunday. Let me heal you and make you new.”

She moaned against me as she shifted positions until her knees were planted on either side of my hips, and I could feel the heat of her tight cunt pressing along the throbbing length of my cock.

“You’ll make a sinner out of me yet.”

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