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Twyla
Each breath was an exquisite struggle as Cedra pulled me back against her hard frame, fingers dipping into the soft curve of my waist.
Her scent was stronger now but her grip was gentle as she simply held me in her arms, her voice low in my ear.
“And what would you do if I asked you for exactly what I needed, ’mara?” she rasped, making me tremble and gasp in our quiet embrace.
I wanted to respond, I truly did, but I couldn’t get past the first word as her fingers toyed with the high neckline of my makeshift dress in agonizingly slow movements.
The buttons peeled away, baring my skin to the warm air, thick with her pheromones. Even as my skin tingled, waiting for her touch, she held back, breathing against my neck.
“I...”
As her lips pressed the softest whisper of a kiss to the base of my throat, my sentence trailed off, the words dissipating like dust caught in a stray breeze.
“What if...” Her voice was just a growl now.
Her fingers had breached the neckline of my shirt. “What if what I needed was you in my bed, offering your pretty little neck for my fangs and your lovely little pussy for my fingers?”
This time, I didn’t fight the whimper that rose in my throat. I simply couldn’t.
“Please...”
The word burst from my lips as she ran the pad of her thumb over my exposed neck.
“Please what, ’mara?” she breathed, each word landing on my skin in a little puff of air. “Please...stop?”
I didn’t dare breathe, distraught at the suggestion that she might withdraw her touch.
“Or please take you to bed?”
My chest tightened in a fraction of a second, breath shuddering out of my lungs. Gods, it was so unbearably hot in the small viewing room, the heat of her body suffusing mine and eclipsing all thought.
I wanted to shut my eyes and lean back into her, pliant and willing under her capable rough fingers. I wanted to feel her lips on mine, branding me as they had this morning. I wanted to feel her weight on me, fusing us in moments of pleasure...
I wanted all of her.
Before I could summon the will to say something, Cedra sighed against my temple. I felt something long and sharp brush against my skin and I knew her fangs had descended—her body was poised to sink into mine.
I couldn’t help tilting my head to the side a little, an invitation that bared my neck even more for her.
I knew from my rushed readings on Fanger lore this afternoon that this was commonly interpreted as a sign of submission. Scrolling through those pages had been eye-opening, but the act of tilting my head, exposing the line of my neck and watching Cedra’s lips part with desire was a thrill beyond anything I’d imagined.
Even in my submission, with eyes halfway closed and shallow breaths, I realized the subtle power I held over her. Without a word from her lips, I felt how keenly my body and my blood called to her Fanger nature.
Cedra growled, palming my throat in her wide, rough hand, caressing the sensitive skin. A flash of goose bumps rose across my arms.
“So tempting,” she murmured against my ear, tongue slicking against the sensitive inner shell. There was a low growl brewing in her chest, reverberating against my back, proof of her desire.
I reached for her, thinking to clasp our hands together, fingers intertwined as she fueled my need for her with each lick, each bite, each breath.
But in the next second, I was alone with nothing but the shadowy imprint of her body against mine.
I didn’t dare move, caught between hazy desire and a desperate scream for her to return to my side.
The rasps of her breath filled the room, and I wet my lips, wondering if I should plead with her to continue.
She’d backed away, standing as far apart as she could get, hands shoved deep in her work pants.
