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“Drake!” My yell had the humans around us jumping in their seats. It was hard to keep whispering when I was ready to throat punch a half demon. Then an idea struck me, and I took off, running through the room and to the kitchens. I could hear footsteps thundering behind me but because the obstacles in the way and my ability to dodge them—thanks to years on the street running from the law—I got through the hall and into a storage room before he caught me.
“Harlow.” My name was a feral growl on his lips, but I smirked at how his cock was pushing against his jeans.
“Fuck me, Drake,” I ordered him, stripping out of my clothes, bending over, and spreading my legs. “Don’t hold back. Feed as you fuck me.”
There was no foreplay as he shed his clothes and pushed against me. He scraped his teeth over my skin and dug his fingers into my flesh as he positioned me to his liking, bending me farther over so my face was flush against a stack of boxes.
My cunt was already wet for him, between his demon looks and angry touches, I was ready. Which was for the best since he plunged into me in one thrust. I gasped, the stretch and sting mixing with the brush of his piercings, rendering me breathless.
Each stroke was pain and pleasure at war. Harsh slams of his hips mixed with the delicious teasing of his studs.
As he fucked me, I let my anger out. Not saying the words but letting my mind focus on them until he was losing even more control behind me. I knew I’d be sore, bruised, but I didn’t care. He needed this to survive, and I would not let him suffer. We all had our roles in this battle and since mine was on hold, the least I could do was feed my man.
“Stop,” he rumbled. His voice was so deep it rumbled through me, that mixed with his studs hitting the right place had me screaming against the orgasm that stole my breath and sanity, vision blurring and shadows dancing around us. I was playing with my emotions too much for someone on half their medication.
“No,” I bit out, anger rising yet again at his stubbornness. “Just fucking take it, you asshole. Fuck me like you mean it and feed. Then we can walk out there, eat our lunch, and you can tell me where the fuck you’ve been.”
His answer was another roar, hand digging painfully into my side as he fucked me so hard I had to cling onto the boxes for dear life, knowing damn well anyone walking by would hear us.
“You don’t make the demands,” he growled. “This is not how we’re going to do things. Forcing me to feed is fucked up.”
“Then go feed on a patient next time,” I yelled back. “Or suck it up and take it from me, the one who is willingly giving it to you.”
I’d let my anger build and seep into the air, my demon drinking it in until he lost all control, slamming home one last time before coming. He didn’t wait for us to catch our breath before pulling out of me and going to the other side of the room.
My body ached, every movement followed with a sharp pang. Not pushing him for now, I grabbed his boxers, cleaned myself up, and got dressed.
He was standing, hands braced on the wall, and breathing heavily. Guilt nagged at me, afraid I’d pushed him too far, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I would not let him unravel slowly, spiraling alone in this chaos, not when he has me.
“Don’t. Do. That. Again.” His words were still rough, but he didn’t flinch away as I put a hand on his back. I wrapped my arms around his middle and laid my head on his back. He trembled under me as he fought against his own shit, but I didn’t let go.
Finally he calmed and I felt his body relax enough that I let go.
“I’m sorry I pushed you. But this is me showing you I refuse for you to pull away from us. You’re not sacrificing yourself for me, for us,” I argued.
When he turned around, he was back to human and the anger had drained from his eyes.
“You feel better, don’t you?”
He huffed and grabbed his clothes, sans boxers, changing into them before answering.
“Yes, but that’s not the fucking point, Harlow,” he muttered.
“Well, too fucking bad,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not sorry.”
Not giving a fuck if he was covered or not, I pulled open the door. I froze at the sight of a demon in front of me, hands clamped around a man’s throat. I acted on instinct, throwing myself on his back as I called out to Drake. He threw me off and instead of hitting the wall, I hit a gargoyle, Stravos grunting as he caught me and placed me on my feet.
They moved so fast, the demon running off before Drake could kill him but the man was alive.
“I think we just intervened in another sacrifice,” I said as I took in the two men standing before us. “He could be your twin, Drake.”
ChapterSeven
Harlow
Tuesday Afternoon
Dark Haven Library
