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“Mike…” he mimicked my tone, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. I snarled. It was involuntary. Did he think this was a game? I still wasn’t sure if he fully understood the powers he was dealing with. Could he ever really understand? We could talk and talk and go over the same ground a thousand times, and hell, he didn’t even seem bothered now if my eyes flashed to yellow while we fucked.
But the guilt was there, lingering beneath the surface. Tate’s face was etched in my mind and reminded me of all I had done and had the potential to do again. Jacob wasn’t like Tate, I knew that, but it was near impossible to completely wipe the slate clean of all sense of responsibility when you had carried it for so long.
I ran my fingers through Jacob’s hair and gripped it, pulling his face from my neck when he moaned. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Mike, I want you, and I want to be with you. I think we should finish this.”
I knew the yellow had crossed over my eyes, and Jacob didn’t even flinch, instead leaning forward to playfully bite my bottom lip. I snarled again. “What makes you so sure you can handle it?”
“I spoke to Charlotte.”
“You didwhat?”
Why did that make me so angry? He had every right to talk to Charlotte. In fact, it made sense. She’d been where he was, and she had even less time to become accustomed to the truth of Frank’s and my nature before it was thrown ruthlessly in her face, and she’d had no choice. Yet she still loved Frank, and they still bonded. I wanted what they had. I ached for it.
And Jacob wanted it with me.
Reckless was not me. I became more calculated as I got older, never taking a chance, always assessing everything. But I had been assessing this for months, so what more could come of it? Would time change how I felt about Jacob? No, I knew that to my very core. He understood the risks. He may be human, but he was capable of making his own choices.
And the fact that he chose me flared a possessiveness through me that presented itself in a growl. Jacob shuddered as I let my eyes turn into their natural yellow, with cat-like slits for irises. Dragging a nail across my skin, I cut into my chest.
“Do you want this?” I asked, my voice deep and ethereal.
Jacob’s eyes never left mine. “Yes.”
He had already tasted my blood once, accidental or not, and it had started the bond. Once more, he would be mine, and I would be his. Between demons, a bond required a two-way drinking of blood, but for humans, they only had to drink ours. If I were to taste Jacob’s blood, my mind would be flooded with his worst and most traumatic memories, the parts of him that churned emotional turmoil within. Unfortunately, it was a side effect of being a demon and a trick we used to find out the secrets people wouldn’t tell us in Hell so as to more effectively torture them.
Deepening the cut, I then increased my grip on Jacob’s hair, his breaths coming in heavy gasps. His gaze was flickering between my eyes and my hand.
“Do it,” I whispered because part of me believed he wouldn’t, part of me still feared that none of this was real, that his love was fake and only on the surface. “If you want me, do it.”
There was no hesitation, and I think that’s when something in me snapped. My grip on his hair relaxed long enough for him to lower to my chest of his own accord, although my fingers flexed and released in his blond locks. The second his parted lips touched my chest, and his tongue darted out, taking the first droplet of my blood within him, I gripped his head and pushed.
“Take it,” I snarled out, holding his mouth against my chest with one hand while undoing his pants with the other. With a bit of maneuvering, I managed to get them off one of his legs so I had access to his cock—he had gone commando, as always. He whimpered when I gripped him, working his cock as he drank my blood. My head spun as he swallowed and took another mouthful, the suction of his lips against my pectoral almost became too much.
I managed to keep myself in control just enough to know that I needed him to stop.
Using his hair, I pulled him from my chest, letting the wound flow freely—that would take care of itself—and moaned as Jacob licked a remaining droplet of blood from his lips.
“Fuck,”I murmured, keeping hold of his hair because I knew what was next.
He was human, and his body would fight the intrusion of my blood. He started shaking, and I kept my grip on his hair, shifting my other hand to his thigh. When he opened his eyes, they were a brilliant yellow, and for the briefest second, I recoiled in shock because my Jacob was no longer simply human, he was bonded to a demon.
Then the possessiveness flared again.
Not just any demon—me.
He was bonded tome.
He wasmine.
I growled, and Jacob smirked, closing his eyes until the shuddering reduced. “Control yourself,” I warned, and he frowned. When he opened his eyes, they were still yellow, though faded, and I could see his natural color through them. It took him a few minutes, taking time to close his eyes and focus each attempt until he finally opened his eyes and was the man I fell in love with.
“It feels…” Jacob lifted his hands to my shoulders, gripped and flexed, and paused when another growl rumbled through my throat at his touch. “I can’t describe it.”
“Try.”
“Like my blood is thicker… like my heart has to work harder, but it’s not uncomfortable. My eyes, though…” He closed his eyes again, tentatively touching his eyelids as though expecting to find something different than before, although he knew that even bonded humans didn’t take on demon physical traits beyond the eye color. “My eyes are sensitive, and everything is clearer, crisper. I can feel my fucking eyelids on my eyes. It’s so bizarre.”
