Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

“Come on, honey,” he murmured. “You don’t really want to fight me. You want to fuck me.”


As soon as he said the words, she knew it was true. She wanted him, hard and fierce with none of the gentleness he had shown her the last time. She wanted to unleash the monster she knew was somewhere close beneath his surface, just as her own inner monster strained to be free.

She leapt for him. He stood his ground, and she slammed into his body, hard. It should have hurt, some sane part of her mind told her to stop, but she needed this. It seemed like a lifetime of frustration was pent up inside her, and the feel of his naked skin beneath her hands drove her wild. She clung to his shoulders, her nails digging deep into his satin skin, as her legs circled his waist.

They crashed to the floor, rolling as he tore her hands from his shoulders. He turned her with one fluid move so she lay on her belly, her face pressed into the roughness of the carpet, the long, hard length of him pinning her against the floor. She bucked and writhed beneath him, fighting to get free. His breath brushed over the back of her neck, his teeth grazed her skin, settling at the point where her shoulder met the column of her throat. For a minute, he nuzzled her there, then he bit down sharply. His teeth penetrated her skin, and she went still, her breath coming in short sharp pants.

Taking advantage of her momentary stillness, he raised his body, nudged her thighs apart with his hips, and pushed himself against her core. She thrust back against him to get some relief for the fire raging through her. He was fully erect, and she could feel him pressing into her through the layers of clothing that separated them.

“What, you don’t want to fight anymore?” He whispered the words against her skin, and the need to move roared through her once again. She flung herself backwards, taking him by surprise. He rolled off her, and she scrambled to her feet. He followed her up, straightening to his full height, towering over her. Real panic penetrated the thick fog of her brain. He took a step toward her. She breathed in the hot musky scent of him, feral and wild, and the panic washed away on a tidal wave of red-hot desire.

He backed her up until the cool concrete of the wall pressed against her. Another step and he pinned her between the wall and the rock hardness of his body. She writhed against him, and he pushed forward with his hips, his erection thrusting against the soft flesh of her belly.

He stared into her eyes. His were glowing, filled with a ravenous hunger. She needed him inside her any way she could get him, and she raised her head to bare her throat.

He chuckled, and her fury roared to life again. Twisting violently against him, she raked her claws down his back and lunged, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. The blood spurted hot into her mouth, and she swallowed. For a moment, he stilled, then his hands were in her hair, his fist tightening, wrenching her head back so she stared up into his face. She licked the blood from her lips as he bent his head and kissed her savagely, forcing her mouth open. His tongue pushed into her, but it wasn’t enough and she thrust her own into his and tasted her blood as her tongue raked over the razor sharp fangs. He sucked on it greedily, and a whimper of pain and pleasure trickled from her throat.

He backed away and she slid down the wall. Slipping his hands between them, he gripped the neck of her T-shirt and ripped it down the middle. Then his hands were on her bare breasts, his palms stroking, his fingers tugging at her nipples until she was almost mindless with desire.

Sliding his hands behind her, he cupped her bottom and lifted her against the hard length of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing her core against his erection, until the hot, wet heat of her arousal soaked through the constricting layers of clothing between them.

He carried her to the huge desk, placing her down almost gently. His hands went to her waist, unsnapped her jeans, slid the zipper down. She kicked off her shoes, lifted her hips from the desk, and he tugged her pants down her legs and tossed them on the floor.

He paused, stroking a thumb over her lower lip. “Are you in there?” he asked.

She nodded. The fire of the alcohol burned in her blood but she was back in her head.

“Good.”

He stepped back, peeled off his own pants and stood before her naked, his long hard shaft vertical against his belly. He was so beautiful her breath caught in her throat. She reached out and he came to her. Her fingers trailed through the black, silky hair of his belly, then wrapped around the length of him. His skin was soft and smooth over a steel hard core. She squeezed him hard; his head fell back, and he groaned.