Sin Undone

Grudgingly, Sin climbed between the front seats and ducked through the hatchlike door separating the cab from the box section of the ambulance. A dull red light illuminated the space, and the same Haven spell symbols from UG were scrawled on the walls, but other than that, it could have been a human ambulance.

Her leg throbbed as she worked her way down the narrow aisle between the bench seat and the stretcher, but that wound wasn’t nearly as bad as the pain spreading through her arm. She didn’t have to look to know a large gash had split her dermoire across her biceps. The pain had struck suddenly, but she’d borne it in silence, the way she always did. As an assassin, she never gave her victims the luxury of a scream, so she figured she didn’t deserve one any more than they did.

She didn’t deserve for the gash to be treated, either. She’d allow Con to mend her leg, but her arm was off limits. Con jerked down black rubber shades from rollers over each window. Every sliver of outside light was snuffed, obviously a necessity when transporting vamps and other light-sensitive demons during the day. “Take off your pants.”

“Wow. Not one for foreplay, are you?”

He turned to her with lethal grace despite the limitations of the cramped compartment. “I spend hours on foreplay,” he said, his voice a slow, sexy drawl. “What about you?” Heat flooded her face. Somehow, he knew the answer, knew she’d never engaged in foreplay in her life. For her, sex was fast food, not gourmet cuisine. Oh, she enjoyed it with the right partners, but the desire to linger in bed, taking pleasure in a male’s body, had been crushed out of her a long time ago. Now, sex was about staying alive. In the last thirty years especially, it had become routine, quick trysts with a couple of assassins from her den, with only the occasional roll in the hay with males like Con to shake things up.

And now that she was an assassin master, she rarely left the den except to go to Guild headquarters or the hospital, so her choices had been even more severely limited, mostly to Lycus. It would probably be that way for the rest of her life.

“Foreplay is overrated.” The gash in her arm screamed with pain as she shed her pants and hopped up on the stretcher. She left her thigh and ankle holsters in place, though, because her weapons weren’t going anywhere.

“Then you’re not doing it right.” Con snapped on some surgical gloves, somehow making the sound and the action erotic. “You’ve had shitty lovers.”

“You were one of my lovers,” she pointed out, but he didn’t take the bait. “Once. And there is something to be said for a hard, fast fuck.” His voice became a mesmerizing purr. “But there’s nothing like taking the time to slowly peel off every article of clothing, to kiss every inch of your lover’s skin as you do it. To lick all the sensitive places until they quiver. To explore all the textures of your partner’s body with your fingers, your mouth.” His fangs flashed as he added, “Your teeth.”

Hunger gripped her so fiercely she had to struggle to breathe. Yet somehow, she managed to speak calmly, as if Con’s graphic words hadn’t affected her. “The end result is the same. An orgasm. So why waste all that time? In the hour it takes you to lick someone from head to toe”—God, seriously? Want.—“I could have had half a dozen orgasms.” Assuming she was with some fictional male who could come that many times, too—or a Seminus demon, whose ejaculate left females climaxing over and over, even if he left the room.

“Trust me,” he murmured, “the wait is worth it. You’ll get all those, but they’ll be better. Hotter. Afucking-mazing.”

Sin went utterly wet and achy. Even if her succubus needs weren’t creeping up on her, Con would have jump-started things.

“Put pressure on your laceration.” The abrupt change of tone and subject made her blink, but he turned away to paw through the glass-faced cabinets and toss supplies next to her on the gurney. Still dizzy with the images he’d put in her head, she grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser behind her and held it to the bleeding wound. A trickle of warmth ran down her arm and into her palm, and she covertly tucked another paper towel inside her coat sleeve. Then she entertained herself by watching Con’s fine ass hugged by black BDU pants. When he swiveled around back to her, she got a kick out of the way his gaze went to her bare thighs and black silk thong that was now damp with her arousal.

The longer he stared, the faster her heart beat, the more her belly fluttered.

The hotter it got inside the damned ambulance.

When his silver eyes finally snapped up, they’d darkened to a rich, smooth pewter, the hunger in them stark and undeniable, which was no surprise given what they’d just been talking about. For just a moment, she wondered if he’d act on his need, and she was both disappointed and relieved when he sank down on the padded bench across from her.

“This is pointless,” she said, even though the towel under her fingers had soaked through. “I heal quickly.”