Sin Undone

“It can wait. You still haven’t recovered from the last feeding, not to mention the blood loss from your wounds.” Shade had power-punched her blood production into high gear, but Con didn’t want to push it. And the less time spent with his mouth on her, the better.

She shrugged, making her long, silky curtain of black hair swish against his chest. “Whatever. We’re only going to be traveling to warg packs. But no skin off my back. Just don’t blame me for any infections you cause.”

Sudden anger replaced the residual lust zipping through his veins, and with a snarl, he pushed away, putting several feet of distance between them. “I blame you for all of them.”

Her eyes narrowed into furious ebony slits. “Yes, I’m to blame. Are you ever going to stop reminding me?” “Maybe when my friends stop dying.” Clenching his fists so hard his knuckles ached, he pivoted around so he wouldn’t have to look at her, wouldn’t have to be reminded how much he both wanted her and hated her. His temple throbbed as he fought the urge to grab her, shake her until her teeth rattled, and then strip her naked and claim her right there on the kitchen floor.

Suddenly, her fists were pummeling his back. “You stupid son of a bitch! I fucked up and infected a shitload of people, but you don’t have to.” She shoved him hard enough to knock him into the fridge, severing the last thread of control on his temper, blurring the line between lust and anger. Hot, potent adrenaline surged in his veins as he wheeled around, seized her upper arms, and lifted her. He knew his eyes had gone fully mirrored, so she’d see her own terror in them. His fangs punched down and his cock got hard, and shit, he was on the edge.

But instead of terror, he saw only defiance as she ground out, “Do it, asshole. Bite me. What are you fucking waiting for?” Con slammed her against the wall and bit into her neck. She gasped, but the sound was followed by a low moan. As her honeyed blood poured down his throat, his libido went berserk, the way it had in Eidolon’s office, except multiplied by a hundred. Maybe it was because they were alone. Maybe it was because they had full body contact and his anger had shot all his common sense through the roof.

Maybe it was because with each feeding, the addiction was building. “Con…” His name came out on a whisper of breath against his ear, and it was his turn to moan. Especially when her legs came up and hooked around his waist, putting his aching shaft in contact with her core.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. “Fuck me,” she murmured. For most dhampires—and vampires—feeding went hand in hand with sex, which was why he preferred to take his blood from females. Few of his kind were picky about the sex of their bed and blood mates, but Con had long ago determined that a soft, sweet female was the best fit for him.

Except there was nothing soft or sweet about Sin, and for some reason, that fact had a far more powerful effect on him. The fight, the intensity… it rocked him like nothing—and no one—else. Yes. No. Ah, damn, his body was screaming for her, but his mind swirled with doubts. Deeper involvement with her would be a bad thing on so many levels. He’d keep her safe because he owed her brothers and because she could be key in finding an answer to the epidemic, but that was as far as the relationship between Sin and Con could go.

“Con.” Her satiny lips brushed his cheek, and the raw desire in her voice pummeled his resolve. “I need it.”

Right. Duh. Succubi. He had to keep her safe and healthy. Justifying sex had never been so easy. He couldn’t tear open his fly fast enough.

Sin wrapped one arm around his neck and dropped her other between them so she could rip open her own pants. Not gently, he shoved her up on the counter, disengaged his fangs, and jerked off her pants and thong. They caught on her boots, and he growled with impatience, tearing her pants as he yanked them off.

“Hurry,” she breathed. Now was definitely not the time for finesse, and he didn’t spare her as he gripped her thighs, spread them, and plunged deep into her satin core. Her cry of passion joined his. He felt her everywhere— on his skin, in his blood. It was like drowning in ecstasy, and he could no longer remember why he’d resisted her.

“Harder,” she moaned, and holy hell, she was a fucking dream come true. He planted his palms on the wall above her head, and she leaned back, bracing herself on her arms behind her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist in that way all males loved. A trickle of blood ran down her throat from the punctures in her neck, and he dipped his head to swipe his tongue over it. The flavor nearly had him coming.