Sin Undone

It demanded that he take her with surety, a rough joining that would make them both howl. And as she came, he’d take her blood, too… The idea made him run both cold and hot. He wanted nothing more than to fill up on her as he filled her up. But, as always, in the back of his mind was the fear of addiction, something he knew he was precariously close to.

He couldn’t be responsible for another death caused by his careless hunger for a female’s blood. Sin’s slick tongue flicked over one of his fangs and then ran up and down it, stroking, and he moaned, forgetting everything but her. Right now, he needed to concentrate on making her feel good. On making her forget the horrors of the day and the horrors yet to come.

The hardest thing he’d ever done was keep from tearing off her clothes and plunging inside her, especially when she began to rock against him, her lean form undulating in sinuous waves. A softly uttered “No” accompanied every roll of her hips. Her body was willing, but her mind still hadn’t accepted this. If he did what his body was demanding, a hard, fast fuck, she’d be on board. But the tenderness was scaring her.

“Easy,” he murmured, as he kissed a trail down her jaw, to her throat, where her pulse beat madly beneath his lips. “If you truly don’t want this, I’ll stop. But it’s time for you, isn’t it?” He knew it wasn’t. Oh, she was giving off the usual succubus fuck-me vibes, but not in desperate, take-me-now quantities. But she was nervous, afraid, and she needed an excuse to go with this because she wanted to, not because she required it.

“Yes,” she rasped, the lie seeming to catch in her throat.

“Then I’ll take care of you,” he murmured. The problem, he realized, as his hunger surfaced, would be taking care of himself. Sin was scared to death.

It took a lot to terrify her. But somehow this sexy dhampire who was kissing her senseless was making her squirm with anxiety and need that went deeper than the physical. He’d forced her to confront emotions she’d never wanted to experience, and she was still reeling from that, trying to stuff those feelings back in the box they’d been locked in for so long.

Cold, hard-core sex would help make that happen. Con reared back, just a little, so he could peel off her top and bra, her ultrathin leather dagger harness, and then her boots, pants, and thigh and ankle sheaths. He made a messy pile of her weapons, something that made her twitchy, but then he was touching her again, and her weapons were forgotten. Her heart pinged around in her rib cage as he slid his long, talented fingers up and over her breasts. She inhaled, taking in the musky scents of aroused male and battle that still clung to Con’s bronzed skin. Lust tackled her, turned her muscles to Jell-O, and made her core run wet.

Writhing, she dropped her head onto the hardwood floor with a frustrated curse. “Stop teasing.” She went for his pants again, but he stopped her, his grip on her wrist ruthless almost to the point of pain.

“I’m going to make love to you, Sin. We’re not going to fuck. We’re taking it slow, with lots of that foreplay I talked about.”

Her chest constricted with alarm. “Why?” He made a sound that was something between a chuckle and a purr. “Only you would question extended erotic play.” His fingers delved between her legs, feathering over the fleshy lips of her sex. “And I intend to turn you into my personal playground.”

Oh, Jesus. “I… can’t.” She didn’t know how. But more than that, making love would leave her open, vulnerable. Fucking was easy, two bodies slapping together to reach a brief moment of pleasure. Making love involved emotions tangling and minds meeting until the orgasm was more than physical… and she wasn’t good at that at all.

“You can, and you will.” He peeled off his jeans, leaving his lean, toned body completely naked, his silver eyes glittering in the moonlight streaming through the windows, his fangs glinting wetly. Deep-cut muscles flexed from his neck, to his arms, to his abs, where a thin line of blond hair beckoned her gaze lower. His cock was so rigid that it curved into his stomach, the veins throbbing with the intensity of his arousal. He looked like a god, a devil, a wild animal intent on taking what it wanted.

And yet, there was an underlying tenderness in his expression and in his touch as he prowled up the length of her body. Something lurched in her chest. Her heart, something she’d believed to be completely insulated, was reacting to this man in a way it never had before.