I didn’t look at him as I did what he requested. His blood was sweet, cool and wet against my tongue. I tried not to moan as I swallowed until the flow of blood stemmed. I’d always enjoyed the way drinking from him brought us closer, as though his lifeforce wrapped around mine and twined us together, cementing a union we could both feel. Even without a mirror I knew my lips were covered in red, my chin smeared. There was also something else. Something far more dangerous.
Disco shoved his knee between my legs, forced me to part my thighs, and used his arms to lift me. His pelvis held me in place, the firm ridge of his fully erect cock flush against my sex. I didn’t want this but I did. It was so confusing, so fucking wrong. I loved him, but I hated him. I wanted him, but I didn’t.
“You’ve put me through hell.” He rolled his hips, and this time I did moan. “Every single night I’ve ached for you. Each time I close my eyes, it’s your face I see. I’ve wanted to hold you for so long. To take back the hurt I’ve caused. To tell you how sorry I am.”
“It’s your own fault.” It was his fault, right? Or was it mine? I tried to remember, to bring to mind all the reasons I should tell him to go to hell.
“You’re right, it is my fault. But it’s your stubbornness that has taken it this far. Everyone makes mistakes or does things they wish they could take back. I’m one of them. You have no idea how much I wish I could turn back the clock, to undo what I’ve done. I want you back.” He thrust his hips against me. “Here, in my arms, in my bed.”
“Your bed is the last place I’d want to be.”
“Then forget the bed.” He shoved his hand between us, pressed his palm against my sex, and applied pressure. “We can take baby steps.”
“Stop him, stop him, stop him,” warred in my head with “say yes, say yes, say yes.”
He smelled so damned good, cinnamon and cloves, mist from the morning dew and a hint of smoke. Wherever he’d ventured with Marius, someone had been smoking a cigar. The sweet tobacco mingled with his own unique scent, enhancing it, making him impossible to resist.
“Please.” I was back to pleading for him mindlessly. Yes, I would certainly hate myself for it, but my pride didn’t matter. My anger at him was dissipating into nothing.
“We have to talk. There’s a lot you need to know. There are so many things I want to say.”
“Then maybe you should give me some space.” The words were rumbly, my voice heavy with desire. “It’s hard to think when you do that.”
“Then don’t think.” He chuckled and ran his thumb over my clit, using small circles with just the right amount of pressure.
Ecstasy. Bliss. Heaven.
I dropped my head back, allowing the wall to support me. His clever fingers continued working the sensitive bundle of nerves—pinching, flicking, rubbing—as he bowed his head and nibbled my ear. It wouldn’t take much to send me over, to have me calling out his name as I came. It had been weeks since I’d felt like this, wrapped in sensual waves of heat and pleasure.
When the bedroom door opened unexpectedly, I lifted my head and met Marius’s infuriated gaze. To my shock, Disco kept me exactly as I was, trapped between him and the wall. He didn’t move his hand, and he didn’t appear to be at all ashamed of the position we were in, but he was tense. I could feel the way his muscles tightened, could see the way his face went from impassioned to guarded.
“I thought we were finished for the evening,” Disco said and brought his mouth to my chin. He started licking away his own blood, the laps of his tongue gentle and soft, creating ripples of heat in my belly. I wasn’t an exhibitionist by any means, but with his blood rushing through my body, I wasn’t as reserved as I would normally be.
“Not yet.” Marius closed the door, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I suppose it’s just as well.” Disco finished cleaning the blood from my lips and chin and sighed. “Rhiannon and I were just finishing up.”
“Finishing?” Marius didn’t sound convinced and sniffed the air. “It seems to me that you’re just getting started.”
“Foreplay makes anticipation so much better, so much sweeter.” Disco’s blond hair tickled my nose as he lifted his head, eased his hand from between my legs, and stared me in the eye. “Doesn’t it, love?”