More Wicked Alphas, Wilder Nights: Sizzling Collection of Paranormal Romance (Wicked Alphas, Wild Nights Book 5)



“I know who you are,” she whispered. “My mother used to tell us stories about you. The Bloodletter she called you. You represent each sign of the Zodiac, you below to all creatures and we, in turn, belong to you. The elders told us that the Guardians were so terrifying they killed every vampire, every warlock, and every demon. I was terrified of you once.”

My stomach trembled, still I had to know. “And now?”

“I don’t think you’re a Bloodletter at all.” Her hand passed in front of my face. Fingers probed the tender bone where my horns sprout. “I think you’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m broken. I’m weak.”

She shook her head. “Not in my eyes.”

My throat thickened as a battle raged in her eyes. Something was tearing this woman apart, some secret she wouldn’t share. Not yet anyway.

This time it was me who stepped away. “Then let’s go and get Maddy and this special baby of hers. I could do with a few more strong, independent, stubborn-as-hell women to scream at me.”

The sound of her chuckle made me soar. “Thank the Goddess for that. I guess you won’t be disappointed then.”

I glanced down at the dark blotches on my shirt. I reached for the buttons. “I might not act like the Bloodletter, but right now I sure look like him. Let me put on a clean shirt and we’ll go. Your jeans are okay, but your shirts a damn mess. Let me grab something from my closet.”

I strode across the room to the open closet door as my fingers worked the buttons of my shirt. I scanned clothes lining one side of the room as I dropped my shirt to the floor. I turned at the soft sound of boots scuffing the floor. I waited, heart in my throat, as she stepped into the doorway.

Most of my shirts were too big for her. I grabbed a black singlet that might come close to fitting and held it out to her. “My shirts will be too big, but at least you can wear this underneath.”

“Thank you.”

She turned and dragged the ripped singlet over her head. Her skin was perfect, not a scratch, or a blemish. I exhaled hard, mesmerized by her movements as she shrugged into my singlet—the damn thing looked a thousand times better on her.

Abrial turned to face me. Her gaze trailed my chest and arms. I turned, giving her what she wanted. Electricity filled the air. Goosebumps spread across my arms, a breath on the back of my neck urged me forward. The need in her eyes impaled me. I could force her, one slow kiss, one flick of my tongue.

No.

Not like that.

Not until she’s ready.

Show her, my dragon whispered. Show her how much we want her.

My gaze lingered on her lips. My skin itched with desire. I dropped the shirt to the floor then reached for my stomach.

I slid my hand over the hard curve of my chest riding the rise and fall of each harsh breath.

The faint earthy scent of desire filled me. My nipples puckered, sending a hard throb along my cock. My body shuddered until my belly turned weak and I hungered for her touch. Her hesitant gaze never wavered, following my hand as I edged along my stomach. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

She flinched, parting her lips. Fear carved a piece of my heart as I waited. She doesn’t want me. An ache bloomed in the back of my throat.

I caught her inhale as she dropped her gaze. Her tongue peeked out to slide across her lips. “You have blood… on your pants.”

My mind raced, searching for the connection until I made the only possible conclusion. “Then I’d better change those, too.”

Her slow nod had my fingers fumbling with my belt buckle. I shoved the zipper open, then hooked my thumbs under my boxers and slid them to the floor. Something fluttered in my stomach as she swept her gaze along my legs, to my thighs, and lingered.

My damn fingers trembled as I dropped my hand. My nails scraped my thigh as I cupped my balls. The skin tightened, sending a current through my shaft, and those wings inside my belly took flight.

The hitch in her breath and the tremble of her lips absorbed me. Her fingers twitched as I imprisoned my shaft and worked the length all the way to the head. Her nipples hardened under the soft fabric. Tiny beads crested the soft fabric with her rushed breaths. Inside my head soft, yielding flesh replaced my calloused grip. This would be hers, all of me—every single drop. All she had to do was take.

The primitive tug of my cock paled beside the longing of my heart. I uncurled my fingers and felt that primal need rise in my groin. One slow thrust gathered the skin at the head as I pistoned through my fingers.

A low moan tore from her lips. Her feet shuffled. She moved closer and whispered. “Harder.”

The engorged muscle pulsed. I drove my fist to the base again until sweat dripped down my shoulders. I licked my lips and tasted salt.

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