Dark Lover

Wrath felt his breath ease out of him. "I'm glad."

"So if you see him again, don't kill him."

"Okay."

There was a long pause, and then he heard her shifting around on the bed. The satin sheets made a soft sound as she moved.

He pictured her thighs rubbing against each other and then saw himself opening them with his hands. Nudging them farther apart with his head. Kissing a path down to where he so desperately wanted to be.

He swallowed, his skin turning into shrink-wrap.

"Wrath?"

"Yeah."

"You really didn't mean to sleep with me last night, did you?"

Hazy images of her had him closing his eyes. "No, I didn't."

"So why did you?"

How could he not have? he thought, jaw clenching. He'd been powerless to leave her alone.

"Wrath?"

"Because I had to," he replied, stretching his arms, trying to find some ease. His heart thundered in his chest, his instincts coming alive, as if he were in battle. He could hear the breath leave her lips, her heart as it pumped, her blood as it flowed.

"Why?" she whispered.

He should go. He should leave her alone.

"Tell me why."

"You made me realize how cold I am."

More shifting on the bed.

"I liked warming you," she said huskily. "I liked the feel of you."

Dark hunger curled in his gut, cramping up his stomach.

Wrath stopped breathing. Waited to see if it would pass. The gnawing sensation grew stronger.

Shit, that sinful need wasn't just about sex. It was about blood.

Hers.

He stood up quickly and put more space between them. He definitely needed to get out of here. Hit the streets. Find a fight.

And he needed to feed.

"Look, I've got to take off. But I want you to crash here."

"Don't go."

"I have to."

"Why?"

His mouth opened, his fangs throbbing as they elongated.

And his teeth weren't the only thing demanding to be used. His erection was a painful, rigid length straining against his fly. He felt himself get stretched between the two needs. Sex. Blood.

Both hers.

"Are you running away?" she whispered. It was mostly a question. Only a little bit of a taunt.

"Be careful, Beth."

"Why?"

"I'm about to crack over here."

She got off the bed and came to him. Her hand landed squarely on his chest, right above his heart. And then her other one wrapped around his waist.

He hissed as she stepped into his body.

But at least the sexual need cut through his other hunger.

"Are you going to tell me no?" she asked.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," he said through gritted teeth. "You've been through enough tonight."

She gripped his shoulders. "I'm angry. Scared. Confused. I want you to make love to me until I don't feel, until I'm numb. If anything, I'd be using you." She looked down. "God that sounds awful."

The hell it did. He was more than willing to be used like that by her.

He tilted her chin up with his forefinger. Even though her rich scent told him exactly what her body needed from him, he wished he could see her face clearly.

"Don't leave," she whispered.

He didn't want to, but his bloodlust put her in danger. She needed to be strong for her change. And he was thirsty enough to drain her dry.

Her hand left his waist. And found his erection.

His body jerked wildly, breath slamming into his lungs. His gasp shattered the silence in the room.

"You want me," she said. "And I want you to take me."

She rubbed her palm over his length, the friction passing with aching clarity through the second skin of his leathers.

Just sex. He could do it. He could hold back the other need. He could.

But was he willing to bet her life on his control?

"Don't say no, Wrath."

And then she lifted up onto her tiptoes and put her lips to his.

Game over, he thought, crushing her to him.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth as he grabbed her hips and ground himself into her hand. Her moan of satisfaction cranked him even higher, and as her nails bit into his back, he loved the little bursts of pain he felt because they meant she was as hungry as he was.

He had her on the bed and under him in a flash of movement, and he pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties with vicious impatience. He didn't treat her blouse or bra any better. There would be time to savor later. Now was all about raw sex.

While he worked her breasts with his mouth, her hands were rough as she pulled his shirt from his chest. He left her only long enough to undo his pants and spring his erection. Then he linked his forearm behind one of her knees, stretched her leg up, and plunged himself into her body.

He heard her gasp at his powerful entry, and her slick heat grabbed onto him, pulsating as she came. He froze in place, absorbing the sensation of her release, feeling her core stroke him.

An overwhelming, possessive instinct flashed through him.

With dread, he realized he wanted to mark her. Mark her as his. He wanted that special scent all over her so no other male would come near her So that they would know whom she belonged to. So that they would fear the repercussions of wanting to possess her for themselves.

Except he knew he had no right to do that. She wasn't his.