Page 146 of Dare To Live

“What are you talking about?”

“First Jace, now Lacy and Brad.” I reach out to twist a lock of blonde hair around my finger. “Be careful. I might start to think you care about me.”

Her frown deepens. “I do care about you. You know that already.”

“Enough to stop another woman from getting close to me.” I use my grip on her hair to draw her closer to me. I want to stoke the flames higher, feel the heat of her anger.

“Do you want Lacy to—”

“Fuck no.”

“Then why are you complaining?”

“Sheath those claws, Kitten.” My lips curl up. “Unless you plan on making me bleed.” I lower my head to brush my lips over hers. “Maybe you should … to drive home your claim.”

“Maybe I should what?” There’s still a bite to her tone.

There’s clearly something wrong with me because it turns my dick to stone.

“Draw blood. Make me bleed. Own your words.” My tongue flicks out to lick over her lips.

“Own my words …”

“You said I’m yours.”

“I was making a point,” she snaps.

“I noticed that.” I deadpan.

Her eyes narrow. “Are you mocking me?”

“Will you attack me the way you attacked Lacy if I am?” I kiss my way across her cheek to her ear. “Will you make me bleed, Hellcat?” My teeth find the lobe of her ear and I bite down gently. “Do you want to claw at me? Drag your nails down my back until I beg for mercy?” I lick my way down her throat.

“Is that what she did?” She reaches up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the back of my head and pulls my mouth away from her throat. “Did she claw at you?”

“Never. I’ve only ever let one woman mark me.”

“Who?” Her fingers tighten, her eyes sparking with heat, and fool that I am, I want to fucking burn in her fire.

I smile, and run my tongue over my lips, pausing at my piercing to toy with it. Her eyes follow the move, her tongue mimicking mine as it moves across her own lips.

“Jealous, Hellcat? Don’t like the thought of someone else with their claws in me?”

“Who is it?” Her voice is fierce.

I laugh.

“Fuck you, Eli.” Her hand drops and she spins away.

I catch her arm and pull her back. “I wish you would.”

“Would what?”

“Fuck me.” Wrapping my arm around her waist, I drag her against me and lower my head until my lips hover above hers. “Mark me like you own me. Bite me like you’re hungry for me.” I kiss her, hard and fast. “Fuck me like you hate me, Ari.”

The words are a catalyst, and she grabs my face between her hands, lips twisting into a wordless snarl. Her mouth attacks mine with a feral heat, teeth snapping and biting, and a coppery taste hits my tongue seconds after a sting to my bottom lip tells me she’s drawn blood. Her lips close over mine, tongue lapping at the tiny wound, and she makes a sound in her throat, low and guttural.

Her hands move from my face to slam against my chest, sliding down until she reaches the hem of my shirt and then work their way back up beneath the material and over my ribs.

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