Page 51 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he says, finishing his search.

“You didn’t look everywhere,” I say, arching a brow.

A flicker of that smirk is back on those punishing lips. “Where did I miss?” he asks, running his hands over me again, this time lingering over my inner thigh. “Here?” he asks, voice low and gravelly.

My pulse skitters beneath my skin as he inches closer to where I’m aching for him.

“Or here?” he asks, shifting his powerful hand between my thighs.

I instinctively move into the touch, sighing with relief at the contact. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Hmm,” he groans, that low growling sound that’s his usual response to everything.

He toys with me there, over my trousers, and I shamelessly rock into his hand, inhaling deeply as I drink in his desire.

It’s delicious.

Addictive.

The sharp bite sparks an intense need inside me I’ve never felt before.

My eyes flicker up to his as he continues to stroke me with his fingers, making me completely liquid without ever breeching the fabric between us.

The bastardgrins. Nothing but pure male pride shifting along his edged features.

“You’re almost glowing,” he says, eyes trailing over my skin. “Does a little desire feed you that much?”

I groan, rocking against his hand, both hating and loving how easily he’s feeding me, spinning me right up to the edge of release.

“Not as much as…other things,” I sigh, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

I want him. I want his punishing kiss. I want nothing between us. The need thrashes beneath my skin in a desperate ache.

“Ah,” he says, stroking me harder. “What…other things?”

I bare my fangs up at him, loving the way his eyes catch on them, intrigue churning behind the dark.

I can’t answer. Can’tthinkaround the way he’s touching me. It’s like he knows my body, knows where to touch and how hard and how long?—

My orgasm sneaks up on me, ripping through me in a sharp snap that has me gasping for breath.

“Now who’s the one to finish things quickly?” he growls, his flavor mounting on the back of my tongue. Helikeddoing that to me. “I barely touched you.”

I swear the drifter’s chest puffs out a bit.

I smile at him seductively, pure mischief behind my eyes. “Doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a bounty.” He returns my smirk.

“Fair enough,” I say, then use the strength I’ve gained from his desire to spin him around so his back is against the tree.

He growls, but I’m on my knees and dragging down his leathers before he can stop me.

“Fuck,” he snaps as I take his hardened length into my mouth.

I moan around the feel of him, driven wild by the need prowling inside me. Once isn’t enough. I need more. I need all of him.

I’m starved.

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