Page 33 of Blood Moon Heat

And it was—wonderful.

Oh gods, I wanted more.

As if he could read my mind, he thrust two fingers inside me and slid his tongue higher, teasing a spot that had me reaching down to fist his hair and lifting my hips for more—

He struck again.

I shrieked, bowing against the table, and came a third time, but this time I felt a gush of something that wasn’t blood as I trembled and cried out, my body convulsing against the cool wooden surface.

Nero slowed, lapping at me more gently, savoring, and I whimpered, moaning helplessly as little shocks of pleasure pulsed through my body.

He finally straightened, and a moment later, I was dragged down the table so my spread legs were on either side of his hips. The flashing lights made this whole thing feel surreal, a dream. I watched as Nero, his image fragmented by the rapidly pulsing lights, yanked open the front of his trousers, wrapped his fist around his long, thick cock, and stroked so fast he was a blur. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Then he grabbed one of my thighs, shoved it up and out, and angled his cock down.

I braced, expecting him to push it inside me. Instead something hot splashed over my swollen, needy flesh. Nero was focused between my thighs, and when he released his hard length, he rubbed his fingers in the liquid before shoving them back inside me. He leaned over me, his eyes locked on mine as he thrust his fingers deep and hard and fast.

He said nothing, and neither did I. I stared back, panting, as he brought me swiftly back to the edge of insanity. He didn’t bite me this time, though, no, he watched as I lost control all over again, gripping fiercely at his pumping fingers and calling out his name.

Finally, I collapsed back, panting, unable to move as he slid his fingers from me, and I watched as he did up his pants, then removed his shirt, revealing his muscled and tattooed chest for the first time. Sitting me up, like the doll he called me, he put my arms through the shirt sleeves and buttoned it up.

He lifted me then, carrying me through the empty club and up the stairs to his office. He hit a button, and the music and lights stopped. Then he carried me back along his private hall, down the stairs on the other side, and to my room.

Laying me on the bed, he tossed the covers over me. He was going to leave. He was going to leave me locked in here again.

“Don’t,” I choked out. “Don’t leave me in here by myself.”

He looked down at me dispassionately, swiping his thumb over my cheek. “It’s for your own good, Lalka.” Then he turned and walked out.

I picked up the book beside my bed and flung it at the door with a scream of rage.

This wasn’t over. He may think he’d won, but he hadn’t.

If he wanted to play games, fine.

But they had only just begun.

Eleven

Nero

I’d only wanted to tempt her last night, to make her lose her head and drink from me.

Instead, I’d snapped, my control slipping beyond my ability to regain it. That never happened, not since I was young, not since I was that wild thing, but after she’d buried her little fangs in me, the monster had taken over because it hadn’t been enough.

Fear and desire were an intoxicating mix.

Making chase, hunting my prey made me so fucking hard.

I’d expected her fear. I knew chasing her would terrify her. I’d counted on it. I thought I could use it to stop myself when I caught her.

But she’d fucking loved it.

My little doll had gotten so wet, her juices were sliding down her supple thighs. Being chased, the fear and anticipation of being caught, had excited her. Stopping was the last thing I wanted to do when that realization had sunk in.

My innocent Mina had gotten off on the chase—on the fear—as much as I had.

The fates knew what they were doing when they chose my bride, and that realization had been tormenting me all night.

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that way—that I’d felt anything.

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