Page 57 of Nearly Dead

“I’m choosing this,” I say.“I’m choosing you.”

He lowers his mouth to mine once more.

This time, there’s no restraint from either of us.The kiss builds into a desperate hunger.Violent but not destructive.

His hands roam my body, relearning the terrain, finding places that make me groan into his mouth.I do the same to him, exploring the planes of his chest, the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders.When my fingers find the buttons of his shirt, he lets me undo them one by one, not rushing and never taking control.

The destroyed library fades into insignificance.All that exists is us.My werewolf blood keeps my temperature naturally warmer than his.When my torn shirt joins his on the floor, the air raises goosebumps on my skin.

I don’t fight the new parts of myself.The bond is always there, humming beneath my skin like a second heartbeat, even when I pretend to ignore it.The change I feel inside when he touches me is not the painful, bone-breaking change of the wolf or the driving hunger of the vampire.It’s deeper and more fundamental.

It’s balance.

Costin’s love centers me.

We take our time.Every touch feels like a conversation.When he lowers me onto the couch, his body covering mine, I feel no fear about losing myself.There is only anticipation and desire.

Our bodies join and I can’t help the loud sigh of relief that escapes me.His body moves within me, gentle at first, then building to a more furious rhythm as I urge him on.My nails dig into his back, not to draw blood but to anchor myself as pleasure builds.

The sire bond amplifies each sensation into a kaleidoscope of feeling.I can sense his pleasure as well as my own, creating an endless loop of desire.But unlike before, I don’t lose myself to the beast within.

Perfect balance.

The pleasure is too much.Our climax builds and when release finally washes through us, it’s a revelation.I cry out softly.

Afterward, we lie tangled together on the couch, my head on his chest, his arms around me.Neither of us speaks, content to exist.I float on the edge of reality, not wanting to come back.I listen to his heart, the slow, steady rhythm different from the frantic pulses that have haunted me since my turning.

“What are you thinking?”he finally asks, his fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“That I should be more worried about having sex in my parents’ library,” I reply, surprising a laugh out of him.

“Is that all?”

I crane my neck to look up at him.“I’m just taking your advice and facing one moment at a time.”

ChapterThirteen

The full moon is a week away.Sully was right.I can feel it pulling at my blood like an invisible tide, calling to the wolf part of me.The sensation is strange, not painful exactly, but an insistent dull ache.There is the constant awareness that something primal and unstoppable is coming.

As if my urges weren’t bad enough, now I have the moon fucking with my hormones.This takes my “monthly visitor” to a whole new level.Too bad there isn’t a pill to stop the cramping.

I stand near the edge of the woods on the Devine estate, far enough from the main house that I can see the stars clearly in the night sky.The snow has melted, leaving behind dormant grass and mud.Magical protection shimmers faintly throughout the property, visible now to my enhanced senses.It’s faint, like glowing dust in the moonlight.I’ve spent my entire life inside these barriers, safe from the supernatural world that now courses through my veins.

Or so I thought.Being supernatural, I don’t feel the magic holding me back.It seems more like something to keep things out.It occurs to me my human childhood wasn’t as protected as I assumed.

A twig snaps behind me.I don’t turn.I already know who it is by scent, earthy and wild, with an undertone of leather and pine.

“You’re trespassing,” I say.

Sully chuckles, the sound low and rumbling.“The Devine wards don’t keep out those who are invited.I’ve heard rumors of your family’s parties.And you call us the animals.”

I turn to face him.He looks different tonight, more contained.The wild energy that usually surrounds him is focused.He wears a simple black t-shirt that stretches across his massive chest and shoulders, and dark jeans.His beard is trimmed shorter, and his eyes gleam with purpose.

“And who invited you?”I ask, though I already suspect the answer.

“Your brother.”Sully nods toward the main house, where lights still burn in several windows.“Anthony seems to think we should talk before the moon rises.”

Nope.That’s not who I would have guessed.I would have said Mortimer did it in hopes that Sully would kill off the family problem.

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