Page 102 of Gods' Battleground

“I don’t want him taking either of you from me,” he growled.

I set my hands on either side of his face. “My plan will work, Nero. I can overpower Mordon when he tries to take over my body. I’ll just need a little help from you to do it.” I took his hand.

“Anything,” he said immediately, entwining his fingers with mine. “Always.”

“Thank you.” I took his other hand too. “I knew I could count on you.” Slowly, I lowered into my knees, kneeling on the fluffy rug.

Nero followed, moving with me. He watched me withdraw one hand to grab the knife sheathed at my belt.

“If we exchange blood, that magic will tether me to you. I’ll be able to feel you across the vast expanse between worlds,” I said. “Having you there with me—even if only in my mind—that will help me fight Mordon’s control.”

I pricked my finger with the tip of the blade, then pricked his finger too. Twin drops of blood swelled to the surface.

“Ok,” I said, sheathing the knife. My face was flushed. His blood was calling out to me, drawing me in. “Then I guess we should just…”

My knees bumped his. I looked up, staring into his eyes. Silver flashed across the green irises. Slow and sexy, his tongue slipped out, sliding across his lips. And that flush in my face? It had spread, flashing through my veins, consuming my entire body, tip to tip. My throbbing pulse popped against my skin—agitated, hungry, aching for a taste. Aching for him.

I grabbed his pricked finger as he grabbed mine. His blood sizzled against my tastebuds, sweet and spicy and hot. I leaned into him, clutching him harder, drinking deeper. Every sip tasted better than the last. Every sip spiraled me deeper into him.

“Do you think…” I gasped as his mouth brushed my neck. “…do you think it’s enough?”

“No.” His chuckle sent tingles down my spine. “I like to be thorough.” He unzipped the front of my top with calculated, excruciating slowness.

“Yes.” The moaned syllable tingled on my lips. “I also like it when you’re thorough.” I removed his shirt, and I wasn’t patient about it either.

“And I love it when you get that look in your eyes,” he told me.

“What look is that?” I said coyly, biting my lip.

“Lust,” he said. His voice was deep, rich, and vibrated in all the right ways.

“That seems to happen a lot around you,” I said, my throat tight, my breasts swelling against my shirt. When was he going to take it off already?

“Soon.” Dark and dangerous, his chuckle was a promise, a threat…an appetizer.

“I’m not very patient, you know,” I said thickly. “How about we just skip straight to dessert?”

Nero chuckled again, low and deep in his throat. “As you wish.” His fangs pierced my neck.

Pain and pleasure flashed through me—inseparable, entwined—and I cried out. My body shook with each fresh draw of his mouth. I clutched him harder, gasping, wanting more of him. Wantingallof him.

Nero withdrew, magic and desire burning in his eyes. “Like that?”

My throat was pulsing, my legs shaking. I grabbed him forcefully and sank my fangs into his neck. His sweet blood poured into my mouth, tingling and burning like Nectar. I couldn’t think. I could only act. And feel.

“Your body burns for me,” he said.

His hot, hard chest scraped against my naked skin. Sometime during my frenzy, he must have finally finished taking off my shirt.

“Yes,” I gasped.

My back arched, my body ached, and my hands made quick work of his pants.

“You want me.” He shone like a god in a golden halo of heavenly light, kneeling before me.

“Yes,” I agreed, straddling him, groaning in pleasure as I slowly drew him inside of me.

His mouth dipped to my ear and he whispered, “Then take me, Pandora.” His deep, commanding voice growled against my throat. “Now.”

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