Page 47 of Firedrake Betrayal
Dominik’s jaw is stubborn, and the hard stare he’s aimed at Patten is proof of that.
Patten holds his wrist to Isaiah’s mouth. “So, get biting.”
I perch on the very edge of the purple velvet couch, curious.
Isaiah is still reluctant, though his gaze is hungry. He sits, palms flat on his thighs, as his eyes dart from Patten’s wrist to his face. “And you’re sure about this?”
“Go for it,” Patten assures him.
As Isaiah reaches for Patten’s wrist, Patten yanks his arm away. “Hold up.” He looks at me. “It won’t hurt, will it?”
Isaiah’s bite made me orgasm. It was that good.
I try not to think of how good it was in a room full of supernatural men who could probably tell when I’m aroused. Today has been difficult enough to want to add awkwardness to the mix. “No, it won’t hurt,” I assure him.
Isaiah lifts Patten’s wrist to his mouth. His eyes are serious as he looks at Shep standing at the back of the couch. “You’ll stop me if I can’t?”
Shep gives him a reassuring smile. “It won’t be necessary, but if it is, then I will.”
Isaiah turns to Patten.
Patten reclines as he gestures with his other hand as if to say, go ahead.
My breath sticks in my throat as Isaiah lowers his head. I glimpse a hint of sharp, white fang peeking between his lips before he buries them in Patten’s flesh.
Patten groans.
I grip the fabric of the couch.
Is he hurt?
Shep must have had the same thought I had—to move closer to the back of the couch, hands raised as if poised to rip them apart.
Patten’s head falls back and his eyes flutter shut as he groans again.
Not in pain.
This is a different sort of groan. One that arrows between my thighs and makes me… restless.
Isaiah sucks, and a hungry rumble sounds from his chest.
It had felt like Isaiah was lapping between my thighs when he made those same sucking sounds before.
Those sounds are making me breathless. And hot.
I’m breathing harder and faster as I watch them, unable to sit still, until Isaiah suddenly stops. He lifts his mouth from Patten’s wrist and licks twice before he releases Patten’s arm. There’s not so much as a trace of blood on his lips or Patten’s wrist.
For one long second, nothing happens.
Isaiah’s face was pale before, almost bone-white. Now his cheeks have a healthy glow, and I swear he looks like he just woke from a nine-hour sleep.
Patten sits up and, clearing his throat, doesn’t look anyone in the eye. “That was…”
Yeah. I know exactly how it was. My damp panties know it too.
When Patten gets up, it’s impossible not to notice the bulge in the front of his pants. “I’ll be right back.”
We watch him head for the stairs. I wish I could follow. I’m all wound up, needing the same release.
