Page 70 of Savage Blood
Someone dragged me into a dark room, slammed the door, and shoved me against the cool wood.
Just as my claws extended, a familiar face finally registered. Electricity popped within my neck tattoo, traveling down the ones on my arm all the way to my hand.
“Fane.”
I must have been really distracted if he could sneak up on me.
“Tate.” His real body brushed against mine, his touch like a drug.
Had his physical form been lurking in the hallway while his consciousness was in the meeting this whole time?
The bond roiled with excitement and longing. Heat seared my veins as his intoxicating scent inundated every inhale. My knees threatened to buckle.
“What do you want?” I hissed, trying to let anger override my desire. “Didn’t you annoy me enough at the meeting?”
His nostrils flared as his hand slid up my arm and rested on my neck. “Why aren’t you letting Saint heal you?”
I scoffed. “What do you expect me to do, Maverick? Sleep with him?”
A snarl slithered between Fane’s teeth at the very idea, and I couldn’t stop a smirk from spreading over my mouth.
“You can’t have it both ways, Fane. You want me to push you away and let Saint in, but you get possessive when he barely touches me.”
“I don’twantyou to be with him.” His eyes flashed scarlet. “But you need it.”
“How about I decide what I need?”
His pupils elongated as his head dipped forward, his hot breath branding my lips. “Then tell me what you need.”
The bond was at it again, pulling us together even when we wanted to be apart. We’d stretched it too far, and like a rubber band, it was snapping back with a vengeance.
Chapter
Seventeen
Fane’s lipscrashed on mine, and I felt like a metal pole struck by lightning. A moan burst between us as flames ignited over my body. His calloused hands dove under my shirt, caressing the skin on my lower back.
I was starved for him—his touch and his taste—and I couldn’t get close enough. Any cravings I’d had for the Infernal Sol had never been this intense.
Then again, my feelings for the demon shifter had always been extreme. I loathed him as much as I loved him.
And I wanted him twice as much.
“I hate you,” I murmured against his lips.
Fane palmed my ass, and he hoisted me up, dropping me onto a table. He’d pulled me into a rarely used conference room, dust coating the shelf below the whiteboard and the tops of the leather chairs.
“I’ve heard that one before, Teague. Many times.”
“But I mean it now.”
As he left my mouth, his teeth and tongue trailing downmy throat, I quivered. My head tilted back to give him more access.
“Hate me all you want.” Fane sucked on my neck, eliciting a ragged gasp from me. “You’ll still beg for more. Like always.”
Bastard.
He was also correct.
