Page 84 of Savage Blood
We hadn’t been together in so long.
Absolute torture.
I wanted Fane.
Neededhim.
More than food or water or air.
“Fane,” I moaned, giving up all pretense.
What was the point? He had an all-access pass to my emotions.
A string of curses burst out of the demon shifter. And then his savage heat dissipated.
And he was gone.
I slumped against the counter with a cry, panting. “Are you fucking kidding me!”
Was this Fane’s evil plan? Get me all hot and bothered only to leave? He couldn’t be that damn cruel, and he couldn’t possibly think that would help me overcome the reignited longing for the stupid amulet.
My hands curled into fists, moments from striking the mirror when the door whipped open, revealing a hulking demon shifter, pupils in diamonds and eyes blazing crimson.
Fane, in his real body, pulsated with rage. And lust.
I swallowed thickly as he entered the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, shaking the iron towel hook on the smoky gray wall. His nostrils flared, and so much heat throbbed from him that his very steps threatened to singe the gleaming white floor tiles.
“Have you been in Silver Ridge this whole time?” I choked out. “Watching me?”
“I’mneverfar from you, fiera mika.” He stopped behind me like his phantom form did a minute ago, grabbed my hands, and pressed them into the cold marble counter. The shinysilver fixtures on the white porcelain sink caught the red glow in his stare. “Don’t move.”
A scowl crossed my face at his command. “You’re not my boss. I don’t have to?—”
His teeth sharpened as he let loose a bone-chilling snarl. “Donotfucking move.”
Fear, the kind I craved, slinked down my back as Fane’s hand vanished under my sleeveless hoodie. Every hair on my nape rose as my body reacted to the threat he posed.
He was barely in control. His beast longed to take over and let his instincts run wild.
He could kill me easily.
But I was a different kind of prey for him now.
The demon shifter wanted to claim every inch of me so no other male would ever dare touch what was his.
A shiver rolled down my back at the thought of him doing every terrible, twisted, and naughty thing that ever crossed his mind. His warning growl made the moisture pooling between my legs soak through my clothes.
Fucking hell.
The tearing of fabric resounded against the marble and porcelain surroundings as Fane ripped my hoodie off and then slid a sharp talon down the back of my sports bra. My flesh prickled at the danger, but he didn’t break my skin.
If he had, I wouldn’t have minded.
Fane tore the straps to free my breasts of the tight material, his chest heaving as he explored them in the mirror.
When he cupped each one, squeezing and rolling my hardened buds, I whimpered. The ache ripping me apart grew tenfold, and if he wasn’t inside of me soon, I’d take matters into my own hands.
“Don’t even think about moving.” His rough, raw whisper made me want to provoke him.
