Page 31 of Claim of Blood
Lander’s eyes snapped open, meeting Adam’s gaze for a defiant second before dropping to where his hands worked Leo’s cock. His jaw clenched with the effort of compliance, resistance warring with obedience in every line of him.
With a growl of satisfaction, Adam drove deeper and sank his fangs in again, harder this time—ripping a fresh cry from Leo’s throat. The bond flared, magic singing across his tongue like lightning. Leo’s pulse beat strong and frantic.
Adam drank, and the world narrowed to possession.
Leo’s orgasm hit like a storm—a strangled cry, a full-body tremor, and a sudden hot rush over Lander’s hands.
Only then did Adam allow himself to release, burying himself deep with a satisfied groan
Across from them, Lander came with a hoarse, helpless sound despite the order—or perhaps because of it. His hand worked frantically over himself as he spilled across his belly, eyes wide and fixed on the scene.
Silence followed, heavy and close. Only the sound of ragged breathing.
Adam held still, breathing Leo in—the taste of fresh blood, the bond thrumming low and sated. Beneath it all, he could smell Lander: spent, flushed, something fragile and uncertain coiling through his scent.
Between Adam’s thighs, Lander trembled, his shoulders tense, gaze fixed on the floor. He should have waited.
The thought came unbidden, cold and sharp. Lander had come without permission, had ruined the rhythm Adam had set. That was… unacceptable.
Adam blinked, unsettled by his own reaction. The thought didn’t feel like him. Not truly. For five millennia, he had ruled by loyalty, not cruelty. But this impulse to correct, to punish—it clawed at the edges of his restraint like something feral trying to break free.
He inhaled slowly, centering himself. The bond had frayed his discipline. That was all. A side effect. Temporary.
He would need to be cautious.
Leo slumped in his arms, wrecked and pliant, his breathing evening out in the hush. Adam adjusted his hold, feeling the faint tremor still running through him. The bond pulsed again—satisfied.
Lander shifted, as if unsure whether he was dismissed. Adam glanced at him, reading the tight set of his jaw, the flush creeping down his neck. Shame and something raw tangled in his scent.
“You should have waited,” Adam said, voice measured but low enough that Leo wouldn’t catch the words.
Lander flinched, but didn’t lift his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. His hand flexed against his thigh. “It… wasn’t intentional.”
Adam considered him for a long moment, feeling the hunger in his chest subside just enough for clarity. “No,” he agreed, more to himself than Lander. “It wasn’t.”
He shifted Leo’s weight carefully and brushed a hand over Lander’s shoulder—acknowledgment and dismissal at once. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said, voice neutral. “Your insight was helpful.”
Lander’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “Of course, First.”
“Adam,” he corrected gently. The name felt important in that moment—something human in the wreckage of power. “Call me Adam.”
“Of course… Adam.”
But something had shifted. Adam could hear it in the careful way Lander spoke his name, could smell the complicated mix of emotions rolling off the younger vampire. This would need addressing, but not now. Not while Leo was still recovering, and the bond was still singing through Adam’s veins like electricity.
He turned his attention to dressing Leo with deliberate care, the soft clothes a comfort Maja had chosen wisely. Leo stirred only slightly as Adam maneuvered him into the garments, pliant and trusting in his exhaustion.
“Some water would be helpful, Lander,” Adam said as he pulled the waistband up. “And a quiet place where he can recover.”
Lander nodded once and moved ahead of them, leading the way into the corridor. Adam followed, one arm around Leo’s waist to steady him. His hunter’s balance improved with each step, though his expression remained dazed, caught between satiation and confusion.
Adam’s mind had fully returned to him. The fog of the bond had receded, though the warmth of it still pulsed through his senses—especially in the way Leo’s scent clung to his skin, mingled with his own. But beneath it, he could smell Lander.
Arousal. Humiliation. Pride held too tightly in his chest. And under it all, confusion.
It stirred something unexpected in Adam—not hunger, not quite, but possession. Without thinking, his free hand extended, brushing lightly along the side of Lander’s face as they walked. His fingertips trailed from cheekbone to jaw, down the curve of his neck in a shifter’s touch, instinctive and territorial. Marking without a bite.
Lander flinched, his steps faltering as he turned his head slightly, casting a wary glance over his shoulder.
