Page 88 of Claim of Blood
Lander obeyed, thrusting into Leo before dragging himself back onto Adam. The renewed pace sent Leo crying out, his overstimulated nerves sparking with every movement. The heat of Lander’s submission wrapped around Adam like a vise.
Adam leaned forward and bit down, fangs sinking into Lander’s throat. Lander faltered—then found the rhythm again, his hands gripping Leo’s hips in desperation.
The world collapsed to sensation—blood, friction, scent, and the sweet crack of surrender.
Leo came with a shout, body arching between them, triggering Lander’s climax as he spilled into the hunter with a choked cry. Their mingled pleasure filled the air like incense.
Adam’s hand slid from Lander’s chest to his throat.
He squeezed.
Lander jerked in his grasp, body locked in panic. One hand clawed at Adam’s wrist, nails raking his knuckles. But the other didn’t fight. That arm went slack. And Lander, through the tears in his eyes and the shudder in his lungs, tilted his head back—offering more of his throat to Adam’s fangs.
That contradiction—terror and submission, pride and obedience—was exquisite.
Adam drank deep, swallowing mouthfuls of Lander’s blood as he fucked him harder. Just as Lander’s struggling hand slipped away, his strength spent, Adam’s orgasm tore through him—sharp, possessive, final.
He came deep, holding Lander frozen on his cock, filling him until he felt the overflow.
Only then did he release his grip.
Lander collapsed onto Leo in a trembling heap, dragging air into his lungs with harsh gasps. His lashes were wet, cheeks flushed, but the dazed satisfaction in his expression told Adam everything.
He pulled back slowly, watching his seed leak from Lander’s used hole—then pushed it back in with two fingers, firm and unrelenting.
Lander groaned, raw and broken.
Adam didn’t stop. He shoved his fingers deeper, grinding into that overstretched heat, coaxing Lander’s prostate again and again until he shuddered and came a second time—spilling into Leo with a final, helpless sound.
e warmth of Lander’s release still deep inside him.
He kissed Leo slowly, deeply—claiming him again with tongue and breath.
“We should shower,” Lander said at last, voice careful, cautious. The color still rode high on his cheeks.
Leo snorted a laugh. “No chance. Adam wants us smelling like him.”
He turned his head toward Adam, eyes lidded but knowing. “Don’t you?”
Adam stilled.
Leo wasn’t teasing. Not really.
And he was right.
He should want them clean. Comfortable. But the thought of rinsing away the scent, the evidence, the mark of what they’d done—it sent something ugly and possessive clawing up Adam’s spine.
His answer came low and rough. “Not yet.”
He moved to gather their clothes—every scrap—and dropped them into the laundry bin. Then retrieved fresh ones, identical in cut and softness. He handed Leo a shirt first, watching hisclaim sit up, blinking like he’d surfaced from deep water. The compatibility haze was lifting.
Adam stepped through the concealed doors into Lander’s adjoining room. The younger vampire followed, naked and hesitant, the confidence that usually cloaked him long gone.
Adam paused at the closet entrance, catching the scent of his own release still leaking from Lander’s body.
Another flash of heat.
Leo padded in behind them, tugging his shirt into place. “You okay, Lander?”
