Page 103 of Cosmic Power

A shiver ran down her spine. Excitement fluttered in her stomach. Her werewolf slinked to the surface, making her skin buzz.

Go to your space,Zamorra commanded her werewolf as she stepped into the room.

Aw come on, let me stay for the good stuff,her werewolf whined.

No. Now go.

With an overexaggerated sigh, her werewolf disappeared into the far corner of Zamorra’s mind, slamming a metaphorical door. It was a way to give Zamorra privacy during intimate moments. She could still feel her werewolf’s presence, but instead of being able to see and experience everything Zamorra could, her werewolf was now shut away in a room deep in her mind.

Luther shut the door with a bang, making her jolt. The click of the lock snapping into place followed next and she gulped. Nervousness flooded her body. She had no clue why. She wasn’t the self conscious type. Her body wasn’t runway model material. But she was happy with it, confident in her own skin. Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been intimate with someone. She was more pent-up than a horny teenager. And she wanted Luther more than she had ever wanted anyone before.

So what the fuck was she so nervous about?

Luther ran his dark eyes up and down her body slowly, tingles erupting over her skin. Her pulse quickened at the wolfish smirk on his face, at the way he stared at her like he wanted nothing more than to rip off her clothes and devour her.

His focus was completely on her, the intensity of his gaze making her want to squirm. But she wouldn’t.

One of the first rules her father taught her? Never show unease in the face of a predator.

“You’re awfully restless, Little Alpha,” Luther purred, taking a step in her direction.

Crap. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding it as she thought.

She mirrored his step, her senses on high alert. “What makes you say that?”

“I can hear your heart beating, how fast it’s pumping in your chest. Tell me, is it from fear or excitement?” Another step toward her.

She shifted her feet, mirroring his actions so they ended up circling each other, their eyes locked. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“So, excitement then?” He cocked his head, his tongue running over his lips, drawing her attention to the set of wicked sharp fangs poking out of his mouth.

The image of those fangs buried in her neck flashed through her mind and she had to work hard to suppress a moan. She’d never had the privilege of experiencing a vampire’s pleasure bite, but she heard it was better than any drug in the world; that it gave the best, most satisfying high. Like their blood.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, keeping her distance, mimicking each of his steps so they continued to go round and round in circles. She tapped into a modicum of her werewolf’s power and lengthened one of her fingers into a sharp, six-inch claw. With her hands behind her back, she clenched her fists, piercing her palm with her claw. She grimaced slightly at the sting.

The scent of her blood hit the air, causing Luther to stiffen, stopping dead in his tracks. A visible tremor racked his body and he growled deeply, like it was taking every ounce of strength he possessed not to pounce across the room and take her.

Not that she would have minded.

Gratification sailed through Zamorra at his reaction. It was exactly what she was hoping for. “What’s the matter, Luther? You’re awfully…restless.” she smirked, a teasing note to her voice.

A burst of vampire speed made Luther appear in front of her in the blink of an eye, making her gasp in surprise.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Little Alpha,” he whispered, deadly.

“Who’s playing?” She sure as fuck wasn’t. She wanted to make him snap. To lose control. To take her like she wanted to be taken.

Keeping her eyes locked with his, she pulled her bleeding hand from behind her back and smeared her blood on her neck and down the front of her chest, trying to bring out the predator that lived deep within him.

He sucked air in between his clenched teeth, his body so tight she thought he might explode. His eyes burned red with hunger as he followed the trail of blood dripping over her skin, his fangs lengthening more with each passing second.

“Zamorra,” he growled, low and dangerous.

He was at the end of his rope, tension vibrating around him. She could see it, sense the need he had for her consuming him like a drug. It excited her.

With slow, precise movements, she brought her hand up and smeared blood on her bottom lip with her finger, a taunting look in her eyes.

Luther snapped. Snarling like a wild animal, he pounced on her, one hand gripping her hair roughly while the other dug into her hip, holding her completely at his mercy. His lips smashed to hers, aggressive and full of wanting. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his throat. His hold on her tightened and the next thing she knew, her back hit the wall behind her hard, shaking the entire room.

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