Page 88 of Taming Chaos

“You’re depleted,” she murmured. “Exhausted. In agony.”

“You know me too well.”

“All because of me.”

His sharp fangs grazed her delicate skin. His tongue flickered over her wrist. “Every single part of you is beautiful.” His voice became hoarse with need. Torin was trembling all over now, and his eyes were distant, unfocused. “I did this to myself, for myself, because I only want you, and I am selfish. I would destroy worlds for you, Persephone.”

Now that was a scary but romantic thought.

Torin wobbled on his feet. His eyelids drooped, his soft and surprisingly long lashes fluttering.

“Take,” Seph urged, her concern for him overriding anything else.

“I would never hurt—”

“Take,” she insisted, her voice dropping to a whisper. Surrounded by dead bodies, on a pirate ship bound for a forsaken war planet, she embraced her truth. “I’m yours, Torin. This is all yours, and I’m not some delicate flower. I won’t break from some little scratch, and there’s no way I’m going to let you pass out right here in front of me. You’re the one who’s hurt. Take.” She applied pressure, causing his fangs to break her skin.

As sharp pain shot through her wrist, Torin moaned. The powerful sound grabbed Seph and dragged her down into the heady morass of his pain, his hunger, his desire.

Her near-invincible warrior was hurt, and she had the power to restore him.

She relished her pain as Torin gently sucked the life-giving fluid from her body, making soft, ragged sounds of satisfaction. How good it felt to give, to nurture her protector after he’d saved her life, time and time again.

Seph ran her free hand through his soft, silken hair, thinking of all the things she’d like to do for him when they returned to Earth.

Seph was a damn good cook, and she liked to cook, but only for a very select few. For Torin, she would conjure up the most delicious, mouth-watering, hand-cooked roasts. No processed bot-food for her Kordolian.

Seph had a mighty caring streak inside her, but over the years, it had been suppressed, pushed deeper down beneath the scar tissue. Adult skin, she called it. Being a bitch, others called it. In a world where sticking to your guns got you judged to within an inch of your life, she was scared to tap into that caring streak for fear she would be taken advantage of yet again.

But with Torin, that fear didn’t exist. Everything just felt so natural.

That’s how she could let him take her very own blood and not be afraid. He needed something, and she could give it to him.

It was the best feeling.

Despite his obvious hunger, Torin was gentle with her, tapping into her veins, avoiding the parts on either side of her wrist where the big arteries ran. How does he know to do that? He took only what he needed, kissing her between mouthfuls.

When he was done, he looked down at her with such tenderness in his gaze that Seph started to feel all warm and gooey inside.

To her intense relief, his face was almost completely healed now, and his cheeks had filled out a little, although he was still far from his normal state.

But he’d stopped swaying on his feet, and his eyes didn’t have that glazed look anymore. Pupils that had been narrowed and unfocused were now wide and dark, like the infinite Universe.

Taking her in.

Drinking her in.

She bathed in his adoration, warmth spreading through her as he caressed the side of her face with gentle claw-tipped fingers.

“I love you, Persephone.” He leaned in and kissed her, tasting of clear icy rivers and just a hint of spice.

There was not even a hint of her blood on his tongue, because his crazily enhanced, super-powered, hungry body would have absorbed everything of her.

No, he tasted like he’d been made anew.

Pure.

Just Torin.

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