Page 73 of Fated to Monsters

I want Bo to drink from me.

No, IneedBo to drink from me. The desire is far too visceral to be a simple want.

Does he have any idea just how badly I want to be entangled in him? Body and soul.

Maybe it’s the mark making me crave him that much more, but whatever it is, no amount of hate for him will deter me from not giving up. I have every reason to put that final boundary between us and call the death of our relationship before it’s even begun, but I can’t bring myself to stop chasing after something that I think, deep down, he really wants, too.

I skim my fingers over the scar on my neck. “Do you want to bite me?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?” I move my hair off my shoulder and expose the area to him.

He clenches his jaw. “No.”

I tilt toward him. “You know you want to.”

“Wren.” He uses my name like a threat but it doesn’t have the impact he wants.

No, it only tells me just how badly I’m getting under his skin.

I grab his hand and force his fingertips over the mark. “Just a little taste.”

Bo snarls, his fangs showing. His gaze flits to my neck, to my eyes, and back down. “I can’t.” He pauses and adds, “I shouldn’t.”

I stand a bit taller and tug him toward me. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could kill you.”

I shrug. “I’m not scared.” At this point, I’d say anything to get him to follow through.

“You should be.” A low growl leaves Bo before he leans down and presses his lips around the scar. He hesitates for what feels like an eternity, and my flesh snaps as he sinks his teeth into my neck.

Ecstasy cascades through me, and immediately, I feel faint.

His strong hold keeps me upright as my blood flows into his mouth. There is no agony, just sheer pleasure of his intimate nearness. I melt into him and bask in this moment for fear that it will end too quickly. That maybeIwill end too quickly. But death isn’t what scares me. No. What I fear is losing this moment with him. Not experiencing it fully. I’m overwhelmed with wanting it to last, to slow time and be here, in this temporary heaven with him.

Bo bites down harder, his teeth penetrating me deeper.

I grow cold despite his warm embrace. I need to feel him. To be enveloped by his entire existence and allow him to swallow me fucking whole.

Both literally and meta-fucking-phorically

I don’t want him to stop, not now, not ever. If this is what it takes to be close to him, I’ll take whatever I can get. Even if it results in my death. Because what is love without a little sacrifice?

Bo releases me quickly, his gaze frantic as it scans my face. “Birdie,” he breathes, the scent of my blood lingering. “Oh Angels, what have I done?”

My body, still and paralyzed, remains in his grasp. I part my lips but nothing comes out.

I am weak, tired, but so content.

“Fuck,” he blurts out. “What have I done?” Bo scoops me into his arms, lifting me from the floor. He rushes out of the room and up the stairs.

His jaw tenses, his face so fucking beautiful from this angle. He holds me tighter than he ever has.

Bo darts through the doorway of our shared bedroom and rushes over to the bed.

My heavy eyes close, and there isn’t anything I can do to keep them open. Here, I am home in his embrace.

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