longer, she spoke
against his ear.
“Hold out for me, Quinn. Not until I say. Ssshh, cowboy.
Hold…”
He groaned against her temple, kept thrusting, but she felt
his body taut as a bowstring, obeying her. It was a drug all its own, none like
it.
“Come for me, Quinn,” she commanded at last. Then she bit
him.
She could release a rush of pheromones with her bite, and
she did so now, propelling his orgasm to a much higher intensity, though if his
was anything like hers, it was already more intense than expected. His blood
flooded her mouth, and she’d never tasted a man who was so every-kind-of-taste
she wanted. Bittersweet chocolate, just like the color of his eyes. Leather and
sweat, open prairie, the heat of a horse’s flanks, sunsets over open land, the
terrain she’d driven in darkness since she entered Texas. All of it was in him.
Oh God, she was so hungry. She really had waited too long to
feed. A couple of his more thoughtful looks in the bar had suggested he’d
picked up on some sense of vulnerability in her, and maybe it was the weakness
that came with hunger. That wasn’t acceptable in normal circumstances, but all
she could think of right now was that he would nourish her, help restore her in
so many ways.
She knew how much to drink without endangering him. He’d be
a little lethargic tomorrow, but he’d be fine, no worse than an aggressive
blood donation. If she gave him the first mark, she could figure out where he
was, imagine what he was doing…
It was good she was on the downhill side of her climax when
she had that thought, because the shock of it might have stopped her mid-peak.
She’d never been tempted to give a man any one of the three marks that
were the steps toward making a human a vampire’s full servant. She was too
young, right? Or maybe it was because she’d been dealing with too much shit
from Laurent to have time to focus on it.
Quinn might just be wrong time, wrong place. But it didn’t
feel that way.
The geographical locater, the first mark, wouldn’t be too
bad. She’d always know where he was, would be able to tell when he was coming
to the bar. Of course she’d scented him over a room full of people, so that was
a weak justification.
Nevertheless, she did it, releasing the serum as she drank.
It tingled through his blood in a way that made him shudder once more, but it
also had the least side effects of any of them. It was okay to know where he
was. She wanted to know where he was. Always, even when she had to leave him
behind as a fond memory. Part of her history.
He groaned out the last of his release, her holding him
close. She didn’t want to let him go, and he gave a half chuckle against her
temple when he tried to shift off her and she merely tightened her grip.
“I’m too heavy.”
He wasn’t. He was like the shelter in a storm, his heat, his
scent, the steady thump of his heart. What was wrong with her? He couldn’t
protect her. No one could.
“Hey.” His hand slid up to cup her skull, to hold her face
pressed to his throat and shoulder as she held him even tighter. “You’re
shaking, honey. You okay?”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, forced herself to smile
before she laid her head back on the pillow. “You’re right. You’re heavy. Get
off.”
He gave her a searching look even as he smiled and slid to
the side. When he gathered her up against him, it was no hardship to drape over
his chest, put her cheek down over that reassuring heartbeat, feel his
fingertips stroke through her hair, down her bare back.
She threaded her fingers through his light mat of chest
hair, followed the arrow of it to his ridged abdomen, stroked his hip bone and
studied his cock, now replete but so obviously capable of giving a woman
pleasure. He turned his head, pressed his lips and nose into her hair. It was
an intimate position, one that unfurled things inside her. Unexpected things.
“Selene.” He paused, and she liked how her name sounded on
his
against his ear.
“Hold out for me, Quinn. Not until I say. Ssshh, cowboy.
Hold…”
He groaned against her temple, kept thrusting, but she felt
his body taut as a bowstring, obeying her. It was a drug all its own, none like
it.
“Come for me, Quinn,” she commanded at last. Then she bit
him.
She could release a rush of pheromones with her bite, and
she did so now, propelling his orgasm to a much higher intensity, though if his
was anything like hers, it was already more intense than expected. His blood
flooded her mouth, and she’d never tasted a man who was so every-kind-of-taste
she wanted. Bittersweet chocolate, just like the color of his eyes. Leather and
sweat, open prairie, the heat of a horse’s flanks, sunsets over open land, the
terrain she’d driven in darkness since she entered Texas. All of it was in him.
Oh God, she was so hungry. She really had waited too long to
feed. A couple of his more thoughtful looks in the bar had suggested he’d
picked up on some sense of vulnerability in her, and maybe it was the weakness
that came with hunger. That wasn’t acceptable in normal circumstances, but all
she could think of right now was that he would nourish her, help restore her in
so many ways.
She knew how much to drink without endangering him. He’d be
a little lethargic tomorrow, but he’d be fine, no worse than an aggressive
blood donation. If she gave him the first mark, she could figure out where he
was, imagine what he was doing…
It was good she was on the downhill side of her climax when
she had that thought, because the shock of it might have stopped her mid-peak.
She’d never been tempted to give a man any one of the three marks that
were the steps toward making a human a vampire’s full servant. She was too
young, right? Or maybe it was because she’d been dealing with too much shit
from Laurent to have time to focus on it.
Quinn might just be wrong time, wrong place. But it didn’t
feel that way.
The geographical locater, the first mark, wouldn’t be too
bad. She’d always know where he was, would be able to tell when he was coming
to the bar. Of course she’d scented him over a room full of people, so that was
a weak justification.
Nevertheless, she did it, releasing the serum as she drank.
It tingled through his blood in a way that made him shudder once more, but it
also had the least side effects of any of them. It was okay to know where he
was. She wanted to know where he was. Always, even when she had to leave him
behind as a fond memory. Part of her history.
He groaned out the last of his release, her holding him
close. She didn’t want to let him go, and he gave a half chuckle against her
temple when he tried to shift off her and she merely tightened her grip.
“I’m too heavy.”
He wasn’t. He was like the shelter in a storm, his heat, his
scent, the steady thump of his heart. What was wrong with her? He couldn’t
protect her. No one could.
“Hey.” His hand slid up to cup her skull, to hold her face
pressed to his throat and shoulder as she held him even tighter. “You’re
shaking, honey. You okay?”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, forced herself to smile
before she laid her head back on the pillow. “You’re right. You’re heavy. Get
off.”
He gave her a searching look even as he smiled and slid to
the side. When he gathered her up against him, it was no hardship to drape over
his chest, put her cheek down over that reassuring heartbeat, feel his
fingertips stroke through her hair, down her bare back.
She threaded her fingers through his light mat of chest
hair, followed the arrow of it to his ridged abdomen, stroked his hip bone and
studied his cock, now replete but so obviously capable of giving a woman
pleasure. He turned his head, pressed his lips and nose into her hair. It was
an intimate position, one that unfurled things inside her. Unexpected things.
“Selene.” He paused, and she liked how her name sounded on
his
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