The Warrior Vampire by Kate Baxter Page A

blood as he tried to clear the haze of lust that settled on his brain. The situation had gone from zero to FUBAR in less than a second. He needed to contain her, to calm her down. He could’ve fought back, but what would that accomplish? One of them—more than likely Naya—would get hurt. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself if need be. Ronan could handle himself just fine, thank you very much. He leaned against the wall, watched as she advanced on him, dagger in hand, a look of pure malice on her beautiful face. This was a female who dealt in violence. Dangerous. And fucking hot . He had no intention of dying, though. Not today, anyway.
    â€œLet’s pick up where we left off, huh?” Naya leveled the tip of the dagger so it hovered over Ronan’s heart. “Why are you here and how do you know my name?”
    The time for playfulness and charm had long since passed. If Ronan didn’t want the situation to escalate he had two options: One, he could disarm her yet again and show her just what it felt like to be bound in silver against her will. Or two …
    With the speed of a cobra’s strike Ronan seized the dagger from her grip and pulled her into his embrace. Practicality took a backseat to need as his bloodlust mounted, his desire for the female in his arms building to a fevered pitch. The scent of her blood drove him mad, her unyielding body held tight against him an unspoken challenge. She was an untamed thing, caught in his arms, and Ronan was determined to master her.
    Her palms found his chest as his mouth descended on hers. She shoved at him before her fingers curled, her nails biting into his flesh. A flash of heat stole over Ronan’s skin and he welcomed the burn that complemented the sting of Naya’s nails. He flicked out with his tongue at the seam of her lips and she went liquid in his embrace, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss as she gripped at his shoulders to pull him closer.
    His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat and his fangs ached in his gums. The more he gave himself over to his lust, the hotter his blood coursed. Fiery heat licked up his spine, lashing out over his flesh like a whip. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Ronan held Naya, cupping the back of her neck with his palm. The tenuous grip he had on his control slipped another notch. Her scent was heaven. A rich bloom of tropical flowers, rain, and sunlight.
    If he didn’t taste her, he’d go out of his fucking mind.
    He broke the kiss only to bury his face against her throat. Naya stiffened in his arms and he reached up, stroking gently over her jaw with his thumb. Too far gone to bloodlust for more than that single act of gentleness, Ronan jerked her T-shirt aside and buried his fangs into the tender flesh where her neck sloped down to meet her shoulder.
    Ah, gods!
    From the first deep pull on her vein he was lost. Thick and sweet, her blood spilled over his tongue, a heady nectar that had no equal. He wanted to glut himself on her blood. Lap every last drop from her skin. An almost inaudible sigh escaped Naya’s lips and she once again became pliant against him. Her hips rolled into his and Ronan’s sac tightened. With a grunt he shoved his free hand between them, plunging past the waistband of her pants and underwear to cup her heated sex in his palm. Her slick arousal coated his fingers and Ronan worked his fingers through the swollen folds as he continued to drink from her.
    This was dangerous ground. Her touch on his bare skin was heaven and hell all at once. Once he crossed the line, gave over to his lust, the blood troth would put him in his place. Heat like the fires of fucking hell would swelter in his veins. He’d risk hell and all of its fire for the female in his arms, though. A hitch of warm breath caressed Ronan’s cheek and a low, drawn-out moan that ended on a gasp when the pad of his finger circled her clit.
    The air left