Jory Strong: Dakotah's Reading

Fane grinned. “I will call ahead and send them back to Kenton, in case you and Dakotah want to linger long enough to enjoy the fireplace as we did last night.”

And after she’d taken a shower and gotten dressed, that’s where Dakotah found Domino, standing next to the fireplace, its heat filling the room, its flames reflecting off him. He took a swallow from a wine glass and set it on the mantel. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the pungent herbs mixed with wine. Even from across the room, the odor offended her, burning her nostrils as she moved to stand opposite him. “What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head toward the glass.

“Something to keep The Hunger at bay.” His eyes darkened and his face tightened as his gaze slid over her, the scent of arousal joining the mix of wine and herbs. “Though it does nothing for The Heat.”

Dakotah reached for the glass, grimacing as she brought it closer to her mouth. He smiled slightly but didn’t stop her from taking a sip, though in truth, she barely wet her lips before putting the glass back down on the mantel. “What happens if you don’t drink it?”

“Eventually the whisper of The Hunger becomes a temptation and a command that can’t be ignored. Then we kill. And are declared rogue and hunted depending on the circumstances and whether or not rehabilitation is possible.” He reached over and cupped her face, stroked her mouth with his thumb. “Only the taking of a mate frees us from the necessity of using the herbs. The sharing and mixing of blood changes us so The Hunger is completely sated when we feed from our chosen one.”

Dakotah turned her face so that her lips rubbed against his palm. Her tongue darted out, tasting him. “Kiziah said you’re sexually bonded to me.”

His nostrils flared slightly and something primitive moved through his eyes. “I am.”

Dakotah had no desire to have sex with anyone else. The wolf bristled at the thought of it, and yet she could if she wanted to. “I’m not sexually bonded to you.”

“Yet.” His hand moved to her hair, his fingers grasped the dark strands, trapping her as he leaned in, stopping when his lips hovered over hers. “There is no escape, Dakotah, only the choice as to when the second and third exchanges are made.”

He closed the distance, covered her mouth with his. The strength of his hands, the hardness of his body, the fierceness of the need pouring off him all contrasting sharply with the gentleness of his kiss, the slow, seductive dance of his tongue against hers.

Her heart jerked and raced when his fangs extended, tempting her curiosity just as the smell of the herbs and wine had. He groaned when she traced the deadly canines with her tongue, pressed his lower body more tightly to hers so that she could feel the rigid length of his erection.

Of their own accord her hands went to the front of his shirt, trailed down the center of it, releasing the buttons one at a time, not stopping until she’d undone the sole button at the waistband of his jeans. “Dakotah,” he warned and she laughed softly.

It was exhilarating playing with him, dangerous. Like teasing a wolf.

But then she wasn’t afraid of wolves.

She unzipped him, catching his gasp in her mouth and his cock in her hand as she became the aggressor, as she rubbed her tongue against his and explored his straining shaft and heavy balls with her fingers.

He let her, though she knew he could easily take control. And she marveled at how much pleasure it gave her to command his body.

She’d dominated hundreds of men because it meant her continued survival. She’d controlled them. Reduced them to pleading and begging. Been the embodiment of their sexual fantasies. And it had left her cold. Compartmentalized. Wishing only to escape from the hell she found herself in.

But now she found herself in a sensual heaven. Where her blood burned and her body ached.

She knelt, pulling his jeans down with her, pausing to take off his shoes and socks before removing his pants and looking up his body. Marveling at his masculine beauty. He was firm muscle and hard male. Enthralling even without the pheromones of his kind.

The wolf quivered with joy and anticipation, the woman mimicked the movement, shivering, suddenly sorry she’d bothered dressing. The feel of her clothing was an irritation against her skin, a confining presence that needed to be shed.

She stood and stripped. Boldly meeting Domino’s gaze. Her breasts swelling and her nipples tightening as his eyes traveled over her body. His nostrils flaring and his lips parting.

She spread her legs when he got to the dark pubic hair, let him see her flushed, swollen cunt lips and the moisture that was gathered there. A wet, silent summons.

When he dropped to his knees, she buried her fingers in his hair and draped one thigh over his shoulder. Nearly howled with pleasure when his tongue went to her slit, his hungry bites and licks and sucks making her grind herself against his face.

The Heat roared through Domino. The taste of her arousal was almost as addicting as that of her blood.

He wanted to drive his fangs into her thigh, to mix pleasure with pain and find ecstasy. He wanted to consume her. To feast. To fuck. To claim.

But he forced himself to please her instead. To thrust his tongue deep into her channel then retreat to swirl it over her erect clit. To press his lips to her lower ones in an erotic kiss meant to capture then leave that nectar-covered flesh in order to suck on her engorged knob.

She fought the pleasure even as she writhed against him in order to gain more of it. The sound of his name in between her whimpers and deep-throated moans rewarding him and holding him in check.

She would beg for his bite. Beg for the second exchange of blood.

He wanted it to be her choice. He needed it to be her choice. The words he’d said in the woods had come from his heart. He wanted a mate with a mind of her own. With courage of her own.

Domino ate at her until her back bowed and she convulsed with orgasm, flooding his senses with her release. His cock bobbed in warning and only the tight fist of his hand around his penis kept him from spewing his seed across his own stomach. He groaned and looked up, his mouth still buried between her thighs, his lips and tongue pressed to her wet flesh.

The wildness he saw in her eyes rushed through him like a lightning bolt, stripping away the man and the wolf, so that only the vampire remained, a creature of Heat and Hunger.

“Bite me,” she said.

Domino turned his face into her thigh, knowing he was damning himself. But there was no way to ignore her command. No way to ignore the temptation she presented.

His fangs slid through her skin, hitting the artery there with easy accuracy. The hot rush of her blood intoxicating, an addiction he had no hope of curing. It fed The Hunger while The Heat drove him to slide his hand up and down his cock, to palm the head as his tongue lapped at her silky flesh, to resume pumping in time to the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Until Heat and Hunger once again merged, blending together into a single flame that burned with Dakotah’s name, danced in time to her heartbeat. Thundering, racing, spiking with orgasm as jets of semen rushed through his cock. Slowing, stuttering, nearly extinguishing as he sealed the bite and pulled his mouth away, catching her easily as she collapsed.

Every instinct demanded he open a vein and force her to drink, that he make the second exchange when she was too weak and dazed to fight the choice. Domino stood instead, pausing to ensure she wasn’t in danger of dying before retrieving a hand-stitched quilt from the sofa.

He wrapped her in it and settled her on the couch, then dressed himself and doused the fire in the fireplace. It took only a moment to gather her clothes and pick her up. To take her to the car.