He tried to speak her name - warn her to stop - but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a strangled moan. The pleasure and pain of her bite speared through him, like a jolt of current shot into every fiber of his being.
Christ, it felt good.
Too good, especially when he wasn't even sure what his blood would do to her. She was somehow Breed; he understood that now. But how would her body react to his red cells pouring into her?
He had that answer not even a second later.
Tavia released him on a guttural cry. Her eyes burned brighter now, throwing off amber light as hot as smoldering coals. Her fangs dripped blood - his blood - down onto her chin and the heaving swell of her chest. Her glyphs pulsed, alive and changeable, sexy as hell against the smooth cream of her skin.
As he brought his punctured wrist to his mouth to seal the wounds, Tavia avidly watched him. She licked her lips, her dark pink tongue lapping up every drop of his spilled blood that lingered on her mouth. Tipping her head back for a moment, her hands moved absently up to her neck, then over the top of her zippered hoodie to caress the curve of her br**sts. It was a sensual move, unconsciously so, an instinctual reaction to the blood that was now feeding her cells. When she looked at him again, her smoldering gaze rooted on his throat. Her breathing was still hard and frenzied, her body still vibrating with coiled aggression.
And she was hot. Chase could feel her body radiating into his where they connected, her nylon-clad h*ps straddling his na**d abdomen. His own pants felt too confining, his erection rising where her backside rubbed too pleasantly against his groin.
God, she was magnificent. Beyond beautiful.
And everything male in him was responding with swift, unwanted - quite obvious - interest.
He didn't have the chance to summon the will to push her away before she fell on him again, swifter than before, moving so fast he could hardly track her. Her bite was harder this time. A dead-aim strike at his carotid.
Chase's body arced violently, every muscle and tendon going taut as cables when her fangs pierced his neck and sank deep. She suckled him hard, drawing in a long pull at his vein that made his c**k surge so tight, he thought he would explode on the spot.
He didn't want to acknowledge the pleasure he was experiencing, but he was damned if he could deny it. His raging hard-on was evidence enough, but already he could feel his glyphs lighting up with approval as Tavia sucked in another mouthful of his blood.
"Christ," he hissed, unable to do anything but comply with the demand of her mouth on his throat. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever known.
Unmated, he'd fed exclusively on humans all his life. And never had he permitted a blood Host to drink from him. Not that blunt little teeth could compare to the razor-sharp pleasure of Tavia's fangs, holding him tight against her mouth as she greedily fed from his vein. With every beat of his heart, he felt his energy being drawn from within him, from limbs and core and senses, flowing into her. Nourishing her. He could feel her power growing. Her hunger deepened with every hard tug at his wounds. She moaned against his skin as she drank some more, the hum of her pleasure ratcheting his own desire ever tighter.
Tavia's h*ps began to move, grinding against him. He knew she was feeling the same arousal he was. He could see it in the liquid churn of her body. Could taste the fragrance of her desire in every hard breath he sucked into his lungs.
His c**k was hard as stone beneath her undulating hips. The ache of his want was brutal, a pure, delicious agony.
And if his need was unbearable, hers could only be worse.
Genetically enhanced with qualities meant to make a Host more pliable when bitten, Breed blood was even more potent when ingested. To a female born a Breedmate, it was arousal in its most primal form.
To Tavia?
He couldn't know. His only answer came in the form of her h*ps grinding more demandingly on his. He brought his hands up to rest along her back, on the verge of madness as she slid herself lower on his body, aligning the heat of her core to the hard ridge of his groin. He knew he should stop this before it went any further. But any thought of denying her was losing ground quickly under the sensual assault being waged on his already tarnished honor. "Tavia," he muttered thickly, feeling the jab of his own fangs pressing into the soft flesh of his tongue as his body gave itself over to the dark nature of what he truly was. "Ah, f**k ..."
MORE.
It was all she knew in that moment, the only thing that mattered.
More.
More of the quenching fluid that cooled the desert that was her throat. More of the power that was surging into every particle of her being, soothing the ache of her racked bones and muscles, calming the fury - the violent tempest of animal rage - that had first awakened her from her sleep overnight and left her shivering and confused, huddled on the floor of the room.
She wanted more of the pleasure that had started with her first taste of the spicy dark elixir that flowed over her tongue like liquid velvet from some exotic other world. It was blood. She knew this in the part of her mind that was still tethered to reality.
It was his blood. Sterling Chase. The man she should fear and probably despise. The man who was no man at all, but something dangerous and wild.
She wanted more of him.
Her pulse spiked at the thought, drumming harder in her veins. She felt her blood pumping, hot and alive, into every organ and muscle. Could practically hear the suck of her body's cells, drinking in his dark strength, claiming it as their own.
And oh, he felt good.
Everywhere they made contact, her skin buzzed with arousal. She couldn't deny the pleasure, any more than she could deny the need to slake the thirst that felt as though it had been building inside her all her life.