The Bite That Binds Page 29


Awkward, mind-reading minx. “As long as you quickly put me inside you, I don’t have a problem with that.”

She hovered above the head of my cock, but she didn’t sink down. Instead, she began tantalisingly rocking back and forth, back and forth. At the same time, she nibbled on my throat, teasing me with the possibility of biting down and drinking from me. Then one of her hands was cupping my balls, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. I loved all of it, sure, but there was only so much a guy could take. The next time she rocked back, I gripped her h*ps and surged up inside her. Both of us groaned as her muscles clamped tight around me. Christ.

“I said that I was in charge this time.” She again draped my arms over the sofa, which was sheer torture for me since I ached to touch her.

“Then take control. Fuck yourself on me, Sam.” The request came out with a ring of authority that turned it into an order. Yeah, well, handing over total control wasn’t my thing. “I want to watch you f**k yourself on me.”

“Good…because I want you to watch.” Slowly, with her eyes locked with mine, she began rocking her hips, moaning softly. She dragged her nails down my chest, taunting me to move and try to touch her. I had to clench my fists against the urge to do it, the urge to cinch her h*ps and help her to up her pace. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her for long; I could no more ignore the urge to touch her than I could ignore the urge to breathe, or sleep, or drink blood. It was that basic.

She soon fell into a steady rhythm, impaling herself on me over and over. I loved seeing her like this, loved watching her br**sts bounce jauntily, loved the husky moans erupting from her throat. I grunted between clenched teeth as she paused to rotate her hips…Fuck. Then she stilled, smirking, confident of her power.

Returning that smirk, I flexed my c*ck inside her, making her groan; reminding her that I could still tease her, even without touching her. In an agonisingly slow movement, she began to rise on my cock, stopping when just the head was inside her. Then, smiling wickedly, she slammed herself down on me.

“Son of a bitch.” No longer able to hold back, I grasped her waist and began lifting my h*ps to meet her hard, fast, downward thrusts. Her head fell back as she groaned loudly. Over and over I slammed her down, not having to be gentle anymore, not having to worry about hurting her now that her strength matched mine. “Look at me while you ride me, Sam.” I had to see those gorgeous eyes; see them glazed over, giving her that sex-crazed look that always made my balls ache. With the mercury glow to her irises, the effect was even more intense.

Both our movements suddenly became more erratic, frantic even. And with me not having to hold back, this particular f**k – love or not, this here and now was a pure, hard f**k – was like none we’d had before.

Dipping her backwards, I bit down on her nipple, drawing blood and drinking it. That was when I discovered something that made me unable to pull back straight away – her blood tasted different, had a delicious syrupy quality to it that hadn’t been there before. Still, I didn’t take much, because I wanted to lift my head and stare into her eyes again. “Make me come, Sam.”

I wouldn’t have thought her bouncing could have become any harder or faster, but shit, was I wrong. Then, just as I felt her muscles beginning to flutter around my c*ck with her approaching orgasm, she bit into the crook of my neck, taking long, greedy swallows. That was it – I was gone. My cl**ax slammed into me so hard, I was surprised it hadn’t hurt. Her head fell back and her body arched as she screamed my name, shuddering with the force of her own orgasm. Then she collapsed onto me, still shaking with the aftershocks.

It was a minute or so before my brain switched back on and I could form words. “That was f**king amazing.”

“It really was,” she practically slurred.

“Your blood tastes different. And your skin.” I breezed my hand up and down her smooth, slender back. “In a good way,” I added quickly. All I got in response was a lazy, aloof ‘hmm’ sound. Apparently, she was close to nodding off. I kissed her hair. “Sleep, baby.” After the eventful evening she’d had, she definitely needed it. Me, on the other hand…I doubted I’d get to sleep any time soon. Not with how confused and anxious I still was.

The brothers were right in what they had said; what they had done to Sam had made her stronger. But, was that really a good thing?

Sam was, to my knowledge, the only hybrid in the world. Sure, people might admire and respect her for it, but these people might also want her, want to use her to create more like her. With Sam’s saliva, they could Turn humans into vampires who were as powerful as her. Yes, the brothers could do that without Sam, but only providing they could find someone as strong as her to use.

In any case, would it really be wise to create more hybrids? That would be to make them a breed in their own right. And they would become a ruling breed, without a doubt. It went without saying that the other breeds would feel threatened by this new, much more powerful breed. They might all decide that, therefore, the best thing to do would be to unite, and to kill Sam and the brothers before any more like her could be created.

Given that, maybe it would be better not to announce her new condition to others, and to instead allow people to think that her strengthening bond to me was what was making her stronger. Or something to that effect, anyway. It wasn’t like they would ever suspect the truth, because it seemed too impossible to even be true. But then, so had a Sventé with a Pagori power.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

(Sam)

Opening my eyes at dusk, I found Jared’s gaze locked on me. I didn’t get my usual boyish smile. There was a combination of adoration, mystification, and anxiety in his odd expression, making me frown. His words distracted me from quizzing him about it.

“You kicked me out of the bed in your sleep.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Say again?”

“You were mumbling something too. What was your dream about?”

Thinking hard, I quickly remembered. “The brothers. I dreamed that they’d come for me now that the changes are complete. They will, won’t they?”

“They’re eccentric enough to try. I won’t let them take you.” He ran the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone, seemingly drinking in every detail of my face like nothing else existed.

“It’s the Keja allure,” I reminded him, feeling a little sour that the person I loved was only gazing at me like that because of some preternatural enchantment.

Frowning, he shook his head. “It’s you. Just you.” He nipped my bottom lip. “You’ve never had to do anything to make me want you. It’s…almost visceral.” As if to demonstrate that, he then hooked my leg over his hip and surged inside me. Every thrust was smooth, deliberate, and sensual. Not once did he even slightly up his pace. No matter how many tricks I tried, he didn’t speed up, didn’t move harder, didn’t handle me with anything but reverence. I sensed why. He was determined to remain in total control of himself, intent on proving to me that he wasn’t swept away by any Keja allure; that he was inside me for no other reason than that he wanted to be there.

When he finally came, it was with his eyes locked tight to mine. “It’s just you,” he repeated, his voice husky. “Don’t ever doubt that.” As if to ensure that I didn’t, he did the exact same thing again in the shower. Or maybe that was just because he had an overactive libido.

It was as we sat at the breakfast bar, drinking NSTs and eating cereal, that there was a knock at the apartment door. No sooner had Jared opened it than the entire squad barged inside and piled in the kitchen. They all seemed to sag in relief when they saw I was fine. Then they were all staring, open-mouthed. Not so much in admiration of the new allure, but in surprise − despite the occasional compliment, they really thought of me as one of the boys as opposed to a woman. It had only ever been Max who behaved differently on that score.

Currently, his face was scrunched up in confusion rather than admiration. “Is this and your super strength good changes or bad changes? I mean, yeah, power’s good but for you to actually change in any way, like with the irises…” He let the sentence trail, knowing we’d get his point.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I addressed them all as I said, “I can’t say much about it. Not because I don’t trust you lot, but because − as Ryder will soon show − there are other ways of getting information from people. All I will say is that these changes will only be temporary.”

Harvey frowned. “What’s with the mercury rings to your irises anyway? Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice.” He smiled at Jared’s growl.

Sighing, I shrugged again. “No idea.” I felt bad that I had to be so secretive. This was my squad, and there had to be total trust between us all. I didn’t want that to change but if they felt slightly embittered by my failure to be totally open with them, it might just happen.

As if he had guessed my train of thought, Chico patted my back once. “Hey, we get it. You’re trying to protect us and protect yourself.” The others nodded.

“Yeah, we might not know what’s going on,” began Damien. “But it’s obvious that it’s some weird shit. Unless it’s something we need to know that you’re not telling us, then only then is it a problem for me. But I trust that you’d tell us if we did need to know.” Again, the others nodded.

I smiled at them. “Thanks for getting it.”

“So, I’m guessing Magda’s nothing but ashes now. Which one of you killed the bitch?” asked Max. When neither Jared nor I responded, he narrowed his eyes. “She’s still alive? Tell me that you guys have at least sent her packing.”

When he again received no response, each of the squad either cursed, sighed, or groaned in annoyance. Well of course they did: they all had big hard-ons for Magda − and not good ones.

“In a couple of evenings, she’ll be gone,” I stated. “I’m pretty sure she won’t bother me in the meantime. Not after what happened last night.”

Unfortunately, my words didn’t seem to have placated them. In fact, Max looked about to have an outburst. The sudden ringing of my mobile phone distracted everyone. Not in the mood to hear any of the squad rant and support Jared’s argument that she should leave, I took advantage of the distraction and quickly scarpered to the bedroom to answer my phone.

(Jared)

I sighed at Sam’s retreating back. She’d known that we would all gang up on her, attempt to pressure her into changing her mind. Luckily for her, she’d been saved by the bell − or cell, as the situation might be.

“Why are you keeping Magda around?” demanded Max in an abrasive whisper. “Please don’t tell me you still have feelings for her or something. Coach doesn’t deserve—”

I held up a hand, barely refraining from balling said hand into a fist and smashing it into the guy’s jaw. “Whoa there, Slaphead. The only thing I feel for Magda is pure and utter contempt, so get your facts straight before saying shit like that.”

“You’re saying it’s Coach who wants her to stay?” asked David. “Why?”

Realisation appeared to dawn on Chico, and he sighed tiredly. “Coach is as ruthless as they come, isn’t she?” The others all seemed to understand too…bar one.

“I don’t get it,” said Harvey. No surprise there. He was great at forming strategies, but common sense seemed to be something he lacked.

“I want her gone,” I explained, “but Sam’s determined that she stays. She wants Magda to be in close proximity when she feels the blood-link break so that she can’t escape the physical pain of it. I’ve tried talking her out of it, but Sam thinks of this as the worst possible revenge.”

“I hate to say it, but she’s right,” said Salem. I nodded, sighing.

“We’ll get going,” announced Chico. “See you later.” Giving me respectful nods, the squad then left the kitchen, heading for the front door.

Max, however, lingered. “You swear that you don’t still have feelings for Magda? That you’re not going to betray Coach like that?”

I snorted. “I’m not even going to credit that f**ked-up question with an answer. And what does any of this have to do with you anyway? Still have some delusion that you and Sam will get together?” If he did, I’d have to rid him of that very quickly.

“No.” The tension left his body, and he exhaled heavily. His tone was no longer confrontational when he spoke. “Look, I cared about her. Still do a little; I admit that. But I don’t care about her the way you do. To you, she’s all there is. For me, it was never that intense. If you want the truth, when you two got together I was more upset with myself than the situation.”

That surprised me. And confused me, actually. “With yourself?”

“Like you, I have a guard up. Don’t deny that you have it. I can see it in another person. Coach is a great girl, but I hadn’t been able to lower that guard for her. I’d wanted to, but I couldn’t. Maybe, in time, that would have happened, but maybe it wouldn’t have. And I can’t help thinking that if I can’t lower my guard for someone as great as her, then I’m never going to lower it for anyone, am I?”

Huh. I sure wouldn’t have guessed that that had been his issue. Odd how we could be similar in having a guard up like that, and yet we were still so different − unlike him, I didn’t resent the protective walls I had. Figuring honesty deserved honesty, I told him, “I’d never wanted to let my guard down, never wanted to let other people in. So maybe if letting someone in could still happen for me, it’s even more likely that it can happen for you. I know I’d never have done it for anyone other than Sam, though.”

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