“Please,” she whispered. “Now.”
He disengaged his fangs and tongued the bite before saying in a voice thick with lust, “I want to satisfy you before I come.” His hand reached around her, and he rasped one finger over her swollen clit.
“Can’t… can’t… until…” Oh, God, this was good. “Until you do.”
His hand clamped down tighter on her hip. “Semen is a trigger for you?”
When she nodded, because the ability to speak had deserted her, he began a new, frenzied pumping that accompanied a roar of release. His hot seed splashed inside her, the fuel her fire required, and she joined him in a ferocious climax.
They collapsed together against the wall, his weight on hers just short of crushing. But it was a good weight, the kind she’d never taken the time to enjoy. She could only stand being touched like this for so long.
As soon as she caught her breath, she reached her threshold for intimate contact. “Get off me.”
“Your gratitude astounds me,” he said flatly, but he pushed away.
“I should be grateful that you fucked me?”
“You’re a succubus, aren’t you? You need it, right?
Some sort of biological imperative.” He tucked his semi-hard cock back in his pants.
“Ah. So you lowered yourself to service me out of the goodness of your heart. How nice. Then yes, thank you for performing this distasteful deed. I will forever be in your debt.”
He laughed. “I didn’t say I didn’t get anything out of it.”
Asshole. “You got an orgasm and blood. I’d say you got more than I did.”
“You got that right.” He winked, and suspicion bloomed. She had a sudden feeling he’d gotten even more than a moment of pleasure and sustenance. “This remains between us, right?”
“As long as you don’t piss me off,” she said as she tugged on her pants. “You gonna piss me off?”
He gave her a wolfish grin. “Every chance I get.” With that, he was gone, and once again, she was alone with her thoughts, and crazily, she felt more alone than ever.
Conall found Luc at the open rear of their rig, sitting on the step and chowing down on a very rare roast beef sandwich. So rare that blood dripped to the pavement. Con was tempted to look around for the cow it had come from, because surely it had to be close.
“Did Shade catch up with you?” Luc asked.
Shit. Did the Sem know Con had hooked up with his sister already? “No. Why?”
“Another warg was brought in on Medic Two’s last run.”
Medic Two was Shade’s ambulance with his partner, a False Angel named Blaspheme. “Same as the other two?”
“Yep. Shade wants all warg medics to stand down from calls to all warg emergencies.”
Conall swore. He hoped these cases were isolated, but he’d better inform the Warg Council as soon as possible. As a member of the Council, the lone representative for dhampires and the only councilmember employed by UG, he was duty-bound to alert them to potential trouble. Not that they’d pay heed to anything he said. In warg hierarchy, dhampires barely rated above turned wargs, and that was only because there were so few dhampires that they were no threat in any way to born wargs.
“So? What happened with Sin?” Luc cocked an eyebrow, and then the other when Conall pulled Sin’s thong from his pocket and twirled it on one finger. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “You nailed her.”
For some reason, the way Luc spoke so casually, as if Sin was some swan Conall had picked up at a vampire bar, grated on him. Probably because he respected the Sem brothers, and he couldn’t quite dismiss their sister as a cheap suck-and-fuck, even though that was how he’d treated her.
“Yeah,” he ground out, “I nailed her.”
“Where?” Luc always wanted the dirty details.
“Stockroom.” He held out his hand. “Pay up.”
Luc snorted and reached for his wallet. “I really got taken on this one, didn’t I?” He handed over four hundreds and five twenties.
“Yeah, well, you can have the last laugh once the Sem brothers catch up with me.” Con ran his thumb over the bills. “Seems she’s their sister.”
“Dude.” Luc stretched out the word and then whistled, low and long. “Nice knowing you.”
Con could take care of himself, wasn’t too worried despite what he’d said to Sin about keeping his balls, but he did like this job and didn’t want to lose it. At least, not until he got bored with it. And he would. He always did. In a thousand years he hadn’t not gotten bored with anything.
Or anyone.