Midnight Awakening(59)

His chest was heaving with every rough breath he dragged into his lungs. He stared at her from under low brows, the green of his eyes swamped completely by amber light, his pupils thinned to slivers in the center of all that fiery gold. Even in the dark, shrouded by his black combat gear, she could see that he was fully aroused. She’d felt the thick ridge of his sex pressing insistently against her in that moment before he pulled away. She knew that if she peeled off his weapons and fitted black knit shirt, she’d see his Gen One dermaglyphs churning with livid color.

He’d never looked more predatory than he did in that moment—a massive, powerful Breed male who could have her beneath him in an instant.

Faster than that, if he willed it.

Perhaps she should fear him, now more than ever. But it wasn’t fear that was making her knees feel boneless under her. It wasn’t fear sending her heart into a frantic drum in her breast.

Nor was it fear that made her fingers tremble as she slowly reached behind her to find the zipper of her confining bodice and begin to tug it down.

Before the tiny teeth had parted more than an inch, Tegan’s large hand closed around hers, stilling her. He held her there, her arm gently trapped behind her as he brought his free hand up between their bodies. His fingers moved over the detail of her gown’s low neckline, skimming the edge of dark silk that framed the tops of her breasts. There was a delicious possessiveness in his touch, in the way he restrained her while his other hand roamed freely over her body.

When he kissed her now, it was blatantly carnal, a deep claiming of her mouth that mimicked the hard thrust of his hips where they pressed against her. The hand at her back pulled her forward as his eyes snapped open on her stunned gaze, those twin amber coals commanding her to understand how close she was to the ledge of a very steep fall.

If she tumbled down with him now, there would be no coming back. He would take her body, and he would take her blood. There was no mistaking that feral promise in his eyes.

As if to drive home his point, Tegan smoothed the flat of his hand higher, up the slope of her throat. He bared her neck and bent down over her, dragging his tongue along the path of her carotid. His fangs were a subtle, but unmistakable, abrasion as his mouth moved to a tender spot just below her ear.

A tremor of uncertainty rippled through her at the thought of where this was heading, more swiftly than she’d been prepared for.

She really shouldn’t be here.

Shouldn’t be doing this…

Tegan’s chuckle sounded cruel, darkly satisfied. He released her at once, practically pushing her out of his reach.

“Go on,” he said, his voice so deep she hardly recognized it. “Get out of here before we do something we’ll both regret.”

She brought her hand up to the side of her neck, where she could still feel the lingering heat of his mouth. Her pulse was hammering now, so loud it was audible to her own ears. When she drew her fingers away from her neck, she saw that the tips bore trace stains of blood.

Dear God, had he been so close to biting her?

Tegan’s hungry gaze tracked her every movement, and he looked savage enough to pounce if she hesitated so much as a second longer.

“What are you waiting for? I said get the fuck out of here!” he bellowed, the animal snarl jolting her into action.

Elise grabbed her sandals from the floor beside her and ran out of the boathouse as fast as her feet would carry her.





Tegan dropped into the nearest chair as soon as he heard the boathouse door bang shut on Elise’s heels.

He was physically shaking from need of her, all of his Breed senses torqued off the charts with the depth of his hunger for the female.

Jesus Christ, he’d been just a fraction of a second away from sinking his fangs into her.

That unintentional graze of her skin, which brought only the faintest taste of her blood to his tongue, had practically laid him out. He shuddered from the heather-and-roses sweetness that still lingered in his mouth. His fangs throbbed, along with another part of his anatomy, both equally ravenous. Both damning him for letting Elise get away.

The only thing that had snapped him back to his wits was her sudden flood of anxiety. Through the connection of touch, he felt the jolt of fear override her desire—and not a moment too soon. She’d been too pliant, too accepting, even when he was deliberately pushing, wanting her to understand just where he wanted to take things.

Where he still wanted to take things with her.

Yeah, straight to hell, with him leading the way.

He gripped the leather arms of the club chair, digging his fingers into the supple hide to keep from vaulting to his feet and going out after her. Which was the very thing he ached to do.