Nibbled by the Vamp(14)

Pushover that she was, Wren opened for him, let him in to taste and she sought out his flavors in return. She moaned and slumped against his body, reveling in his closeness.

Griffin cupped the back of her head and held her still as he plundered her mouth.

With his closeness, his touch, arousal grew. Need that had been missing for weeks flared to life and consumed her. Her pussy dampened, an ache building between her thighs and her clit throbbed, desperate for his touch.

She moaned against his lips, groaning when one of his fangs scraped her sensitive flesh and the coppery tang of blood slithered over her tongue. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a bit of it in return. Yeah, it was jacked up that she got hot at the thought of lapping his blood.

“Ahem.”

Wren pushed inexplicably closer, wanting to climb him like Mount Everest and plant her flag to claim him. Her nipples hardened at the thought of Griffin belonging to her. Maybe she’d get lucky and she wouldn’t be able to kick her addiction…

“Ahem.” Lynn paused. “Cough, cough? Wren?”

Eventually, the vampire eased his aggressive hold, pulling his mouth from hers and she followed him, straining to maintain their connection.

Okay. Tory’s addiction idea was spot-fucking-on.

Griffin returned to press a rough kiss to her lips and then put distance between them. “Your friend is speaking to you, little bird.”

She opened a single eye, and then the other. “Huh?”

“Your friend needs you.” A smirk played at his lips and she glared at him.

Poking her head out, she glared at Lynn. “What?”

Her vamp stroked her back, hand sliding higher to knead the tense muscles of her neck. She sighed, eyes drifting closed once again.

Really. This was too freaky for words. But if it meant sexy-times with Griffin and a reprieve from feeling shit-tastic, she’d take it.

“Sorry. What’d you need?”

Her assistant’s eyes widened as she looked from Wren to Griffin and back again. “Uh, just wondering if you were okay. This guy is freakishly scary and where’s Mister Pinxton and…”

“The pix—he won’t be back. We weren’t a good fit.”

Griffin leaned toward her, lips brushing her ear. “We need to leave here, little bird.” The vampire’s erection twitched against her stomach and her thoughts joined him on the let’s-get -horizontal train.

“Anyway. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. It’s Friday. Enjoy your weekend and I’ll see you Monday.”

“You sure?”

Griffin’s hand retraced its path, continuing down her body and cupping her ass, squeezing her plump flesh and sending a bolt of arousal through her, stoking the fire of need.

“Yeah. Totally.”

The minute they were alone once again, Wren reached up and yanked Griffin down to her, plastering her lips against his in a fierce, bruising kiss. Before he could take control, she released. “We need privacy. You’ve got some serious shit to explain and then you’re going to fuck me. The sequence is negotiable.”





Chapter Four





Griffin drew Wren into his home, closing the door behind them with a soft click as she wandered deeper into his space. He tried to see the place through her eyes, gaze passing over the antiques he’d acquired through his life. History played out before him: paintings, tables and sculptures showing his accumulated centuries.

Wren moved through the living room, fingers trailing over the Georgian side table and on to his decidedly modern couch. He could appreciate the originals, but there was nothing more comfortable than a plush leather sofa.

She dropped her purse onto the seat and then her steps took her to the other side of the open space, body inches from the floor to ceiling windows that revealed the city below. His condo provided him with a safe haven from the Broken that lurked in the night. After every relocation, he employed the local witches to safeguard his home. Nothing Other would breach his space and interrupt their coming confrontation.

And he had a feeling it would involve roaring…on both their sides.

Griffin tossed his keys and wallet onto the table, then hung his jacket in the closet before approaching Wren. His Fire. There and in the flesh. He hadn’t believed Brom’s words at first, arguing that a vampire’s other half was merely a legend, a forgotten memory and simply the Broken’s excuse to pervert humans.

But he stood before the very proof of their existence.

He stopped mere inches from his other half, inhaled her delicate scent and noted that she carried pieces of his essence within her flavors.

A single hand, seeming out of his control, reached up and stroked the gentle slope of her neck. He traced the delicate lines of her veins to her shoulder and on to her wrist before twining his fingers with hers.