Feral Darlings

Chapter Four

Emris

“ I wonder,” I continue when she doesn ’ t respond, my free hand trailing down her side, over the soft curve of her hips. God, how I have missed her softness. “ Has anyone taken care of you since I ’ ve been gone?”

The idea of another vampire touching what is mine threatens to throw me into a rage, but when I dig my fingers into her ass, she sighs.

“ Yes,” she hisses through her teeth, her breathlessness betraying just how affected she is by my touch. “ What was I supposed to do?” she asks, her voice hard and angry. “ Should I have remained celibate until you came back and stole me away again?”

The rage blooms, and the urge to sink my teeth into her right here, to claim her in front of all these humans and vampires alike, is all-consuming. I need to show them she is fucking mine. Her hands land softly on my forearms and then slowly run up the length of my arms until they ’ re resting on my biceps. There ’ s a war happening between my sweet wife ’ s brain and heart.

I was angry with her for the first twenty years or so, and I felt betrayed that she would turn me in for such a minor thing. She was my wife, after all; it ’ s not like she actually would have said no had I asked. But the insipid clan I was born into is very strict about consent. I, on the other hand, am not.

“ Paloma Marie de Loughrey,” I murmur as my fingers move to the soft belt of her robe. The knot unties easily, and her silken robe falls open, exposing her naked form to my gaze for the first time in a century. “ I have dreamed of this moment,” I confess. “ Look at you.”

Her skin is like cream, her nipples pale pink and pebbled. Her body curves in at the waist and then flares out at her hips and thighs. The soft triangle of auburn curls below her belly button makes my mouth water. I ’ ve missed her taste, her scent, her. When I ’ ve looked my fill, my eyes flick back up to hers, but she ’ s grimacing, her eyes squeezed shut like she ’ s in physical pain despite the lust that ’ s freely flowing from between her thighs.

“ Stop lying to yourself,” I snarl, years of waiting bubbling up into an uncontrollable rage. I grab her by the jaw and squeeze until she flinches in pain, her cheeks dimpled by my fingertips and her lips pursed, still bleeding from where I bit her earlier. “ I can smell it, Paloma.” My other hand pushes roughly into the apex of her plump thighs. My fingers are instantly soaked as I press them between her lips. “ And I can certainly feel it.”

My cock is raging in my trousers, all the blood I have left flowing straight to it, making it throb with the desire to be seated fully and deeply inside her tight channel.

“ Just because my body reacts doesn ’ t mean I want it,” she bites back. “ The bond—”

She gasps as I roll a knuckle around her clit.

“ You can ’ t blame all of this on the bond, little dove.” I lean forward and kiss the tip of her nose. “ You were always an eager little thing in the bedroom, weren ’ t you?” I laugh, deep and low before taking her mouth with mine again. She ’ s hard and unyielding, refusing to give me what I want. That ’ s fine. I ’ m not above taking it.

“ Because I loved you.” Her voice is pitiful as I continue to work her clit, circling it over and over until she ’ s breathless and pliant. “ That ’ s no longer the case.”

“ I don ’ t need you to love me,” I tell her, hissing as her sharp nails puncture my jacket and draw blood. Her head falls forward onto my chest, the honeyed scent of her arousal growing between us. I cannot wait to lick my hands clean of her release when she finally lets go for me. “ I just need you to come, sweetheart.” I kiss her temple softly, trying to give her the husband she ’ s always wanted, along with the man she needs.

“ Fuck you.”

I grin as I hold her tightly against me, never letting up on her clit. She ’ s close, and I want to soak up every second of it.

“ That ’ s it,” I say softly, my movements becoming faster. “ Take a deep breath. Relax and let go, little dove.” Her shoulders rise and fall as she does what I say, and then I feel her muscles stiffen. Her nails dig deeper into my flesh, and the sweetest little whimper escapes the back of her throat. She finally sags against me, and I chuckle before swooping her into my arms.

Too dazed to fight me, she wraps her slender arms around my neck as I carry her out into the open. No one pays us any mind. After all, we are in a brothel. Naked women and men are everywhere, fucking and watching, feeding and coming.

But that ’ s all about to change. Because now that I ’ m home, I need to stake my claim and introduce myself. And what better way to do that than to put on a little show?