Chapter 29
LEAH
“Ifear that I cannot control myself with you.”
Marcus’s words are pained, and something dangerous flickers in his gaze. He is a supernatural creature at war with himself—his clenched jaw and the corded tendon his neck belying the stillness of his posture.
The differences between us have never been more stark, and my skin prickles.
I see why so many slayers have been taken in by his kind.
His gaze is stormy and his lips are parted.
His fangs lengthen over his bottom lip. His skin seems to gleam in the soft kitchen lighting.
It looks satin-soft, especially at the hollows of his strong throat and on the flat planes of his stomach.
I know his entire being is made to lure me, and still my stomach jumps at how inhumanly attractive he is.
“Leah,” he rasps. “Say something.”
His fist clenches and unclenches. He is undone. For me.
“The bond?”
He nods, eyes dark.
It’s hard to think when he looks at me like this. The bond must be affecting me too, because my blood is humming.
“How does sealing it work?”
“You take my blood while I take yours.”
“Simple.”
He nods tightly. “Far too simple. I will try to compel you to seal it.” The words sound dragged from him. He almost sounds resentful at the thought of losing control. “It is getting worse.” The last word is ragged.
“Worse how?” I whisper.
His gaze fastens on mine. “I think of nothing but claiming you. Of hunting you. Taking you. Biting you and forcing you to bite me. It makes it hard to think. Hard to reason.” His gaze dips to my neck, and hairs go up at my nape.
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
The air pulls taut between us. I can feel his need—in the tension hanging in the air and in the bond. I delve deeper into that place in my head, and I’m walloped by the depth of it. It’s an ocean of heat and hunger.
I grip the counter. “Oh Goddess.” My pulse throbs between my legs. How does he stand this? The answer comes swiftly—he is stronger than I realize.
His frame trembles before he squares his shoulders. “Bind me.” His words are harsh.
“What? No.”
“Bind me, Leah.”
He grabs for my wrist and flashes us upstairs to my bedroom, with my giant four-poster bed and the curtains that blow in the night breeze.
He yanks open my closet door so quickly he nearly blurs. “Where are the chains?”
“No,” I snarl. Something hot pulses in my chest, behind my eyes.
In answer, he grabs the chains I pulled out the first night and starts wrapping them around his hand.
“No,” I bark. I rip them from him. He snarls again, his fangs extended before his gaze softens.
“Leah,” he pleads. His voice is edged with panic, and my stomach drops. “I will not risk you. Or this.”
I stride for the bed, determination pushing me to move faster. “And I won’t chain you when it’s the last thing you want.” I loop the chains around the post at the headboard. “Go to the box and ask it for duct tape. I’m out.”
“Duct tape?”
I slice him a glance. “Yes. The box will comply. Technically, it’s wearable. For tonight, at least.”