Page 146 of Hunted

I blink. ‘I smell right?’

‘Better than right.’ His voice drops, roughening. ‘What did you do?’

‘I told you. Shower. Then ate the juiciest steak known to humankind. Remind me to thank the chef⁠—’

Strong hands shackle my waist.

He lifts me clean off the floor.

My squeal is undignified as the world blurs and the air snaps cold. One stomach-flipping heartbeat later, we’re in a private room, dark-panelled and soundproofed. Clearly the Tower has rooms specifically designed for vampires to lose their minds without witnesses.

Valentin sets me down, uncaring that my Mercy Pin is already at his throat.

Yeah, I don’t like being taken by surprise.

He crowds in, inhaling like my scent is an addiction and he’s starving.

‘Gods,’ he mutters, then groans, low and involuntary, his body grinding against mine like he can’t help it. ‘Tell me you did not do this on purpose.’

‘The weapon at your throat?’

‘Your fucking scent, hunter.’

I should answer.

I can’t.

Because a tiny bead of blood has welled where my pin nicked his throat, and I’m watching it swell with an absurd craving to lick it.

Taste it.

Instead, my mouth finds his with a helpless little groan.

The kiss is torrid from the first second. Teeth. Tongue. Filthy urgency. His hands are everywhere: waist, throat, hips, dragging me closer like he’s trying to climb inside my skin. He mutters things against my mouth that make my pulse jump and my pussy clench, words that feel like claims even when he doesn’t name them.

I want to rip off every item of clothing I put on ten minutes ago, and climb him like a fucking tree while sucking the bead of blood from his throat.

I want to turn back time and impale myself on his massive cock. Ride him until I go blind.

I want⁠—

‘Sire.’

Malachi’s voice cuts through the room like a blade.

Valentin stiffens, mouth still at my throat, breath hot against my skin, hard body pressed to mine as if stopping is an insult.

‘Speak,’ he commands quietly.

‘Rafael Navarro has arrived.’

Netheris fire.

Valentin’s whole body tightens. Fury rolls through him like a storm held behind glass.

He pulls back just enough to look at my face, eyes silver-rimmed and dangerous.

I know what he’s thinking.