Page 48 of Fangbanger
I fight a smug smile at her mention of last time. “That good, slayer?”
Her cheeks redden. “I forgot myself entirely.” Her chin sets stubbornly. “Now tighten the chains so I don’t stake you as you feed.”
“You can try.” I wink, and she glares harder. “Glare all you want. You’re the one chained to a bed.” I wag my brows, and she grumbles, but not before I see a hint of a smile on her face.
She shakes the chains. “Hurry up before I regret this. Cold silver is not comfortable.”
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter.
“This is necessary,” she counters. She grimaces as I work, clearly fighting herself.
I tighten one chain, then the other, until her arms are straight but still resting on the bed. “You’re demanding that I hurt you, and I’m refusing.”
“If only mother nature could see us now.”
I chuckle.
“Can’t say I’ve ever had a fight quite like this.” She wriggles on the bed, her underwear-clad hips drawing my eye, and my body responds.
“Me neither,” I say hoarsely. “Only with you, slayer.”
“I’m special,” she teases.
I like her teasing me. I like being the one to make her laugh.
I kneel on the mattress, then swing one leg over until I’m looking down at her. Her hair spreads like dark silk across her white pillows. Her eyes are trusting and…pleased. The bond pulses in my chest. I am in awe of her, my little mate, so strong and soft at the same time.
She tips up her chin. “Marcus,” she pleads. “Stop stalling.”
I can’t help but smile. “Come here often?”
Her mouth curls. “Only when I’m forced to.”
I rub a thumb over her lips, then shudder at the contact. I need to kiss her. It might be the only chance I get.
“What are you—”
“Let me have this,” I murmur.
She nods and her lips part under my thumb. I bend down and seal my mouth to hers.
Her lips are soft and sweet and plusher than I anticipated. I haven’t done this in years, but I have the hang of it. It feels like breathing used to feel. Natural and essential.
And then she kisses me back, and it makes my body hum with pleasure. My cock jerks against her stomach. She makes a happy sound in her throat and licks at the seam of my lips, then twines her tongue with mine. I respond with a rough sound I can’t control and grip her waist.
She deepens the kiss. I follow her eagerly, wanting to see where she leads and what lies at the end. It feels like the best present I’ll ever receive.
I test her bottom lip with a fang, pressing but not biting. It makes her gasp. Pleasure flushes hot through me. This is how it should be with a mate.
The thought rockets through me, makes me pull back
Her eyes are glazed. Her chest rises and falls in shallow pants. I pull the duct tape from my pocket before I can lose my nerve. I pull a long strip from the roll, and the tearing sound echoes in the quiet room.
“Do you trust me, Leah?”
Her eyes are huge and luminous as she nods.
I tape her mouth as gently as I can, checking that she can breathe. The whole time she grumbles at me for my patience with her, and warmth draws up in my chest. She rails against kindness, even though she herself is kind. It makes me want to draw her close to my chest, to bite her while she rests in my arms, to shelter her and never let her go.
