Page 83 of Tempt

I can’t risk it.

Not when too much of our future is at stake.

I have to be strong, but each and every moment he is here beside me, infiltrating my mind, tempting me…it is almost too much. I never knew what it was like to have a VySytheh. As much as I loved Kori, I never truly knew something like this. And now I do.

But I cannot have him—this sweet, luscious, tender creature against me.

My human.

Mine.

My clawed fingers touch the skin of his back gently, bumping up his spine. He’s so fragile, his human skin, his human bones. I don’t want to ever see them broken and torn ever again.

It nearly killed me when I saw him injured as badly as he was.

I felt his pain as if it were my own.

And now I can feel his desire as if it is mine as well. Only it’s not just something he’s transmitting through the bond. It is not one-sided. No, it is something I feel, something I need, and it is visceral.

His hand slides up my covered chest, brushing over my adorned nipples and up my neck. They only stop when they touch the braid pushed over my shoulder.

He grunts and tugs on it, pleasure sweeping through me as he begins to rock his hips. The motion is clearly involuntary. He’s still asleep, and although I’m not peering into his head, I get flashes of his dreams.

In them, we are touching—my hands on his skin, my fangs grazing his neck, then kissing the human way, mouth to mouth. His odd, short, and blunt human tongue pulses against mine, and he moans as I wrap mine around his and…

I pull away from those images, but it doesn’t help. His cock is stirring where he’s thrusting it against me, and it becomes worse than torture when I catch the first whiff of his cum. It’s the thin, clear, early spill that precedes a true orgasm, but it’s no less sweet.

My mouth waters and the urge to roll him onto his back and take him deep into my throat is almost impossible to resist.

“Yes.”

I startle at the sound of his voice. Luca is by no means a silent person. I did not understand that, with the inability to hear, he would be so noisy, but he vocalizes as he signs—sometimes loud and every bit as bright as his personality.

But he doesn’t speak often. Only when he wants assurance that he’s being heard.

And that is clear now.

Glancing down, I see him peering up at me through his very human eyes. It’s still strange to find the white sclera and the single-colored orb in the center. The iris, humans call it, and the black dot in the center, which provides light and the ability for humans to see.

We do not have this anatomy in our eyes. It is so alien but so beautiful. I reach up, tracing a line over his cheek, imagining for a second I can feel those little spots on his skin.

Freckles, I was told. His sign name, and that is very apt. He has so many dots on his skin, and like everything else about him, they are so pretty. How I lived so long without knowing him is a mystery. How I’ve been able to resist him this long is a miracle.

And that resistance is now being held together by a single thread, weaker than a strand of hair. And when he lifts his head, and his lips meet mine…that thread snaps.

I can’t contain it any longer. My mouth presses against his, a brutal kiss. He moans, his eyes fluttering open as he takes me in. I do not hesitate, my tongue pushing against his, licking, tasting.

He gasps as my fangs brush against his lips, bruising them, and yet I cannot stop. He does not want me to. His hips are thrusting against me, one of his hands tugging on my braid, the other touching my cheek.

Our tongues do not stop their mating dance. I cannot stop. My need for him is intense.

My cocks are pushing through my slit—not fully, just the tips. My tail is sliding up his warm body, seeking his hole.

He arches back, wanting to be breached, but he is not wet. He has not had the breeding herb.

And yet he wants it desperately. I have felt it for days now, have tasted his desire, and I want it. Every part of me wants it too.

My tongue, my hands, my tail, my cocks.