Bite Marks (The Lycans 5)

I ran the tip of a digit over the small scrape on my flesh. A bruise surrounded the small wound, the light-blue and red coloring standing out brilliantly against my pale flesh.

A flair of anger and… something darker flashed through me.

The asshole had bitten me hard enough he broke my skin, and not only that, he gave me a hickey.

And as I pulled back and kept staring at my reflection, taking in how pink my cheeks were, how blown my pupils were, a sense of hollowness and desperation… of just wanting to cry filled me.

Because I felt like I was at a loss of control. It was like I didn’t know who this woman was, or why she was the way she was. It was exhausting thinking something was wrong with you and questioning why you couldn’t feel pleasure from another’s touch.

But then to finally feel sensations and emotions that you’d otherwise thought were elusive and everything opened up. The sky poured down rain, the oceans overflowed, and it all settled into this perfect, harmonious sensation that kept growing so strong that you knew, just knew there would never be a way to go back.

I closed my eyes and braced my hands on the sink. Was I losing my mind? Did I need to speak to a professional? Why am I like this?

But all those thoughts were pushed aside when I opened my eyes again and stared at the side of my throat.

The very sight—idea—that he’d sucked on my neck, broken my skin, shouldn't have made me feel the way I did.

Turned on.

4

Adryan

I was a male who liked putting the fear of their god into my enemies, letting them truly see the cold, heartless bastard I was. I got off on it and could imagine what that rush would feel like when I climaxed for the first time with my fated female.

I wanted to see the fear of their god reflected back from their eyes as I slowly grinned, letting them know how badly they’d fucked up… and how much I’d rectify that in my favor.

I hadn’t become the leader of the American Vampire Clan because I was a pussy. I made sure my reputation went far and wide, covering the States, branching up to Canada, down to the islands, and even had connections and bases set up in Europe, Asia, and down through Africa.

I set my base operations in the heart of Ryeka, New York, an overpopulated city of almost eight million inhabitants. The city was perfect for my many legal businesses—restaurants, nightclubs, massage parlors, and an array of other ventures that went hand in hand with my less than legitimate operations—money laundering, extortion, racketeering, and then the most entertaining activities… killing the motherfuckers who crossed me.

I was known as the most bloodthirsty vampire for a reason.

A killer without remorse, a sadist who gorged on the blood of those who crossed me. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted it.

Some said I was fucked in the head. Crazy. A sociopath. A psycho who had no regard for life, human or Otherworld alike. I didn’t correct them because there was nothing to correct.

I feared nothing and no one. I took my enemies’ weakness and twisted it, warped it, and used it against them, made them beg and cry before I finally ended their pathetic life.

If I’d been able to get an erection before finding my mate, hurting my enemies and hearing their pleas would have had my cock hard as fuck, no doubt.

But right now I let the darkness cover me for another reason.

To watch my female.

To let myself bask in the beauty that she was. And gods, she was gorgeous, all pale skin like the silvery moonlight, all long, lithe limbs, perfectly sized breasts, and feminine curves. She made my mouth water as if I hadn’t drank deeply in ages and the only thing that could satiate me was her.

My fangs tingled and ached, elongated so much I could barely close my mouth. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, over and over again, her blood long gone, but I still tasted her, a flavor that was in every cell of my body now, forever—eternally—imprinted in me.

Gods, she was sweet, like the finest, rarest wine that had ever covered my tongue. My A-positive little human was the sweetest thing I’d ever fucking tasted.

I kept to the shadows, staying hidden even though I’d never cared about being seen. Every depraved part of my bastardly soul demanded I break into her house, tear the clothes from her body, and claim what was rightfully mine. And that was every single perfect inch of her.

She was mine by fate, my destiny… my possession to do with as I fucking pleased.

But I didn’t want to frighten her… didn’t want her to see herself as something I owned. And as weird as it was for me to think, let alone feel, I wanted her to want to be with me, not out of fear, not because she was my prisoner, but because she needed me as intrinsically as I needed her.