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Authors: Mandy M. Roth
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He’d brought his fingers to his lips, savoring her wetness, forever committing the taste of her pussy to memory.
The man and whatever else it was he really carried deep within him would never be free from desiring her. She appealed to him on all levels. Something no one else had ever done—human or demon.
Kit could have mesmerized her. It wasn’t as if such a thing was beyond his abilities. No. He was the son of a vampire and a slayer union. Enthralling humans was as easy as drawing in air. Many a time, he’d taken women into the back corners of his club, drank from them while clouding their minds, making them think they were being fucked thoroughly, when in reality, he was handling his basic need—blood. It was something he required but not something he needed daily. Monthly was enough for his needs but every now and then, he drank just because he could and he liked the rush that fresh blood gave him. It heightened his senses.
His father had cautioned him, warning of the gifts he’d been born with. Kit had ignored his father’s lectures, focusing only on the power he had at his fingertips.
That was then.
Years and hard life lessons had taught him what his father had tried to spare him. Enthralling wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted something real between he and a woman. He wanted that with Marcy. More than he wanted anything else in the world.
Besides, she seemed almost immune to the parts of him women normally swooned over. Marcy never got lost in his gaze. She never shivered under the weight of his touch. In fact, she pushed him away and left him standing in a state of need the one and only time they’d been intimate. Maybe that was part of the allure. The thrill of wanting what he couldn’t have.
No.
Kit wanted her equally as bad when he still thought he had a chance.
The song playing in the club was by a band Kit didn’t really care for but Marcy seemed to like. To him, they were rather mallcore-ish. Certainly lacking the hard edge he preferred his metal to have. She moved to the beat, her lush hips grinding with precision.
Kit’s throat went dry as Marcy thumped her body against nothing but air. He could almost feel her above him, riding him to the brink of culmination.
Focus.
He turned with the intent to get a drink. Spotting his longtime friend, Blake Torres, Kit knew he was in for a nonstop teasing about his infatuation with Marcy. Everyone but her seemed to figure out Kit was obsessed with her. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet or not.
Blake, or Torres, as he preferred to be called, lifted a dark brow and glanced out at the dance floor. “Planning on talking to her tonight or just staring a hole clean through her?”
Oh, he wanted to be in a hole, preferably any one of the three Marcy possessed. Didn’t matter which. He wasn’t a picky man. Just a horny one.
Kit brushed past his friend and motioned to the bartender. Within seconds, he had a cold beer in his hand and was slinging it back, gulping in hopes of quenching his thirst for Marcy.
It didn’t work. Nothing ever did.
Torres laughed. The sound was laced with power. Kit wasn’t the only male who called these parts home who was more than human. Torres had his fair share of secrets, as well. He didn’t question Kit and Kit made a point to avoid asking Torres anything too specific. Some things were better left unknown.
Torres fetched a drink of his own before coming to oversee the dance floor with Kit. Marcy continued her seductive dance, ignoring everyone around her. It was if she were lost in the music.
“You know, she is not what I pictured you falling for,” Torres said, taking a sip of his drink. “I thought you’d end up with someone more like you.”
Kit knew what his friend meant. He was certainly all around harder than Marcy. In more ways than one. Not only was he almost a foot taller than her and at least a hundred pounds heavier, he was covered in piercings and tattoos. She had a few miscellaneous
The man and whatever else it was he really carried deep within him would never be free from desiring her. She appealed to him on all levels. Something no one else had ever done—human or demon.
Kit could have mesmerized her. It wasn’t as if such a thing was beyond his abilities. No. He was the son of a vampire and a slayer union. Enthralling humans was as easy as drawing in air. Many a time, he’d taken women into the back corners of his club, drank from them while clouding their minds, making them think they were being fucked thoroughly, when in reality, he was handling his basic need—blood. It was something he required but not something he needed daily. Monthly was enough for his needs but every now and then, he drank just because he could and he liked the rush that fresh blood gave him. It heightened his senses.
His father had cautioned him, warning of the gifts he’d been born with. Kit had ignored his father’s lectures, focusing only on the power he had at his fingertips.
That was then.
Years and hard life lessons had taught him what his father had tried to spare him. Enthralling wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted something real between he and a woman. He wanted that with Marcy. More than he wanted anything else in the world.
Besides, she seemed almost immune to the parts of him women normally swooned over. Marcy never got lost in his gaze. She never shivered under the weight of his touch. In fact, she pushed him away and left him standing in a state of need the one and only time they’d been intimate. Maybe that was part of the allure. The thrill of wanting what he couldn’t have.
No.
Kit wanted her equally as bad when he still thought he had a chance.
The song playing in the club was by a band Kit didn’t really care for but Marcy seemed to like. To him, they were rather mallcore-ish. Certainly lacking the hard edge he preferred his metal to have. She moved to the beat, her lush hips grinding with precision.
Kit’s throat went dry as Marcy thumped her body against nothing but air. He could almost feel her above him, riding him to the brink of culmination.
Focus.
He turned with the intent to get a drink. Spotting his longtime friend, Blake Torres, Kit knew he was in for a nonstop teasing about his infatuation with Marcy. Everyone but her seemed to figure out Kit was obsessed with her. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet or not.
Blake, or Torres, as he preferred to be called, lifted a dark brow and glanced out at the dance floor. “Planning on talking to her tonight or just staring a hole clean through her?”
Oh, he wanted to be in a hole, preferably any one of the three Marcy possessed. Didn’t matter which. He wasn’t a picky man. Just a horny one.
Kit brushed past his friend and motioned to the bartender. Within seconds, he had a cold beer in his hand and was slinging it back, gulping in hopes of quenching his thirst for Marcy.
It didn’t work. Nothing ever did.
Torres laughed. The sound was laced with power. Kit wasn’t the only male who called these parts home who was more than human. Torres had his fair share of secrets, as well. He didn’t question Kit and Kit made a point to avoid asking Torres anything too specific. Some things were better left unknown.
Torres fetched a drink of his own before coming to oversee the dance floor with Kit. Marcy continued her seductive dance, ignoring everyone around her. It was if she were lost in the music.
“You know, she is not what I pictured you falling for,” Torres said, taking a sip of his drink. “I thought you’d end up with someone more like you.”
Kit knew what his friend meant. He was certainly all around harder than Marcy. In more ways than one. Not only was he almost a foot taller than her and at least a hundred pounds heavier, he was covered in piercings and tattoos. She had a few miscellaneous
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