Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  He watched the strand, and while Justice was completely accepting in this moment, the silver thread still bucked and vibrated.

  This wasn’t a natural part of her. Someone had put it here, as they had the wall around her past.

  Tentatively, Ronan reached out and brushed his essence across the thread.

  Go! Go…now!

  The presence. He’d found it, here in this strand of silver no thicker than spider silk.

  A sense of excitement rushed through him. He didn’t know if he could communicate with the being on the other end of this thread, but even if he couldn’t, he now knew what to cut to destroy the link this presence had to Justice.

  He wrapped himself around the strand and gathered a surge of power to fuel his efforts to reach the creature on the other end. “You must stop. You’re hurting her.”

  A flicker of shock vibrated through the thread, along with an acute shift in awareness.

  Whoever—whatever—it was, it was now focused completely on him.

  Who…are…you? the presence asked.

  “Ronan. Justice’s friend. What you’re doing is hurting her. You must stop.”

  Can…not. Danger. There were long pauses between the words, which were not truly words at all. They were more like momentary, flickering concepts than language, or instantaneous bursts of ideas surrounded by static.

  “What danger?” he asked.

  Coming…soon. Go!

  “I can’t wait, Ronan,” Justice said through clenched teeth. “I have to go.”

  She was suffering. Her skin was burning, and a sense of desperation circled through her mind, over and over.

  Whatever this presence was, it had the power to control her, and Ronan had no idea how to stop it.

  He caught a flicker of her thoughts. She’d been sure he could help her—so sure she’d bargained with her blood. But he’d failed, and now disappointment battered her hope until it cowered back in its box, defeated.

  “You have no right to control her!” he all but shouted at the presence.

  Need.

  Fury blasted through him as the flickering word filled Justice’s head. He didn’t give a fuck what this creature needed. All he cared about was Justice—her comfort, her needs.

  He wasn’t as strong as he had been when he’d entered her mind. Every moment he was here expended precious energy. Still, he had to try something. He couldn’t let Justice lose hope in him. He couldn’t face her if he failed.

  He curled himself around that knotted, jerky strand and poured every bit of magic he could spare into severing it.

  Heat blasted out of him, so strong Justice gasped. He could feel the presence retreating, lurching back away from the heat he shoved into the silver thread.

  Retreat wasn’t enough. He needed to sever the tie between them. Destroy it utterly.

  As far as he could see in either direction, the strand began to turn a fiery red. Sparks flew up from it. The tangled knots quivered and hissed.

  In the distance, he felt, more than heard, the presence scream in pain. It was long and high, like the dying howl of an animal. And then it stopped.

  The silver thread crumbled to ash.

  He felt as though he could do the same. He was brittle and weak from his efforts, with barely enough energy left to return to his own body.

  The trip home was long and exhausting. When he finally landed in his own skin, all he could feel was hunger.

  He opened his eyes to find Justice staring at him with tears behind her lashes. He was sprawled back on the couch with her straddling his lap. Her expression was an odd mix of fear and gratitude he was too spent to understand.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft and urgent.

  He couldn’t speak. Not yet. He wasn’t yet settled in his own mind, much less in control of his speech. All he could do was let out what he hoped was an affirmative grunt.

  He was alive. Weak. Starving. Spent. But alive.

  “You did it,” she whispered. Tears pooled in her eyes before spilling down onto her smooth cheeks. “The compulsion is gone. I’m free.”

  The smile she gave him was soggy, but beautiful. He’d never seen anything like it before and knew that he’d go through hell itself to see it again.

  Hunger raged in his guts. He needed to sleep and block it out. There wasn’t time before dawn to go hunting, and Justice had already given him so much. His only choice was to sleep through the worst of his pain and pray for sunset to come quickly.

  Justice cupped his face in her hands. “I know what you did cost you. I can see your hunger blazing in your eyes. Let me feed you.”

  He wanted nothing more, and with each passing second, he was forgetting why it wasn’t a good idea.

  “No,” he croaked out. “I’ll sleep.”

  She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and peeled the collar away to expose the delicate curve of her throat.

  “After what you did for me, I’m not letting you go to bed hungry. I promise to hydrate while you sleep.”

  Her vow was light and fragile, but as weak as he was, he still felt it settle heavily over his shoulders.

  He wasn’t going to be able to resist her. He was too hungry and exhausted. All he could do now was use what little willpower he had left to keep from taking too much, because once her blood began flowing into his mouth, he knew he’d never want to stop.

  Justice lowered herself so that her pulse was aligned over his lips. She pulled her springy curls out of the way and whispered, “Drink.”

  ***

  Justice felt the moment Ronan gave into his hunger. There was a subtle shift in him that she could smell, like he’d become a little less man and a little more animal. Less thought, more emotion. Less logic, more passion.

  She loved it.

  There was a thrill in pushing him over the edge, in tempting him beyond his ability to resist. It made her feel desired and indestructible all at the same time, like some kind of goddess.

  She knew he was worried about taking too much of her blood, but if he could feel what she did, he’d know his worry was a waste of time.

  From the second his teeth pierced her skin, through the ferocious suckling against her neck, to the final moments, when he grudgingly pulled away from her, she felt powerful, filled with a shimmering kind of magic.

  And now, she was free. No one was making her do anything. She was her own person, able to make her own decision and do as she pleased.

  What she really wanted to do was Ronan.

  She held his head against her throat as he fed and dug her fingers through this thick, silky hair. A rush of pleasure sped through her veins and vibrated through her bones. She quivered everywhere, like the sun was tickling her skin with warm fingers.

  That’s what he did to her when he drank her blood. He turned her into pure sensation and made her fly.

  She felt his body change beneath her as he fed. His muscles filled out and hardened. His lethargy disappeared and he gripped her like he’d never let her go.

  Between her spread thighs, his cock swelled and jerked. She could feel its hard length rubbing against her as she squirmed for deeper contact—the kind of contact she was only going to be able to get if they were both wearing a lot less clothes.

  She shoved her hands between them to open his jeans. He grabbed her tighter and let out a growl of warning.

  “I’m not trying to get away,” she told him, panting. “I’m just trying to get more.”

  His tongue swirled across her neck. A warm tingle bubbled over the twin wounds, sealing them closed. He lifted his head and stared at her with eyes that glowed a feral blue.

  “I’ll give you more,” he said. “All you can take.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was more than ready to find out.

  He kicked the coffee table hard. The few trinkets atop it clattered against the wall. The wood splintered against the stone fireplace. A second later, he flung her down onto the floor where the table had ju
st been and pinned her there with his big body.

  A shiver cascaded down her limbs, stealing her strength.

  Sharp claws extended from his fingertips. He slid one down the center of her body, splitting open her clothing as he went. Her skin wasn’t so much as scratched, but the fabric gave way and fell open to reveal a line of bare skin from her throat, down to her mound.

  But he wasn’t done yet.

  Ronan grabbed the severed edges of her shirt and ripped them open until her breasts were bare and the tattered remains of flannel hung off her arms. Then he moved lower and pulled her jeans and shoes off in one clean move.

  The blue glow from his eyes slid over her body, and she was sure she could feel the heat of it kiss her skin.

  “Your turn,” she said in a shaky voice.

  A wicked grin lifted one corner of his beautiful mouth, then he stood and stripped out of his clothing so fast his motions blurred.

  When he was done, he stood still for a moment, letting her drink him in.

  The sheer male wonder of him left her speechless. He was perfect everywhere, lean and hard, rippling with muscles. His cock was long and thick and jutted out from his body like a dare—one she was more than willing to take.

  He lowered himself over her, nudging her thighs open as he settled between them. His gaze was fixed on her face, alternating between her eyes and her mouth as if he couldn’t decide which he liked more.

  His skin against hers drove her wild. His bare chest teased her breasts with every breath they took and made her nipples stand up and ache. The scent of his body so close to hers made her head spin. Her pussy clenched and ached, and each time she wiggled to try to ease it, she felt a slick wetness building there.

  He gave her all his weight, pinning her in place. The hard length of his erection pressed against her belly, and she knew that if she could just get him to lift up a little, she could find a way to get him inside her.

  Normally, he wasn’t overly warm, but right now, he was putting off waves of heat so intense, she thought she could see them shimmering in the light. But when his mouth met hers, she wasn’t thinking about anything at all.

  He forced her lips open to invade her mouth. The taste of her blood was on his tongue, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she found it sweet and spicy.

  Her hands roamed his back as she memorized every hard ridge and deep hollow. The line of his spine alone was a work of art, though she’d much rather feel it under her fingertips than look at it.

  Ronan lifted his head to speak. His face was flushed and that feral light was still burning in his eyes.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he said, his words a near growl. “If that’s not what you want, then you’d better say so now, because once I start, you won’t be able to stop me until I’ve had all of you.”

  Her chin lifted. “If I want to stop you, I will. I’m a big girl,” she said. “You don’t scare me.”

  He grinned, but it wasn’t a comforting sight. It was the grin of a wolf spotting prey. His teeth lengthened to fangs and a flare of light spilled from his eyes. “Brave. Not smart, but brave.”

  Then he lowered his head to the curve of her breast, above her heart, and slid those sharp fangs into her skin.

  Pain and pleasure swirled together until she couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began. She didn’t understand why his feeding on her blood felt so fucking good—why it lit up her cells until they were dancing in ecstasy. All she knew was that she never wanted him to stop.

  The familiar tingle of healing shimmered under his mouth, then his tongue cleaned away every trace of blood before he moved to her other breast. Again, his teeth bit into her, and again she gasped in a mix of pleasure and pain.

  His fingers stroked her nipples, flicking and twisting as he fed. She wanted his mouth there too, but then she wanted his mouth everywhere.

  As if he read her mind, he healed his bite and drew the peak of her breast into his hot mouth.

  Lights danced behind her closed lids. As much as she’d enjoyed his fingers, they’d been a paltry substitute for his skilled lips and tongue. Soon she was panting and shaking, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her body.

  Lust prowled just beneath her skin, growing more hungry and desperate with every passing second. She wanted to flip him over and mount him, to ride him until she tamed her wild need, but he was too strong. Every time she tried to shift his weight, he bore down on her with his, pinning her right where he wanted her.

  When she didn’t think she could take any more of his loving torture, he moved down her body, pushing her thighs wide as he went. His big hands were pale on her dark thighs as he held them open for his gaze.

  “Such a pretty pussy,” he purred. “I bet you’re as tasty here as you are everywhere else.”

  Before she could formulate any kind of response—coherent or otherwise—his mouth covered her sex and his tongue set her world spinning.

  She knew what a clitoris was. She knew she had one. She also knew that when she touched it, it felt nice. What she didn’t know was that she’d been doing it all wrong, because nice did not even begin to describe what Ronan was doing to her now.

  He was a magician, an artist. He worked some kind of dark sorcery over her that made her whole world collapse into the tiny space where his tongue met her tight bundle of nerves. She had no clue what it was he did, but she knew that if he kept doing it for just a few more seconds, she was going to lose her fucking mind from the pleasure.

  Before she could, he stopped. His fingertips petted her as if soothing her heated flesh.

  “Do you want more?” he asked, his smug tone telling her he already knew the answer to that question.

  “You know I do.”

  “That’s good. I like you wanting like this. Panting and desperate, your hungry pussy dripping in anticipation.”

  She bucked her hips in an effort to get more pressure, but he was too fast for that. He pulled his hand away and deprived her of what she needed most.

  “Tease.”

  “Hardly. I’m going to give you everything you want.” He kissed the inside of her thigh, nipping at the skin, but not breaking it.

  Justice’s body clenched so hard, it shoved the air from her lungs. “When?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he found the pulse running along the inside of her thigh and scraped his fangs over it.

  The need roiling inside Justice shifted, swirled and mixed. She could no longer tell if she wanted him to feed from her or fuck her.

  “Both,” she gasped. “I want both.”

  He froze, and that alone told her he knew what she meant.

  Of course, he knew. He’d been so deep inside her mind he was practically part of her.

  “Mixing sex and blood is dangerous,” he warned. “I could lose control.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  He peered up at her from between her splayed thighs. Blue light from his eyes spilled over her belly and breasts. “No, you aren’t. I love that about you.” He prowled up her body on all fours until his face was even with hers. “Be sure.”

  “Shut up and fuck me,” she said.

  Ronan’s demeanor shifted, going darker. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head aside to bare her throat to him. His hips aligned with hers and the head of his cock slid along her labia, opening her slightly.

  Everything inside of her held its breath in anticipation. She needed so badly, she ached. She was desperate for him to fill her, fuck her, bleed her.

  There was a flicker of a presence inside her mind—his presence. He was with her to witness her need, and because of that, she felt it the moment he decided to take what she offered.

  He moved, and in one blinding second, his erection glided up into her as his fangs pierced her skin.

  She was filled, completely, utterly filled. He was in her mind, in her body. His cock was deep inside her, stretching her to make room for more. His teeth slid from her skin as his mouth worked against her neck. Each stroke,
each sucking pull drove her higher, and in seconds, she was overwhelmed by it all.

  Justice detonated. Pleasure unlike anything she could have imagined poured into her and flooded her. Every nerve strained to soak it all in. Every cell shuddered at the force of it. She could hear herself scream but couldn’t do anything to stop it. Her body was no longer her own.

  It was Ronan’s.

  Maybe it always had been. Maybe that’s why she’d never before felt torn apart and put back together again, all at the same time. Only he could drive her to this magical place.

  When she was certain that the sheer physical joy he gave her would kill her, it started to fade. She slipped down slowly on shuddering waves of warmth, only to be brought back up again every time his cock slid deep.

  His mouth covered hers, and only then did she realize he’d stopped feeding. His kisses tasted like sweet spice and need—his need.

  She stared up at him, loving the way the tendons in his neck stood out, the way his broad shoulders blocked out the world and all its problems. She loved the power of his body and the way each thrust of his hips did something inside of her to make her feel like she was glowing.

  Justice levered herself up enough to kiss his chest. His skin was taut and smooth and smelled amazing, like leather and midnight. She opened her mouth to taste him, and it was even better than she could have imagined. Earthy heat met her tongue and made her teeth tingle.

  She wanted to bite him. Taste his blood as he did hers. Just a little. Just enough to carry him with her.

  Hope was right. The idea was not disgusting. It was compelling, consuming.

  Her teeth scraped the skin over his heart.

  His muscles clenched and he let out a strangled noise of lust. Within her, his cock jerked and swelled until she felt stretched to the limit.

  He wanted this, too, she realized. He wanted her to bite him.

  She increased the pressure of her teeth on his skin, but before she could draw blood, he circled her neck with his hand and pushed her back to the floor.

  “You must not take my blood.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he flipped her over onto her stomach, pulled her up to her knees, and buried his cock within her in one smooth stroke.