It happened naturally, easily, and he barely noticed the change, too focused on the feel of Seth in his hand, the smell of his mate invading his senses.
It was as easy as pressing a kiss to Seth’s skin, the way Riley’s teeth sank into Seth’s upper thigh. Coppery, orange-tinged blood filled Riley’s mouth, and he groaned around the flesh between his teeth.
Seth’s cry of pleasure was a far-off sound, secondary to the blood rushing in Riley’s ears, the feeling of falling away somewhere deep inside himself.
Riley felt the wet heat of Seth’s cum spurting over his hand, and then he was gone.
Copper.Orange.
Sweet. Salty. Rich.
Delicious.
Thiswas what they’d waited for.Thiswas what they’d been denied over and over again.
For too long they’d been subjected to puny woodland creatures and plastic bags of stale, refrigerated garbage. But no more.
There were hands in their hair, tugging and lifting. They allowed it, their tongue drifting over their lips to catch stray drops of liquid perfection.
They met his stare. Light brown. Flecks of green. Or was it vice versa?
“Oh.” Their mate’s eyes widened, his reddened lips parting in surprise. His grip on their hair loosened. “Oh. Riley?”
Yes. No. All of the above.
They said nothing. They made no gesture.
Their mate tried again. “Riley? Can you, um, hear me in there?”
They fought against that gentle hold then, long enough to dive back down and tongue at broken, bleeding skin, growling at the flavor as their saliva healed their bite marks.
They were left with a patch of perfect, unblemished skin. A shame. But there would be more bites. More marks. More opportunities to claim.
They wouldn’t be denied any longer. They’d had enough of so-called higher human reason.
The fingers in their hair tightened again, and they let themselves be tugged back. On their knees, gazing upward.
Their mate’s eyes were no longer wide but narrowed. At them. “I’m not so sure I should let you do that.”
Ridiculous words.Let. Should.They were beyond such meaningless tripe. Their lips curled into a sneer.
Need. Must.That would have been more like it.
They had more of their mate’s essence—of a different variety—covering their fingers. They busied themselves lapping it up. Salty and bitter and perfect.
The tugging in their hair increased in strength. “Up,” their mate commanded.
They stood, and while they were up there, they captured that pretty red mouth again, because it was bruised and inviting, and they wanted to share the taste they’d stolen with their beautiful mate.
He should know just how delicious he was.
Their mate sighed into the kiss. Then he stiffened, pullingback and ignoring their warning growl. He glanced down, frowning. “You’re still hard.”
Of course they were, with their mate so close, smelling of musk and salt and coppery orange. They growled again, pressing in closer, rubbing against his slender form.
They needed to merge with him, body and soul. They needed to drain him into ecstasy, and then offer their own lifeblood in return. They needed to stretch him around their cock again and again, until he knew the perfect, hedonistic joy of being worshipped by one of their kind.
They needed to bind him. Mate him. Claim him.
