“Yeah,” he rasped. “Fuck, yeah.”

She dragged her finger down his chest, made a playful flick at his waistband, and then took off in a dead run. A few yards away, she cast him a sultry glance over her shoulder… and his prey drive activated. He caught her as she wove between the fir trees and he took her down to the fluffy snow. Once down, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she flipped him so he was on his back, and though it was freezing, he wasn’t cold at all as she tore open his pants and released his raging erection.

Then she stood, peeled off her pants. The sight of her straddling him, her sex spread and glistening, nearly made him come. “You need to feed, don’t you?”

“I can’t.” His voice cracked humiliatingly. “Not from you.”

“You don’t have to drink. I just want to feel your fangs in me one more time.”

“Sin,” he groaned, but he couldn’t deny her, and besides, this would be the last time. After this, he’d go to Scotland and never see her again, so her life wouldn’t be in danger—from him, at least, and eventually, his cravings for her blood would die.

Though he knew his desire for hernever would.

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” she whispered.

He groaned again, and as she walked up his body, his breath grew hot. Strangled. And as she lowered herself, he stopped breathing altogether.

His hands actually shook as he cupped her gorgeous ass to hold her steady. She put her sex against his mouth and he kissed her, pure heaven. Then he penetrated her with his tongue, wielding it as he would his cock for a few strokes before swiping the flat of his tongue up her valley.

“God, that’s good,” she rasped, even as she shifted her weight to put her femoral artery over his mouth. He could still taste her, and as his fangs unsheathed, he allowed himself one more quick taste, a flick of his tongue over her clit.

Then he sank his teeth into her thigh, relishing the spill of her lifeblood into his mouth. Her spicy taste mingled with that of her arousal, and his hips began to pump of their own accord, seeking the place his tongue had just been.

Sin’s blood hit his bloodstream like a shot of heroin, both satisfying his hunger for her and intensifying it, strengthening his addiction to her. At the same time, her incubus pheromones hit him, and his erotic hunger warred with his blood hunger. She moaned, tipping the scales. Thank the gods he’d fed this way, because he’d have to stop feeding to fuck her. Had he taken her by the throat or wrist, stopping might be impossible.

Reluctantly, he disengaged his fangs, licked the punctures slowly, and continued the journey to her sex. Gently, he spread her, speared her with his tongue, and let her ride him until her desire forced her to take more aggressive action.

She tore away from him and backed down his body, dragging her mouth over his chest, abs, until his shaft slid between her lips. Holy damn, that was good. Her tongue flicked over the head of him, and then she took him deep. The sucking sensation was exquisite, and he had to pant through the pleasure to keep from coming. Finally she lifted her mouth away, but before she seated herself, she scooped some snow.

He arched an eyebrow, and she gave him the wickedest smile he’d ever seen as she formed a small, loose ball. He nearly swallowed his tongue when she spread herself with her fingers and inserted the snowball into her core. Jesus. He’d done a lot in his thousand years, but this? This was a first.

Taking his shaft in her hand, she guided his cock inside her. She was slick, hot, and when the head of him kissed the ice, the erotic contrast made him hiss in pleasure. Slowly, she rocked back and forth, and though her feet and legs had to be freezing, she didn’t complain. Didn’t seem to notice. Each downward stroke gave him that a-fucking-mazingmix of hot and cold, and each time he struck the snowball, she whimpered.

“Where… ah, yeah, right there… did you learn that?”

Leaning forward, she brushed her cold lips across his. “I slept with this pack of ice trolls once, and—” At his insanely jealous curse, she laughed, a pure, tinkling sound. “I’m kidding. It was just a sudden flash of brilliance.” She sat up on him again, closed her eyes, and threw her head back. The slender arch of her body was a graceful line against the wild backdrop of the trees and distant mountains, and once again, the wolf in him howled. “I never get to play like that.”

With a tortured groan, he gripped her hips and guided her faster. “Play all you want.” And then it struck him; she wouldn’t play like this again. She’d be back to screwing males because her body demanded it, back to hating who and what she was.

And the idea that she would be screwing any male other than him put acid in his stomach and a serrated growl in his throat.

“I love it when you growl like that,” she breathed. “Mmm… Con…”

Despite his possessive fury, hearing his name on her lips sent him over the edge, and his climax blasted through him. He bucked hard, his hips coming out of the snow. Sin cried out, but he slipped his palm into her mouth, and she bit down, muffling the shout that might have attracted attention from the medical team still combing the area for the dead and injured.

The erotic pinch of pain set Con off again, igniting a chain reaction in her and a series of orgasms that kept milking him, dragging out his orgasm for so long he thought he might have blacked out.

Gradually, she sank down on him so they were chest to chest, her face buried in his neck, and even though they were half-dressed, lying in the freezing snow, this somehow felt like the most intimate position—and situation—they’d been in. He could hold her like this forever.

Or, at least, until they either froze to death or Eidolon found them and killed Con.

“I’ve always been quiet during sex,” she murmured.

“Sweetheart, you just defined the term ‘screaming orgasm.’ ” He felt her smile against his skin, but he couldn’t find anything amusing about it. This was just one more example of how he’d broken through her shell, and probably not for the better. And wasn’t he a massive ball of indecision? Because he couldn’t decide if it was best for her to feel again or not. She needed to be happy, to have a family. But she also needed to protect herself.

He sighed, and Sin joined him. “I know,” she murmured. “We need to get back to the cabin.”

“I’d give anything to be able to make love to you without worrying about what’s next,” he said, kissing her neck lightly. “To just lounge around and do nothing but touch you. Feed you. Watch movies.”

She chuckled. “Sounds so normal. I wouldn’t know what to do.” She lifted her head, stared into his eyes, and her smile faltered. “What if… What if I could get out of my commitment to the Assassin’s Guild?”

Grief hollowed out his chest, turning it into a bottomless pit as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. Even if she could get out of it, he couldn’t get out of his own obligations. And he definitely couldn’t risk hurting or even killing Sin. “Don’t. Let’s not go there.”

She nipped the pad of his finger. “Come visit me. You can come to the den—”

“Sin…”

“Please.” The strain in her voice matched the pain in her eyes. “I’m not… I’m not ready to give you up.”

God, his heart broke wide open, and he heard himself reply with a serious disconnect between his mouth and his brain. “Yeah, I’ll go to you,” he said.

But it was a lie.

Twenty-one

The emergency department was in chaos when Con stepped out of the Harrowgate, leaving Sin inside, her lips swollen from his good-bye kiss.

Don’t think about it.

Not thinking about it actually turned out to be easy, given the crazy medical situation. The injured wargs from the battle in Canada had been triaged, were lying around the emergency department on stretchers and on the floor, lined up all the way down the two hallways leading from the area.