Although I seriously hoped that any supernatural ass-kicking I might one day need to employ could be managed without sticking my fingers up a stranger’s butt. I would still need to work the details out when it came to those sorts of logistics, I supposed.
All of which brought us back to the reason I was currently deep-throating my vampire lover while simultaneously doing my best impression of a perverted general practitioner giving a digital rectal exam.
Rans had wanted me glutted on sexual energy before trying this experiment—hence yesterday’s little misadventure. With his hand tangled in my curls and his low murmurs of encouragement as he guided me up and down his length, there was no question I was getting off on this. But I wasn’t supposed to touch a drop of his animus today, no matter how tempting it felt as it brushed at the edges of my awareness, promising a fresh feast if I would only let my guard down.
His hand tightened, tugging at my scalp in a way that he knew damned well I loved. I hummed around him; a moment later, he groaned and spilled his release down my throat. The grip he had on my hair ensured that I took everything he had to give me. And... okay, there was a lot. That was another thing about prostate stimulation, apparently.
By the time he was finished, I was shaking—and not only with the need to come. Even with the practice I’d been getting over the last few days, blocking the flow of his energy into me still went against every instinct I possessed. A needy little whining noise escaped the back of my throat as he eased me off his cock, and I slid my fingers out of his body at the same time.
“Bloody hell,” he said, drawing out the first word. “Well done, pet—on several fronts. Now come up here so I can return the favor... but no cheating and feeding from me, or I’ll stop and toss you in a cold shower as punishment.”
“Fucker,” I muttered, a bit hoarsely.
He chuckled. “I had something else in mind for tonight, actually.”
A heartbeat later, I was on my back on the bed, legs spread. Rans dove between them and promptly made me forget all of my irritation with him over the course of the next two hours.
* * *
“I still don’t understand what you’re getting at with this little project of yours,” I said, much later that night.
My head was pillowed on his chest; one arm and one leg thrown across his body in a way that I tried to tell myself did not scream possessiveness. Because in addition to the sheer difficulty involved in not allowing myself to feed from Rans’ animus while we had sex, I now had something new to worry about.
Namely, without the paper-thin excuse of feeding from him to use as a shield, I was finding it more difficult than ever not to want things I couldn’t have. Over and over, I chanted the words silently—he was helping out a clueless and starving succubus hybrid because he was a good guy, undead or no. In return, I was helping him turn off his brain by giving him mind-blowing orgasms and sucking his life energy out through his dick.
That was all.
I mean, yeah—he was technically stuck with me now, after he’d bound our souls together in a fit of temporary insanity compounded by a healthy dose of centuries-old martyr complex. But that was all there was to it. At some point, he was going to come to his senses and tell me to stop freeloading. Hell, maybe that was exactly what he was doing right now—training me to get my demon kicks from someone other than him.
And who could blame him?
“The animus control, you mean?” he asked in response to my question. “Oh, I just had an idea the other day, is all.”
I waited, and when no further elucidation came my way, I pressed further. “And would you like to share your idea with the rest of the class?”
The shoulder beneath my cheek lifted in a small shrug. “I was considering your options for feeding that don’t involve direct sexual contact with strangers.”
Bingo. I craned to look up at him. “Strangers? I hope you’re not planning on throwing me at any of my exes.”
A blue glow kindled in the depths of his eyes, and his brow furrowed in a scowl. “Don’t make me laugh. Those idiotic sods never deserved you in the first place.”
I tamped down the little flutter of hopefulness that tried to rise in my chest. Stop it, Zorah. Seriously, get a grip and try living in the real world for a change.
“What, then?” I asked.
“Even in this puritanical excuse for a country, there are still a few avenues for the legal expression of sexuality,” he said, his tone musing.
A frown furrowed my brow as I pondered what I knew of legal sex-related stuff. My jaw dropped in outrage, and I pushed upright so I could glare down at him. “You want me to become a stripper!” I accused.
But he only let out a huff of laughter and tugged me back down to his chest. “Not what I was considering,” he assured me. “Though in a pinch I suppose it could work—you certainly have both the looks and the flexibility for it.”
That was... probably a compliment, so I restrained myself from smacking him.
“What, then?” I repeated, this time through gritted teeth.
“Private fetish club,” he said without hesitation. “Most major cities have them, and it’s about that safest place you can be while still being surrounded by a crowd of randy people lusting after you.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I closed it, blinked
