Four-Letter Words Evans, Gabrielle (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

perpetual battle between craving Thane’s nearness and resisting the urge to sink his fangs into the throbbing artery on the side of his mate’s neck.

Once a week, he took a tiny sip from Thane’s wrist, partly to appease his obstinate man, and partly to stave off the bloodlust. He’d been nervous in the beginning, unsure of how Thane would react after the ordeal he’d survived. Enduring two years of vampires forcibly feeding from him, the witch would have every reason to avoid Zasha and recoil from his bite. Never once had Thane so much as flinched, even begging him to take more than Zasha felt was safe.

Each feeding was conducted under stringently controlled conditions, and Zasha often fed from a donor bag beforehand—though he’d never tell Thane that. During times of high emotion and loss of inhibition, especially during sexual pursuits, it was close to impossible to fight the compulsion to feed from his intended.

Adding to the complications was the fact that he’d been without the donor blood for almost two days. Hungry and horny did not make for a good combination, and he needed to stay as far away from Thane as possible.

The need to be close to his mate was hardwired into his very being, though. The overwhelming desire to give Thane everything he wanted never left him. So there he was, right back where he’d started, chasing his proverbial tail in a perpetual loop.

The mating bond dictated that he couldn’t be without Thane because the separation would drive him mad. The bloodlust, however, screamed that he couldn’t be with Thane because he might accidentally drain the guy in his sleep.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Thane chastised, but the smile on his face was full of wickedness. “Say yes, lieveling.”

The endearment sparked something in him, a note of recognition that he didn’t understand. Growing up in Belgium, Zasha knew the language Thane spoke was Dutch, and he’d heard countless others use the endearment during his lifetime. He didn’t think that was why it felt so familiar to him, though.

His heart pounded just a little faster, and his already aching cock swelled and throbbed against his zipper. “I…this is bad.” His brain was shutting down. Whether it was from thirst for Thane’s blood or hunger for the man’s body, he couldn’t say. Still, he had enough sense about him to know that no matter how much he desired his mate, he had to resist the temptation.

Moving with a fluidity Zasha hadn’t expected, Thane spun him on his heels and pressed his chest flat against the side of the house. Then he covered Zasha’s back with his taller frame, pinning him in place while he nibbled at the nape of his neck.

“There,” Thane whispered, sliding his hand down Zasha’s stomach to pop open the clasp on his slacks. “You can’t even reach me with your fangs, and you’re not going to hurt me.” His long, talented fingers dipped into the waistband of Zasha’s boxers and extracted his hard cock, squeezing gently around the base. “Let me make you feel good. At least give me this.”

If he wanted, Zasha could break the hold without blinking. That was exactly what he should do, but the lips on his neck and the hand on his dick felt too good. He’d denied them both of this for weeks on end, and while he knew he should say no, he couldn’t force the word through his parched mouth.

Thane was right about one other thing as well. In their current position, Zasha had no access to an artery. Are you really trying to justify this, asshole? Gods help him, but he was. When Thane began to pump his cock in slow, measured glides, Zasha would have told himself any lie, concocted any reasoning, to continue feeling that pleasure.

“It’s up to you.” Thane’s unoccupied hand slid under his shirt and fluttered over his clenching abs. “Say yes, Zasha. Tell me you want this.”

There was a clear plea in Thane’s voice, and Zasha understood that if he refused, Thane would walk away. He’d be hurt, and probably a little frustrated, but he’d stop everything if that was truly what Zasha wanted. “I…” It shouldn’t have been such a difficult decision. However, the fact that he hadn’t been able to retract his fangs since they’d stepped outside was weighing heavily on him.

Thane’s exploration came to a halt, and he released Zasha’s pulsing length with a sigh of resignation. “Okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” He whispered another kiss over Zasha’s neck and nuzzled against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I pushed.”

With his palms pressed flat to the side of the house, Zasha dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest, and squeezed his eyes closed. “Yes.”

“What was that?”

Zasha could hear the undercurrent of hope tinting his lover’s tone, and it broke his heart. It wasn’t fair for him to deny his partner simply because he had no self-control. He was stronger than that. All of his excuses about Thane being too sick were bullshit, when really, it all boiled down to Zasha’s weakness.

“Yes,” he repeated with more conviction. “I want this.” Lifting his head, he peeked over his shoulder and captured Thane’s lips in a lingering kiss. “I want you.”

With a needy moan, Thane attacked his mouth, plunging his tongue between Zasha’s parted lips to taste and explore every inch he could reach. One hand pressed flat to Zasha’s stomach while the other fisted his erection again. “We’ll take it slow,” Thane panted. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.”

Zasha assumed he meant the bloodlust, but it was kind of hard to think around the throbbing of his cock. “Stop talking.” Now that he’d given in, he couldn’t get enough. Every touch, every taste, every hard glide of Thane’s hand over his length was more addicting than the last.

Shaking and shuddering, he bucked into his lover’s fist as he nipped at Thane’s delectable lips. The muscles in his thighs trembled, and his heart hammered against his sternum. Each exhale caught