Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [165]
She had to slide her hand around his waist to get the last tie, molding her body against his back. She licked his ear, a quick flick of her pale pink tongue.
He closed his eyes, bowing his head until our foreheads touched.
“You can do this,” I said.
He nodded his head, eyes still closed, forehead still touching mine.
Yvette ran her hands up his back under the vest, then curved them around to his naked chest, running her nails down his flesh in a quick rush.
Jason gasped, and I realized in that instant that it wasn’t just fear. He had slept with her before he knew what she was. She knew his body, knew how to bring him to passion as only a lover can. She’d use that against him now.
Jason drew his face back from mine. He looked at me, and he seemed lost.
She shoved the vest up around his shoulders and licked a long wet line up his spine.
He turned his face from me, so I wouldn’t see his eyes. “It’s all right if some of it feels good, Jason.”
He turned back to me, and there were other things in his eyes besides fear. I’d been more comfortable with the fear, but he was the one hurting.
Yvette knelt and did something low on his back with her mouth. His knees buckled suddenly, taking us both to the floor. I ended up flat on my back with Jason on top of me. I had one leg free, which was a help and a hindrance, since it put him perfectly on top of me. I could tell his body was happy to be there. I wasn’t sure about the rest of him. He was making small sounds low in his throat.
I scooted out from under him enough so that his groin wasn’t pressing mine and I could sit up to see what Yvette had done to him. There were fangs marks low on his back near the spine. The blood beaded on the blue leather like it had been Scotch-garded.
His arms locked around my waist. “Don’t leave me, please.” His cheek was pressed against my waist. The tension in his body made my heart thud.
“I won’t leave you, Jason.” I stared at Yvette over his body.
She was kneeling with the white skirt pooled around her, as if a wandering photographer would be coming by. She smiled, and it reached her eyes, filling them with a dark, joyous light. She was enjoying the hell out of herself.
“You’ve fed. It’s over,” I said.
“That wasn’t a feeding, and you know it. I’ve tasted him, but I haven’t fed.”
It had been worth a try. She was right. I knew she hadn’t fed. “Then just do it, Yvette.”
“If you had let me rot, then it would be quicker, but I want his terror and his pleasure. That takes longer.”
Jason made a small sound, like a child crying in the dark. I looked out at Richard. He was still standing, but he wasn’t angry with me now. There was real pain in his eyes. He’d have rather it be him than Jason. Like a true king he’d have taken the pain.
I smelled forest, rich and green, leaf mold so wet and new it made my throat tight. I stared at Richard and knew what he was suggesting. We’d had our little fight about the munin. He’d truly thought I was safe from them because I wasn’t a shapeshifter. He hadn’t known the marks I shared with him would put me at risk. But now it had possibilities. Not channeling Raina, I never wanted to do that again, but the power of the pack. Their warmth, their touch—that could help.
I closed my eyes and felt the mark open like curtains parting in my body. Jason raised his head, staring up at me. His nostrils flared, scenting me, scenting the power.
Yvette ripped the vest down his back like it was paper.
Jason gasped.
She licked along his body, then suddenly her mouth closed over his ribs. I saw the muscles in her jaw tense as Jason’s body spasmed against me. He collapsed against me, hands scrambling along the floor as if he didn’t know what to do with them, or with his body.
Yvette drew back leaving neat red holes. Blood dripped from the wound. She licked her lips and smiled at me.
“Does it hurt?” I asked Jason.
“Yes,” he said, “and no.”
I started to raise him up.
Yvette put a hand in the