Free A Cold Day in Hell (The Hellcat Series) by Sharon Hannaford

felt pain flare down the side of her face. 
    It brought her up short, trying to remember what had happened in the last few minutes.  The memories eluded her, so she brought her left hand up towards her face.  He caught her hand, just short of touching the side of her face, and kissed the backs of her fingers, then ran his warm, wet tongue over her knuckles.  Pain she hadn't been aware of ignited for a split second before vanishing. 
    His other hand travelled feather-light down her right arm and pried gently at her hand, which was locked around something.  Ah, Nex.  She'd been gripping the sword so tightly that she could feel the ridges of the hilt embedded in her palm.  Her hand felt sticky, coated with something.  He gently helped her unlock the death grip she had on the hilt, and pried it from her.  She heard the metallic clank as the blade hit the tarmac, but she wasn't worried.  Nex was tough; she could take it.  He brought the hand up and placed it on his chest.  She looked at it and felt her eyebrows furrow in confusion.  It seemed to be caked in blood and dust.  Before the confusion could upset her, his hands tilted her head upward and his mouth claimed hers. 
    The erotic dream was back, this time accompanied by faint flickers of pain as she writhed under his expert hands and mouth.  Her wrists hurt, her mouth and her face hurt, her ribs, collarbone—all complained about the movements.  But it didn't give her pause.  None of that mattered; only the feel and taste of him mattered.  The pain made her think that, maybe this time, the dream wasn't really a dream.  His tongue invaded her mouth, and then the taste of ambrosia.  All thoughts and worries fled her mind.  Only sensation remained.  The ambrosia warmed her mouth, then her throat and then her entire body, turning her to liquid.  The taste she craved began to fade, and she knew she had to have more.
     
    Julius needed to get her somewhere safe.  Now.  Her response was so potent that he was finding it hard to control his own reactions.  His body was screaming to rip away the clothing separating them, and to bury himself in her deeply enough to make them one entity.  Her taste, her scent, her excitement and arousal called to him like crystal meth to an addict in withdrawal.  The smell of the other Vampire still lingering in the alley and the fine dusting of his ash covering Gabi's arms and legs wasn't helping his sanity.  Possessiveness reared up, clawing at his mind like a trapped tiger. 
    The car, he told himself firmly, Alexander was bringing a car.  Get her to the car.  He shifted his grip on her and lifted her into his arms.  She entwined her arms around his neck and began to leave a trail of wet, nipping kisses across his jaw and down his neck. 
    She reached the spot on his neck where the artery ran close to the surface, and without warning sank her tiny, ever so slightly pointed canines into his flesh, puncturing the artery and then suckling at the wound.  The world reeled around him as fireworks went off in his mind.  His resolve vaporised.  His control obliterated, branding her as his own became his only priority.  
    There was a wall behind her, though he couldn't remember moving.  He released her legs back to the ground and pressed her against the pollution-stained bricks.  Her hands were already ripping at his belt, as desperate to touch him as he was to touch her.  A separate, saner part of his brain assessed the alleyway, checking for company and alert for danger.  His men weren’t far off; he could sense them clearly.  They wouldn't allow anyone down here.  Nothing else human or supernatural was nearby.  His belt buckle came free, and her fingers deftly undid his trousers.  That was all he could take.  He lifted her with one arm and slid his other hand under her skirt to the edge of her lace panties; they gave no resistance as he shredded them.  She curled her arms around his neck, her legs around his