Free Dark Destiny (Principatus) by Lexxie Couper Page B

pulsing, ragged breath shallow. If he inhaled the human-tainted air too deeply, he would lose control and be lost to his demonic needs.
    With a growl, he shoved his hand into his back pocket and ripped out his cell phone, flipping it open and punching in Amy’s number in feverish haste. He needed to feed. He needed to fuck. Now. At the same time. He needed to sate his hunger before he did something foolish. Something—
    A hand closed over his fingers, snapping his phone shut with a soft click. A cool, pale hand with long, slender fingers tipped with blunt, blood-red nails.
    He jerked his head up, dragging his stare from his now-closed phone to the woman standing before him, her lush, lithe body encased in skintight black silk and leather, her pale, pale blue eyes shining with confused desire.
    Without uttering a word, she lifted her hand from his phone and placed her palm to his chest, directly over his still, unbeating heart.
    A wave of heat rolled through him, so hot and pleasurable he bit back a cry of exquisite pain. His cock—already ramrod stiff—flooded with fresh blood and lust and he growled, the sound so far from human he felt the pedestrians around them tremble with subconscious terror.
    He didn’t give a flying fuck. How could he? When Death stood before him with her hand on his lifeless heart, making him feel more alive than he’d ever felt.
    “I’ve just thought of something, Steven Watkins.” She studied him, eyes smoldering. “ You saw me in Patrick’s bedroom as well.”
    Ven’s throat grew tight. He stared at her, his fangs lengthening, his cock throbbing.
    “How did you do that, fang face?” she asked, her dark eyebrows pulling into a puzzled frown. “Tell me.”
    He stared down into her face, anger, guilt, confusion and desire roaring through him.
    Desire as ravenous as his hunger took possession of his body, his mind. Working through his body like an inferno, igniting in his groin, burning through his belly, up into his chest, his unbeating heart, his mind.
    “Tell me,” Death whispered, leaning closer. Her eyes shimmered again. From pale blue ice to an infinite, iridescent white. The eyes of a demon more powerful than existence itself. “Or kiss me.”
    He did as commanded. He kissed her. Unable, unwilling to deny his desire any more.
    The inferno devoured him, and before he could plunge his tongue past her lips the pure, primeval rapture of the kiss consumed him and nothing else mattered. Not humanity, not existence.
    Not even Patrick.

Chapter Four
    Amy held her breath, watching the vampire— Raz, Amy. He calls himself Raz— brush aside the stray lock of her hair falling over her shoulder. The deep predawn shadows of the alley made his face almost indiscernible, but his eyes were impossible to miss. They glowed with iridescent yellow greed, a greed she felt all the way in the pit of her belly.
    She tensed, ready for the agony and ecstasy of his fangs. The pain would consume her first, followed by the pleasure, the rapture of the feed.
    And if he kills you?
    Her body trembled at the thought, but she ignored it. She didn’t care. She needed to feel this now. She couldn’t wait any longer.
    Ice-cold fingers traced the line of her jugular down from her jaw to her collarbone, the path they took followed by a tongue both wet and cold.
    “You smell delicious,” the vampire murmured, grazing her flesh with his teeth.
    Another tremble shook Amy, this one a surreal mix of sexual craving and abject terror. “I’ve been told so,” she gasped, struggling to keep her voice even. She’d never offered herself to a vampire other than Ven. She just wished this one would hurry up.
    There was a heavy pause, a tightening of his arrogant, overly familiar grip on her arse, and then he pulled back, his yellow stare drilling into her with almost contemptuous humor. “Really?” He grinned, his fangs glinting in the dim alley light. “By whom? I assumed I was your first?”
    Amy shook her head a