Page 28 of Live Love Lasso

Damn flirtatious dark elf. It should be illegal to smell that good and have an ass that perfectly bubbly and muscular. Not to mention the silver tattoos covering his entire shoulders and back and trailing down over the aforementioned ass.

I make a mental note to comm Shadow the minute I get home to update her on this newest development. If I knew the Gulch was making men who looked like this, I might have come to visit with the girls. At the time, a girls’ weekend in a remote haven didn’t sound like my cup of type A, and I was busy prepping for Varitius’ family affair.

Casting the bad memories aside, I cross the living room and head to the kitchen, remembering my way from last night. I set my pink leather clutch down on the kitchen counter and hop up, crossing one leg over the other.

Furyon returns a moment later wearing low-slung jeans and absolutely no shirt at all.

I wave at his upper body as he joins me, opening the fridge and withdrawing a bag of bright red blood. “You’re only halfway dressed.”

Not that he doesn’t look hot as hells, because he does. The lines of his abs draw my attention with a deep vee that disappears into jeans that are barely hanging on to his muscular hips. Broad shoulders taper to a trim waist, and every inch of him except one pectoral is covered in silver animal tattoos. Horses, cattle, mice, owls. They’re everywhere.

He flashes me a dazzling smile as he sets the blood on the counter, reaches into a cabinet and withdraws two glasses. “I invited you here for dinner, Lemon, but let’s not pretend this isn’t what it is—you’re gonna end up in my bed. Or maybe I’ll have you right here. But either way, there’s no need for me to add more clothing to the mix.” He waves at his crotch. “Only reason I bothered to cover this half is I want to make sure you’re fed before we get to everything else. You’ve noticed we have no blood bank, I’m sure.”

My mouth drops open, and I scoff. “Well, I hate to be a foregone conclusion.”

He chuckles and rips the bag of blood open with his teeth. He fills both glasses halfway up then grabs a bottle of gin, adding to each glass. Swirling it with his finger, he keeps both eyes on me, that same satisfied-looking smile on his face.

“You ain't a foregone conclusion, Lemon. But the draw between us is obvious. I asked you out. You said yes. Then you went home to freshen up and put on a dress that’d knock me fuckin’ dead. You wanna get railed into my headboard. Tell me you don’t.” The challenge in his confident-ass tone has my hackles rising even as my fangs pop from my gums. My second eyelids flash over both eyes, and his grin goes from satisfied to shit-eating.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” He steps closer and presses a glass into my hand. “Let’s take the edge off that thirst, city girl, ‘cause I don’t need you biting me in a moment of passion.”

I chuckle as I take a sip. The blood’s cold and delicious, and I close my eyes as it goes down smooth. When I open them, Furyon’s drinking from his glass. Watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows blood has my eyelid flashing white again, and I set my glass down, beckoning him with a finger.

“Come closer, Furyon.”

He takes another defiant sip from his cup. “I come any closer, and we ain’t gonna make it through dinner, Lemon.”

“Fuck dinner,” I growl. “Show me your neck.”

He sets his glass down and cages me in, letting his head fall to one side as he stares from beneath dark lashes. Those shocking eyes narrow as he scans my face and watches my mouth. Moving a hand up my right arm, he slides the ruffled strap down over my shoulder. “You hungry, city girl?”

“Not for food,” I admit. I lean forward and suck at a gorgeous spot on his neck, scenting him as everything inside me clenches tightly. “You smell so good,” I murmur into his skin. “Thank you for trusting me to put my mouth on you here.”

“I haven’t consented to more,” he says simply, but it sounds teasing the way he does it.

I grip his chin and level him with a serious gaze. “I’d never take what you haven’t agreed to. Do you understand? I don’t do that. Your comfort is important to me.”

His look softens, nostrils flaring.

I brush my lips over his, loving how hot and soft his mouth is. “But when you allow me to taste you, it’s gonna be so good, country boy.”

“Let me taste you first,” he demands.

I grin and lean back on my hands, opening my thighs wider. “I’ll allow it, Furyon. Biting is just fine by me.”

His answering growl has goosebumps peppering my entire body. He surges forward and clamps his teeth around my shoulder. Shaking his head from side to side, he sinks his fangs into my skin and snarls. I shove a hand into his long hair and wrap it between my fingers, holding him as he bites and scrapes his teeth along my shoulder and up my neck.

I’m halfway to coming by the time he bites beneath my ear, his breath and tongue hot against my throat. He releases the bite and plants an open-mouthed kiss on my skin. Reaching for my other dress strap, he slides it down and steps back, pulling my dress down over my breasts. I’m big-chested, but this dress has enough built-in support that I don’t wear a bra.

When the fabric slides down far enough to reveal my boobs to him, Furyon lets out a satisfied sound. Before I can say something sassy about how great my tits are, he surges forward, gripping one hard. He guides my entire breast into his mouth and bites. I jolt in his arms, crying out as I fall back onto my hands, arching into his rough touch. He releases the bite and sucks, pulling my nipple into a stiff peak. I rock my hips against him, desperate for more.

The blood we just drank amps my lust, fangs throbbing with venom as Furyon reaches between my thighs and finds my thong.

“I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

I nod.

He slips his fingers easily beneath it and pulls it to the side, his fingers playing up and down my slit.