“That’s my perfect, wicked beauty,” he urged. “Show me what you like. Show me how you want my fangs against your skin.” A broken moan tore from her throat. “Silas,” she gasped. “I know, darling,” he murmured. “I know.” Picking another spot on her arm, Ivy bit down with a cry. Silas’ fangs throbbed, begging to be used. Lifting her hazy stare to his, she shook violently as she came, ecstasy rolling off her in tidal waves.
