When she’d told him she needed pain—specifically biting—Silas had nearly pounced on her in his office. It had taken every ounce of willpower to stay in his seat. He’d barely been able to form words. He’d learned over the decades how to bite without puncturing delicate human skin. Knew how to clamp his teeth down without drawing blood. To take someone’s vein without prior discussion or consent was unforgivable. But having his partner’s throat bared to him, his fangs pressing against their pulse point without cutting? It was a high Silas hadn’t experienced in far too long. And here Ivy was,
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