Shadowfever (Fever #5)

by Karen Marie Moning

Suddenly there was a fist in my hair, behind me, pulling my head back, arching my spine up from the sofa. He closed his mouth over mine and pushed his tongue in, forcing my teeth wide. I grabbed his arm, but as sharply as he had my head pulled back, all I could do was steady myself. He wrapped his other hand around my neck, forcing my chin higher, kissing me more deeply, harder, keeping me from resisting. Not that I wanted to. Heart slamming in my chest, my legs moved apart. There are different kinds of kisses. I’d thought I’d experienced them all, if not prior to coming to Dublin, certainly after months of being Pri-ya, in bed with this man. This was a new one. All I could do was hold on to his arm and survive. “Kiss” wasn’t the right word at all. He fused us together—my jaws so wide, I couldn’t even kiss him back. I could only take what he was doing to me. I felt the sharp slide of fangs over my tongue as he sucked it into his mouth. I knew then—as he’d never let me see in our bed in that basement—that he was far more animal than man. Maybe he hadn’t always been, but he was now. Maybe, long ago, in the beginning, he’d missed being a man—if, in fact, he’d been one to begin with. But he didn’t anymore. He’d gone native. I was kind of astonished by it: What a man he’d chosen to be! He could easily have gone feral. He was the strongest, fastest, smartest, most powerful creature I’d ever seen. He could kill everything and everyone, including Fae. He could never be killed. Yet...