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Delilah is thrown into the world of supernatural when she meets a bleeding man on a train who needs her blood to heal. The brutal strength of his passion coaxes her to abandon her senses and surrender to him. As time goes on, she begins to realize that the Vampire is not the only one she wants to submit to. Liam has watched her his whole life and seeing her with the Vampire makes his Wolf snarl.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
The vampire is taunting him, showing off all the way he has her.
And Liam... Liam is too weak to look away.
She is so beautiful, even as she is being defiled by the vampire. Her skin is lovely and so pale that all the love bites are featured prominently from a distance and she makes the loveliest noises, little moans and whimpers that makes him come undone.
The vampire has been teaching her perverse things. He shouldn't be listening in on them as they make love, but he can't help himself.
It's not like he doesn't know what sex is, but the way they go about it is insane.
He almost panics when he scents how fertile she is one day, but as the days pass and it becomes clear that she's not carrying the vampire's child, he begins to relax and have other thoughts. Some vampires are so ancient that they are no longer capable of siring offspring. It's a small trade-off for immortality.
The first time he finds himself being a voyeur is entirely coincidental. He had been walking home from a long shift at work when he sees light from his neighbor's place. The door is opened, allowing the firelight to illuminate them. Even without it, he is able to see them clearly with his night vision.
He feels himself growing angered by the sight of Delilah cradled in the vampire's chest, her legs curled up in her chest. She is turned to him so that her face is hidden in the nape of his neck. There is a thick blanket spread over the both of them. They are just a couple enjoying the night view and he feels like a voyeur for stopping in his tracks to stare at them.
Shamed, he means to walk past them without a word but he stops as a gust of air blows towards him from their direction. It carries her scent, sweet and innocent even now but with something else... a thick, musky scent that is undeniably one of arousal. He bristles but is able to keep his mind clear enough to stay hidden.
"Charles..." Her voice is small and hurt.
For a second, he thinks to attack the man, thinking that he had caused her pain.
She wriggles in his grasp and tries to shift and adjust her position. The blanket falls from her shoulders and pools at their feet. Neither of them move to pull it back up.