The Ripple Effect (Rhiannon's Law #3)(24)

“Let go.” Even when I said it, I hoped he wouldn’t listen, that he’d stay right where he was. My mind was a haze of confusion. I wanted to pull him close but push him away, to kiss him hard but slap him across the face.

“No, I don’t think so. I no longer carry your scent. That’s unacceptable.” He lowered his head, nuzzled my chin, and brought his lips to the unmarked side of my neck. I wasn’t sure what he was up to until he did something he’d only done once in our entire relationship.

He bit me.

God, it hurt. A horrible crunch echoed in my ears, informing me the muscle and tissue had been torn through. When his fangs hit my vein, scored it, and got a steady flow of blood, he pulled his teeth from my skin. It was the strangest sensation: sexy in a perverse way despite being agonizing. Hard sucks followed the puncturing of my neck, deep draws on my flesh that ached but no longer burned with a fiery passion.

“Disco,” I whispered as the room started to spin.

Goose had told me a vampire could drain a person in just over a minute if they wanted to. Seven pints of blood gone that quickly. How much had he taken? How much would he take? Did he want me dead now? What the hell was going on?

Panic suffocated me, and Marigold Vesta’s amulet was there as always, begging me to call on its power, to use it as a tool to protect myself. Before I could accept the power the stone provided, Disco was finished at my throat. He brought his hand up, bit into his wrist, and placed the bloody wound to my mouth.

“Take it.”

Even though I was woozy, I was still sane. “No.”

“Marius can smell a trace of Paine on you, but not me.” I could hear possessiveness behind the statement, his anger that another’s scent mingled with mine. He brushed his skin against my lips. “Take it.”

So that was what this was about. Disco wanted to make his place known, to ensure Marius knew that no matter what transpired between me and Paine, Disco was the primary vampire in my life. Was I surprised? No. He’d made it clear how he felt about me—about us. No matter how I felt about it, his determination to see us back together hadn’t changed.


I didn’t look at him as I did what he requested. His blood was sweet, cool and wet against my tongue. I tried not to moan as I swallowed until the flow of blood stemmed. I’d always enjoyed the way drinking from him brought us closer, as though his lifeforce wrapped around mine and twined us together, cementing a union we could both feel. Even without a mirror I knew my lips were covered in red, my chin smeared. There was also something else. Something far more dangerous.

Disco shoved his knee between my legs, forced me to part my thighs, and used his arms to lift me. His pelvis held me in place, the firm ridge of his fully erect cock flush against my sex. I didn’t want this but I did. It was so confusing, so f*cking wrong. I loved him, but I hated him. I wanted him, but I didn’t.

“You’ve put me through hell.” He rolled his hips, and this time I did moan. “Every single night I’ve ached for you. Each time I close my eyes, it’s your face I see. I’ve wanted to hold you for so long. To take back the hurt I’ve caused. To tell you how sorry I am.”

“It’s your own fault.” It was his fault, right? Or was it mine? I tried to remember, to bring to mind all the reasons I should tell him to go to hell.

“You’re right, it is my fault. But it’s your stubbornness that has taken it this far. Everyone makes mistakes or does things they wish they could take back. I’m one of them. You have no idea how much I wish I could turn back the clock, to undo what I’ve done. I want you back.” He thrust his hips against me. “Here, in my arms, in my bed.”

“Your bed is the last place I’d want to be.”

“Then forget the bed.” He shoved his hand between us, pressed his palm against my sex, and applied pressure. “We can take baby steps.”

“Stop him, stop him, stop him,” warred in my head with “say yes, say yes, say yes.”

He smelled so damned good, cinnamon and cloves, mist from the morning dew and a hint of smoke. Wherever he’d ventured with Marius, someone had been smoking a cigar. The sweet tobacco mingled with his own unique scent, enhancing it, making him impossible to resist.

“Please.” I was back to pleading for him mindlessly. Yes, I would certainly hate myself for it, but my pride didn’t matter. My anger at him was dissipating into nothing.

“We have to talk. There’s a lot you need to know. There are so many things I want to say.”

“Then maybe you should give me some space.” The words were rumbly, my voice heavy with desire. “It’s hard to think when you do that.”

“Then don’t think.” He chuckled and ran his thumb over my clit, using small circles with just the right amount of pressure.

Ecstasy. Bliss. Heaven.

I dropped my head back, allowing the wall to support me. His clever fingers continued working the sensitive bundle of nerves—pinching, flicking, rubbing—as he bowed his head and nibbled my ear. It wouldn’t take much to send me over, to have me calling out his name as I came. It had been weeks since I’d felt like this, wrapped in sensual waves of heat and pleasure.

When the bedroom door opened unexpectedly, I lifted my head and met Marius’s infuriated gaze. To my shock, Disco kept me exactly as I was, trapped between him and the wall. He didn’t move his hand, and he didn’t appear to be at all ashamed of the position we were in, but he was tense. I could feel the way his muscles tightened, could see the way his face went from impassioned to guarded.