jeans again, but his hand caught her fingers, stopping her.
Her gaze shot up to his. “I don’t understand?”
“I want to hold you while you feed from me, and while you drift off to sleep afterward.”
Luna blinked up at him, his big body now leaning against the headboard of her small bed. “Hold me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
Why? Why would he want to do that? “How is that payment?”
“Trust me, it is.”
His gaze stayed on her, and for some reason the way he was looking at her made her belly do weird little somersaults.
“You still need to feed?” he asked.
She looked down at the mattress. “Yes.”
“Then come here, Luna, and take from me.”
She crawled back to him, her skin flushing all over for some reason as he lay on his side on the bed and pulled her in close, tucking her in front of him. His entire body was pressed against hers, her butt snugged up against his groin, his tight stomach against her back. He wrapped his arms around her then, one arm going around her belly, the other coming up, so his wrist was close to her mouth.
Slowly, she took his thick, tattooed forearm in her hand and brought it to her lips. She couldn’t help but draw in his scent, and the swirls and flutters in her belly grew more intense. On a moan that she couldn’t hold in, she bit down into the thick blue vein and moaned again when the warmth of his blood rushed over her tongue a second time.
And for some reason, the tears that had been stinging her eyes, that she’d been fighting to hold back, began to slide slow and hot down her cheeks.
Nothing in her world made sense anymore. She’d been a monster’s plaything most of her life, she saw that now, but as messed up as it sounded, at least her role had been clear. She knew what was expected. She’d had a plan. Find Ronan. Kill Sir. Leave this city with her brother and never come back.
Now she didn’t know anything.
And Ronan was dead.
Her need for Sir’s blood had almost sent her back to him today, so deeply lost in her hunger and confusion. And the male holding her, who she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about from the moment she saw him, who fascinated her in a way she didn’t understand—but couldn’t stay away from—was now forced to feed her.
She felt so goddamn weak. Once again, she had to rely on someone else just so she could function.
A giant fucking burden, that’s what she was.
And Gunner thought she was so pathetic, so pitiable, that he didn’t even want to use her body. He wouldn’t take from her the only thing that she could give him as payment for letting her feed off him like a goddamn bloodsucking parasite.
She squeezed her eyes closed and more tears escaped—and she hated fucking crying.
“Shhh, love. It’s gonna be okay,” Gunner said against her ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
No, it wouldn’t.
Nothing would ever be okay again.
Gunner was afraid to move.
When Luna finished feeding, she’d kept hold of his arm, hugging it to her. Eventually, though, she’d rolled in her sleep so she was facing him. Her face was pressed against his chest, one arm up between them, the other over his waist. She was holding him tight as if she were afraid he’d get up and leave.
That wasn’t going to happen.
His cock throbbed, but he ignored it. Wanting to fuck your mate as soon as you found them was a given, but that was the last thing she needed from him.
He bit back another growl; he’d been doing it all night. The realization that Azel, that twisted, motherfucking angel—who had murdered Luna’s mother, then abducted her and her brother for their powers—had used her like that, had made her think she had to give him her body in exchange for blood, made him want to roar and tear shit to pieces, preferably that fucker’s limbs from his body.
His beautiful, precious female had been through hell. She was so strong, stronger than anyone he knew. Christ, the shit she’d survived. But there was this vulnerability, an innocence, an insecurity that she couldn’t conceal.
Most people—demons, angels, demi—built walls, shields, using anger or sarcasm or humor as a defense mechanism. Luna didn’t have that. He guessed that’s what came from being so removed from the world. Every emotion she felt was written all over her face.