Blood-Bonded by Force by Tracy Tappan Read Free Book Online Page A

“Ease back, Mürk. The chap can hardly get a stalk when he can’t fecking breathe.” She slid her hand over Arc again, up and down, tip to root and back again.
    Bile burned Thomal’s throat and nose. Sweat soaked his shirt. He flexed and released his fingers. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could make his hands small enough to slip through.
    Air rushed in and out of Arc’s closed teeth, his chest expanding and contracting, his face sopping with sweat, worse than Thomal’s. Still no lift-off.
    “Well, fuck me backward,” Mürk said in a snarky tone. “It appears the almighty Pändra has lost her touch.”
    “Not effing likely.” Pändra stepped back and studied Arc. After a moment, she made a noise of understanding and crossed to her purse, this time pulling out a comb. No… sch-nick . A knife punched out of the top of the handle. It was a switchblade. She waved off her lowlifes. “Chivvy along, lads. What I have to do now isn’t for your ruddy perving.”
    “That’s not fair,” the tall lowlife whined.
    Pändra’s fist flashed out so fast, Thomal barely saw it. A solid thwack announced knuckles meeting flesh, and then the complainer was lying flat on his back, lids closed and mouth flabby. Not doing a whole lot of moving.
    “Get him out of here,” she told the short one.
    The guy’s lips quavered. “I can’t carry Duane.”
    Pändra’s chin edged down. “Move him or join him, Bo Bo.”
    Somehow the short lowlife managed to grunt-drag the taller one outside. The door shut, and Arc’s rapid breathing filled the hotel room. The whites of his eyes showed as he craned to keep track of Pändra and her knife.
    “So what’re you about, Pändra?” Mürk asked, his attention also on the switchblade. “I thought you didn’t want to snuff the wanker.”
    “I’m going to make the vamp pop his fangs.” She flipped the blade into her other hand. “I couldn’t do that in front of my lads, could I?”
    Mürk frowned. “Why the hell are you goin’ to do that?”
    “He’s Vârcolac, durbrain,” she said in the impatient tone of someone dealing with an especially stupid stupid person. “He likely needs the scent of blood to get a knob on, you ken?” She pulled off her immortality ring and set it on the nightstand, then slashed the switchblade across her finger. A line of blood pebbled to the surface of her skin.
    Thomal’s nostrils twitched.
    Pändra moved toward Arc, her strides lithe and feline, her black eyes glittering with feral intensity.
    Arc thrashed against Mürk again, but with that cord around Arc’s neck and his hands and feet bound in chains, he couldn’t do much of anything to free himself.
    Mürk tightened his grip, and Arc jerked and wheezed.
    Pändra swiped a finger across Arc’s upper lip, smearing the area under his nose with her blood.
    Arc let out a short howl.
    Thomal’s bones rattled from it and he pressed his eyes closed briefly, feeling his brother’s pain. The blood of anyone but Beth, Arc’s bonded mate, would smell utterly wrong.
    Pändra made a noise of satisfaction. “Ah, there’re your wicked ivories. Let’s see how your plonker does now, shall we?” Pändra dropped to her knees at Arc’s feet.
    Thomal exhaled through his nostrils in abject shock when Pändra grabbed Arc’s cock in her hand and swallowed the head of it between her red lips. Sweat streamed through Thomal’s lashes. No. This isn’t happening . A loud buzz droned through his brain, trying to shut down functions. He could do no more than stare, his teeth rhythmically chewing his cloth gag as Pändra rode down Arc’s shaft, taking him deep into her throat, then pulled slowly back off his length, her mouth wrapping him in a tight grip. She paused at the satiny cap to work it with several quick, hard sucks.
    Arc’s dick went rock-hard.
    Mürk grunted.
    “There’s ol’ Percy,” Pändra said with a note of triumph.
    The muscles in Thomal’s crotch tautened. He started to tremble, from