Love Bites Read Online Free

without turning a hair, but in a place like this, given the submissive streak he suspected? He’d be willing to bet if he came up behind her, stroked a hand down the delicate curve of her back, put his lips to her nape and caressed her with his fangs . . . she’d cream that pretty thong. Which explained why her cheeks had been going cherry red all night.
    The woman would be the death of him yet.
    Cador straightened, eyes narrowing as Morgana glanced hastily away. “Did she just blush?”
    “Appeared that way to me,” Marrok drawled.
    Both men turned and looked at Percival, who glowered back. “What?”
    Cador put down his glass with a thump. “You know what. Percival, you need to do something about this thing you’ve got going with her.”
    “There is no ‘thing.’” Percival gritted his teeth so hard, they creaked.
    “Don’t play stupid,” Cador snapped. “You can’t pull it off.”
    Marrok leaned forward and directed a cool, level gaze his way. “She wants you, Percival. She’s wanted you almost as long as you’ve wanted her. And it’s time you quit fucking around and claim her for the sake of our collective sanity.”
    “Morgana doesn’t want me—she wants a bloody giant lizard.” Percival curled a lip and sipped his drink, only to grimace as he realized it was nothing but half-melted ice. He gestured their waitress over, wishing he could order something with a bit more kick; by law, New York BDSM clubs could only serve soft drinks. “I’m afraid I don’t measure up.”
    “Soren’s not her lover.” Cador sprawled back in the booth, eyeing him. “Soren’s just her scaly, shape-shifting fuck buddy, and well you know it.” He was also Dragonkind’s ambassador to Avalon. The pair had been on-again, off-again lovers for the better part of a decade.
    Yet Percival would bet his enchanted sword she’d never submitted to her dragon lover. Or, for that matter, any of the others she’d dallied with, even knights like Galahad. Certainly not the way she’d always seemed to tremble on the edge of yielding to Percival.
    One day, he swore, he’d push her right over—and catch her when she fell.

TWO

    M organa wished Percival would stop watching her with his eyes burning with that hooded heat. She wasn’t sure if the emotion was lust, or anger over that jolt she’d given them.
    Either way, she really shouldn’t have zapped them. It was a blatant misuse of her power, even if the spell did nothing worse than give the knights headaches. It was no more acceptable for her to hurt them with her magic than for them to misuse their vampire strength against her.
    In fifteen centuries, she’d never seen Percival turn his power against an innocent, not before he’d become a vampire, and not since. His sense of honor wouldn’t permit it. He’d sworn to protect the helpless, and that’s exactly what he did.
    Morgana, though . . . Whenever she felt backed into a corner, it was if a switch would flip somewhere in her brain, and her ghosts rose again to torment her into doing something she’d regret.
    Even today, after so many centuries, she heard Mordred’s voice breathe low and deep with that chilling, stomach-churning note of seduction.
“When Arthur’s dead, you’ll be at my mercy. No one will care what I do to you. They’ll be too busy seeking my favor . . .”
    “Stop it!”
    “I’ll do everything I ever fantasized about, and you’ll be helpless . . .”
    “Stop it stop it STOP IT!”
    “It’s no more than you deserve. After all, you let that priest do it to me, didn’t you?”
    Gritting her teeth, Morgana forced away the memory of big hands clamping around her arms with bruising force, the hard crack of a fist against her cheek, the explosion of light in her head, her own high-pitched cry of pain.
    Another man’s face rose in her memory, twisted with lust, fevered eyes glittering in sick excitement. Father Bennett spoke in a voice pitched higher than her son’s velvet