Blood Match, book 2 in the Blood Type Series by K.A. Linde, is available now!
As the provocative, sensual Blood Type series continues, the rare bond between Reyna and Beckham is threatened by betrayal, greed, and twisted secrets.
A desperate human. A powerful vampire. A world divided.
Reyna Carpenter was promised paradise. She was delivered into hell.
Giving up her body for money was supposed to be the hardest part of becoming a blood escort. She never expected to lose her heart to her dark, enigmatic boss, Beckham Anderson. After being taken by a depraved captor who plans to rule the world, Reyna will do anything to return to Beckham.
She just has to find the will to survive this game.
From the pawn, rises a queen.
Note: Reyna and Beckham’s story begins in Blood Type and continues in Blood Cure.
“Please.” She wasn’t above begging. “I’ve waited so long.”
“I won’t bite you,” he said, his face sliding down between her legs. A fang nipped at the sensitive artery in her inner thigh. “But I bloody well want to.”
Did she even care if he bit her? It would be a relief after what she’d endured. A relief to feel that connection so acutely. But she wouldn’t press him this time. She remembered how they’d gotten carried away. He’d taken too much, drank too deeply, and she could have died. They needed to take it slow.
The blood. Not the sex. She needed that right now.
His finger slicked through her wetness and began to massage her clit. She vibrated from the sensation. She didn’t know if she’d be able to hold out before he was inside of her.
Then his eyes found hers again. His boxers disappeared and then his cock was in his hand. He massaged the length of himself as he watched her walk on a tightrope. Any second she was going to fall off and into oblivion. Nothing and no one had ever made her feel so good. No. No one had ever made her feel.
“So . . . close,” she ground out.
One powerful thrust seated him to the hilt within her. She cried out as he stretched her to the max. No warning or preamble just his cock inside of her, filling her to completion.
Her walls clenched around him. She was so close, but instinctively, she knew he wasn’t going to let her release without him.
Then he started moving. A slow pull out and a quick drive inward. Once, twice, three times.
“Not yet,” he said, his eyes commanding.
She tried to hold back. She could wait. Oh God, she could wait.
Then he started up the rhythm again. Setting his own course, owning and claiming her body. Reclaiming everything that he’d lost in that one moment of stupidity on her part. In his one moment of weakness.
She could see in his eyes the weight that loss had cost him. The toll it had taken on him for giving into his urges, for finally relinquishing his hold on himself. His eyes said he’d never do it again. His eyes were a promise.
“Becks, come with me,” she cried, clutching the sheets.
He grasped her hips and owned her body where he refused to own her blood. Taking everything she would give him, but not everything he wanted. Not everything she wanted.
She was so close. She looked in his eyes and knew they would finish together.
Reyna woke up screaming.
She jolted upright in her overly plush king-sized bed with its too many pillows and too much softness. Her hair was plastered to her face. Sweat coated her body, soaking through the thin white shirt she’d worn to bed.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and she looked around the small room. Everything was in place. Nothing had changed. Not a damn thing.
Beckham wasn’t here.
It had been a dream. A sick dream. A desperate horrible dream.
Her hand moved to her cotton panties and found the slicked wetness still there. The ache still building in her lower half from lack of release. The aftereffects of the dream. It had felt so real. So very real.
She had felt him moving inside of her. She had seen the love in his eyes. She had known his remorse.
But none of that was real.
That was her imagination at work. Conjuring his face just to torture herself with his absence. Remembering the feel of his body and the love in his eyes, only to know that he hadn’t found her. Aching for one more view of him.
It had been fifty-five days since she’d last seen his face.
Reyna made a mark in the notebook next to the bed.
About the Author
K.A. Linde is the USA Today bestselling author of more than fifteen novels including the Avoiding series and the Record series. She has a Masters degree in political science from the University of Georgia, was the head campaign worker for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and served as the head coach of the Duke University dance team. She loves reading fantasy novels, geeking out over Star Wars, binge-watching Supernatural, and dancing in her spare time.
She currently lives in Lubbock, Texas, with her husband and two super adorable puppies.