We had plenty of time for Paul to feast and for us both to come at least once more.

As his tongue lapped at me and my limbs weakened with the approach of dawn, I wondered if he'd continue eating me out after I slept. Some men liked going down, but Paul obviously loved it, though I wasn't quite sure if it was him or if it was the wolf in him.

It wasn't Paul I should have been worried about.

When I awoke I was being eaten, but not by Paul.

Blood was ...