Material rustled. A zipper slid down. Shoes were kicked off. Anticipation quivered through me, bloodlust and moon lust at war through my system
His fingers pressed into me, and the moon heat surged, momentarily overwhelming the red tide. His touch slid back and forth through my slickness, and pleasure stormed through every nerve ending. Then he slipped two fingers inside, stroking hard. I shuddered, writhed, until it felt as if every fiber of my being was about to tear apart from the sheer force of the pleasure. Then everything did shatter and I howled the glory of it to the moon I couldn't see
But it was nowhere near enough to satisfy the hunger
He stepped closer. I snapped at him. He raised an arm and pressed it against my mouth. I reared back enough to rip into his flesh, tearing deep. He made no sound, but as his blood filled my mouth, he thrust himself into me, stroking hard and deep. It was a sensation unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Ecstasy itself
He made love to me hard and long, until the quivering in my body eased and the lust faded under the taste of his blood and sweat. Eventually, there was nothing left but sweet relief and the need to sleep. It was a need I was finally able to give in to
When sanity finally resurfaced, it was to the awareness of satin rather than wall pressing against my spine. The room was filled with a dusky light that spoke of sunset, and my body was sated, the aches distant. But all I could taste was blood. All I could remember was the rich flavor of his flesh as my teeth tore and slashed...
My stomach roiled and I clambered off the bed, running for the bathroom. I barely made it
When there was nothing left to bring up, I flushed the toilet and leaned back, closing my eyes. Beneath the taste of bile, blood still lingered. I had to get up and find something sweet to rinse my mouth out with; otherwise, I'd be sick again. But right then, I didn't have the strength to move
Footsteps approached. The softness of the tread and the scent in the air said it was Quinn. I didn't open my eyes. Didn't want to see the damage I'd done
"How did you find me?"
"I saw Talon snatch you, but the creatures stopped me from coming to your aid." He stopped in front of me, a warmth I could feel rather than see. "When I could, I called Liander, and he did a search for all of Talon's known addresses."
So Liander was the other voice I'd heard. "This place was only recently purchased by a subsidiary company, so how did you find it?"
"The subsidiary is one of the ones Jack had uncovered. Given this was a recent purchase, we took a chance."
And Talon had thought he was being so clever. But any amusement I might have felt was smothered under the apprehension of what had happened there. What I'd done
What he'd done
"I don't want to become a vampire on my death." It came out little more than a cracked whisper, and I swallowed to ease the dryness. But that only succeeded in pushing the bitter taste down my throat again, and my stomach stirred in warning. "I hate the taste of blood." Not that I'd ever tasted human blood before the moon madness, but I'd hunted enough rabbit over the years, and every time I'd sunk teeth into flesh, the rush of warm blood into my mouth had made me want to vomit. Rhoan reckoned I was a vegetarian who just wasn't willing to admit it yet
"Many vampires hate the taste in the beginning." He pressed a cup into my hand. "But you and I would have to share blood thrice, and perform a ceremony on the third occasion, before you'd turn into a vampire on your death."
I looked up, surprised. "I never knew that."
He raised an eyebrow. "If it were not so, don't you think the world would be overrun with vampires by now?"
"I never really thought about it."
He moved my hand, pressing the cup to my lips. "Rinse your mouth out. You'll feel a little better, believe me."
It wasn't water in the cup, but something that was both sweet and spicy. Whatever it was, it worked, and I did feel better once the bitter, metallic taste had fled my mouth. He took the cup, rinsing it quickly under the tap
His arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow, and the fact that it wasn't in a sling at least meant I hadn't bitten through bone. But he used his left hand rather than his right to wash the cup and turn off the tap
"How much damage did I do?"
He shrugged. "It's nothing my body can't heal."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"No." He held out his left hand, and I placed my fingers in his. He pulled me up and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering, breath warm against my skin. Then he stepped back. "I shall have scars from wrist to elbow."
If he was going to end up with scars, I'd done everything but break bone. I briefly closed my eyes. "I'm sorry."
"You were only obeying the needs of your body. The fault lies with another."
Though it was evenly said, something in his expression made me realize our time together was coming to an end. He might still want me, but he was ready to move on