Page 60 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Scholar
She struggled through the haze in her mind to understand what he was doing. She doubted he could have convinced Smith or another servant to donate so soon after the violence of the fight. They were all likely hiding or had fled the castle.
Marcus released the handle, then removed a vial. Miraculously, the contents were no longer solid red, but divided into fuzzy sections, including dark red and pinkish yellow. He uncapped the glass tube, grabbed a suction device, then siphoned off the top layer and dripped what remained on his tongue. The sour face he made suggested it was not pleasant, but then he grinned.
“It worked.”
She swiped for the vial, but again, he was too fast. He scraped the last of the pinkish yellow away, leaving only the red.
“There,” he said. “Drink it.”
She wrenched it out of his grip and let the contents flow into her mouth. It tasted shockingly bitter but wasn’t nearly as foul as she’d expected. It did, however, ease her pain. She scraped the remaining substance with her finger, then stuck the digit in her mouth and sucked.
“How do you feel?” Marcus asked.
She ran her teeth over her tongue. “Better.”
He peered into her face with all the seriousness of a physician.
Then she remembered his warning about what happened to newly made vampires and shuddered. “Did I hurt anyone?”
She had only vague memories of the evening. When she tried to bring them into focus, they squirmed out of her grasp.
“You did not,” Marcus said. He closed his eyes and visibly relaxed. “Thank God. It worked.”
She screwed up her nose. “You said that before.Whatworked?”
He gestured to her hand. The vial. She hadn’t realized she was clinging to it. She pried her fingers apart and let him take it.
“You figured it out.” All the time they’d spent practicing, but it had been science that had saved them.
“No. I cannot regret my discovery because we can use it to ease the suffering of unmated vampires and fledglings, but it’s not a cure. I set out to find an alternative to mating, but what I found instead was much more precious.” He dropped the vial. As it smashed to the floor, he wrapped his arms around her. “I foundyou.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Winifred was alive,and his bonded mate.
Marcus buried his nose against her neck and inhaled. Smoky air filled his lungs and made him cough, but he didn’t care. The earthy scent of humanity still clung to her skin like droplets of water after exiting a bath, but there were traces of a richer, sweeter aroma, like freshly baked cherry pie.
Her vampire strength was growing.
Her tumultuous emotions washed into his mind. Concern regarding the fire in the village, anger at her cousin’s actions, relief that she had survived the attack, curiosity regarding her new powers, and an overwhelming desire to—she cut the connection.
“Your thoughts are too loud,” she said. Then she wrenched the stiff collar of his shirt down and ran the tips of her fangs along his chest. A mere scratch, but it shot directly to his cock and made him growl. She was a fledgling but dared to show dominance over her maker.
“Wait.” He threaded his fingers in her hair and yanked, forcing her to tilt her head up. “The fire in the village.”
Her pupils dilated. “Don’t go. I can’t… I’m afraid of what I might do if you leave me alone.”
He winced at the thought of not helping, but Winifred was right. His place was at her side until she was fully in control of her new abilities and bringing her anywhere near humans would only worsen her cravings. He would have to rely on Jonathan, Cordon, and Kitty to assist in his place.
The musky scent of his mate’s arousal intensified. “Take me, Marcus.”
He brought their mouths together and kissed her roughly, spearing his tongue into her mouth so powerfully that she cut him with her fangs. The salty, almost fruity flavor of her blood was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. He moved his mouth to her collarbones and licked the smooth area of flesh that had once held her scar. The actual damage inflicted by her family would take much longer to heal, but at least she no longer had to wear her trauma on her flesh.
“Don’t hold back,” Winifred said as she clawed the few remaining buttons of his shirt. “I want all of you.”
He kicked a chair over, grasped her hips, and lifted her onto his desk. Any other night, he would have leisurely peeled each layer of clothing away to build her arousal by denying what she so desperately wanted for as long as possible, but the lust trickling through their bond eroded his patience.
“Faster,” she whined.
