Page 12 of Thirst
His mouth moved to my jaw, my throat—and then I felt his fangs against my skin just above the choker. At the same time, his knuckle touched a sensitive spot.
I groaned and nearly came on the spot, but I forced myself to grab his wrist. “No! You can’t leave a mark. They’ll see.”
He swore under his breath and pulled his fingers out of me.
“Please,” I begged.
“Shh. I want to…” He sank to his knees, hands on my hips, and dragged his fangs over the vein on my inner thigh. He glanced up, his irises rimmed with the electric blue of an aroused vampire. “You’re going to let me, aren’t you?”
He wanted to drink from me. I twisted restlessly in his grip.
Cain didn’t usually ask. He took.
But this—letting him drink my blood—was different. Intimate in a way we’d never crossed into. People like us, with access to entire stables of syndicate thralls, didn’t drink from each other. We drank from humans.
He slid his tongue up my dripping center. “Nyx,” he rumbled, a low, give-in-to-me sound.
Everything female in me clenched in need.
I forced myself to focus on him. The glowing eyes, the sharp white fangs. The thirst on his face.
And then I wordlessly widened my stance, opening to him.
Offering myself—my blood—as a gift.
An apology for what had happened on the island, even though I’d done what I could. Still, it hadn’t been enough and I knew it.
His eyes flamed an even brighter blue. “Good girl.”
His free arm banded around my waist, holding me captive as he licked the tender skin above the vein. Slow and soft. So patient in a way I both loved and hated.
I squirmed against the cold tiles. “Just do it,” I pleaded.
He hummed an assent against my skin—and sank his fangs into me.
“Sweet Luna,” I gasped and went stiff, thigh stinging, nerves sparking.
He kept me where I was, lapping at the tiny punctures, sending the aphrodisiac in his saliva into my bloodstream. The sting turned into something hot…essential.
He followed that with a hard pull on my thigh, drinking from me.
Pleasure slammed into me, massive waves of it. My mouth opened in a silent scream. I grabbed his head, anchoring myself to keep from flying away, as I climaxed, long and hard, chanting his name.
He threw a hand up to cover my mouth, muffling my voice. A tiny part of me, the rational part, knew enough to be grateful.
He didn’t feed long, and yet, it seemed to go on forever. Taking his hand from my mouth, he withdrew his fangs and licked the small wounds clean, speeding their healing.
His mouth returned to my clit, drawing the swollen flesh into the warm cave of his mouth. Sipping and stroking and sucking until I felt another orgasm speeding at me like a runaway train. I whined and slapped my palms against the tile, hips bucking.
His fingers dug into my ass, keeping me still as he sucked hard. I lost all sense of time, knew nothing but Cain and his mouth on me.
And then I was coming for a second time, heart racing, thighs shaking.
I wasn’t one of the turned. I hadn’t died to become a dhampir. I’d been born this way, to a human accidentally impregnated by my vampire father. But I was pretty sure this was what dying felt like: a white-hot detonation behind your eyes, then a plunge into darkness.
I rasped Cain’s name, my legs melted wax, and collapsed forward.
When I could think again, I was in his lap, his arms around me, his mouth still wet with my blood.
