Page 108 of Bite Me

“Since when do you listen to anything she says? You can’t possibly think that’s true.”

She sniffs, and her head stills when she spots the bed I’ve loaded up with pillows and blankets, just in case . . .

I think she understands because her fingers curl into my shirt.

There’s nothing I want more than for her to stay.

Nothing. Not food. Not blood. Not air.

Another tear falls down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb and wipe it off.

“The last thing I want you to do is walk out that door. I’ve sat in my room all day, wishing I could come and find you,” I say.

“You . . . wanted to come find me?”

Her scent has woven its way into every fiber of my clothes and is now seeping into my pores.

She may still want nothing to do with me and will want me to escort her back to her room.

“Emma, I’m going to be your downfall. I’m so sorry. But I promise to always be here for you, however you want me to be.”

“That’s what she said . . . That this will ruin everything for me.”

If I didn’t exist, things would be better for her. If I had never blocked her from the culinary club, if my whole family had never existed. Parker would have protected her. She’d be happy. Maybe the club would be run differently.

“It might. No one will accept it. It’s only going to make both our lives more complicated. I will ruin you, Emma, if you let me. I’ll ruin everything for you right now, and then do my best to put it all back together because . . . I’m in love with you. She’s wrong about that.”

“You love me?” Another tear falls down her cheek, and she steps closer.

“I can’t help it.” I wipe her tears with my sleeve.

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were before. I don’t want something casual, and I don’t want you to marry someone else.”

“The only person I plan on marrying is you.”

Then her lips are on mine, and her saliva brings my attention back to the fact that her scent is the best it’s ever been, and nothing will satisfy this hunger till I taste every bit of her with my tongue.

“Will you make me feel better?” she sniffs.

I cup a hand under her jaw and kiss her lips again. “I will if you want me to.”

The sigh of satisfaction that leaves her is enough to flip that switch in my brain to a completely different kind of comfort.

“You won’t remember it like this. You might bruise. You’ll wake up sore. Angry.” I suck at the skin on her neck.

I’ve never wanted blood this badly. The lines blur when I lightly bite her shoulder. It’s all so close. So perfect.

“Ruin me,” she whispers.

I don’t know if I can stop kissing her. Every brush and bite of her lips sends me into near delirium.

I rip open the collar of her shirt, loosening the sleeves over her shoulders. Then I snap the clasps of her bra, leaving it on the floor. Her bare chest is illuminated by the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, and I brush my hand below the supple curve of her breast, imagining the mark of my teeth and claiming them for myself.

I’ve never sculpted anything but pasta, but I could sculpt her perfect, round breasts.

“You might hate me in the morning.”

“That’s a normal day for us.” It’s that smile that she gives when she’s joking, but it’s deflated from the day. The stress and all that pain.