Page 76 of Given

“Yes.”

“Do all prayers require bloodletting?”

Even in his weakened state, he managed to raise an eyebrow. “Your religious education is woefully lacking. It’s scandalous, really.”

If he could joke like this, maybe he wasn’t as bad off as he looked. “What did you pray for, Your Grace?”

“I told you to call me Laurent when we’re alone.” He reached out and tugged a lock of hair that had spilled over my shoulder. “I wonder if you’ll ever do as you’re told, Princess.”

I took his hand. His fingers were like sticks. “I’ll call the priests.”

“No.” The word emerged as an order, his voice stronger as he tightened his grip. “Give me your vein.”

“My vein?”

Amusement kindled in his silver eyes. “You know how feeding works by now, yes?”

My face heated. “Of course…” I had no reason to refuse. But memories of dinner—and his power—swirled in my mind. I wished I knew of a way to fight the arousal that would inevitably accompany his bite.

He didn’t give me time to reconsider. He brought my wrist to his mouth and latched on hard.

Pain…then fire. Heat blasted me, streaking in a sizzling path from my wrist to the juncture of my thighs. In an instant, my underclothes were soaked. A low-pitched moan spilled from me as my inner muscles clenched. But now I knew what my body craved. It longed for the fullness of his fingers inside me. The stroke of his tongue against the most sensitive part of me.

He’d ruined me at Lar Satha. Opened doors I could never close again. Waves of desire built higher and came faster, crashing one on top of another until I couldn’t hold back. I tipped over the edge with a strangled cry, my hips rolling helplessly as a powerful orgasm swept through me.

He continued to drink, his throat working as he took deep pulls from my wrist.

It’s too much. The thought formed, but I couldn’t act. Could only watch through bleary eyes as he drained me. Slowly, his color returned. His face filled out, his looks and youth restored. The fatigue left his expression, and his irises glowed like molten metal. His hand holding my arm tightened, his fingers supple and strong.

Fear licked through me. What if he took everything? There was no one to stop him. Maybe no one could stop him. He claimed he wasn’t a priest, but he worked in dark blood magic. I’d felt its grip as I took him down my throat. Panic fluttered, but I was already too weak to wrench away.

My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Then it seemed to pound through the room. It filled my head. Shook me like a giant’s steps rocking the floor under my knees. Black gathered at the corners of my vision. Just as it smeared over everything, Laurent tore his mouth away. Big hands went under my armpits, and then the room spun as he lifted me and rolled me under him.

“Here,” he said, the word echoing around the bed as something hard pressed against my lips. It pushed into my mouth, and his blood touched my tongue.

Sugar and liquid fire. It slid down my throat, quickly filling all the empty hollows he’d created. Within seconds, my head was clear.

And I was pinned under a very nude—and very aroused—King of Nor Doru.

His power filled my veins, the rush of it almost too much for my body to contain. Emboldened, I swung my fist.

He caught it and pressed my hand to the pillow beside my head. When I screeched and swung the other one, he caught that, too.

He held himself over me, his breath tickling my cheek. “It’s a capital offense to strike the king.”

I lifted my head. “Another trick?”

“What trick?”

“You lured me in here so you could drink from me.” I strained against his grip, but it was useless. He held me effortlessly, his long fingers pinning mine to the bed. His erection pressed hard between my aching thighs, my layers of skirts the only barrier between us.

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your memory is faulty, Princess. You sought me out.”

Damn him, that part was true. “You still drained me.”

“And I filled you back up.” He gave me more of his weight, his hard length nudging my throbbing center. “You took me a lot easier this time.”

The double meaning tightened my nipples and quickened my breaths. My heart pounded, each beat echoing between my legs. I was no stranger to men’s bodies. I’d seen Rolund’s knights train shirtless more times than I could recall. On a few occasions, I’d watched in secret as the men-at-arms flung buckets of water over each other in the courtyard. Their naked flanks had been pale and unappealing, like a broiled chicken thigh.

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