Page 48 of Cruel Destinies

I looked back at Julian, who was petting the cat now, a curious expression on his face. The gray-and-white fur looked like it belonged, perfectly meshing with Julian’s admittedly boring choice in wardrobe. My vampire looked so adorable.

I put my hands on my cheeks. I wasn’t dying with fatigue. Maybe that was the difference? “How do you feel?”

He gave me a sideways glance but didn’t respond.

Concern flared in my gut, and I scooted closer, putting my hands on his upper arm, forgetting all about the cat. “Julian, what is it?”

Oh god, is he dying? Is he in pain and just doesn’t want to tell me?

“I made sure to drink more than I needed to before seeing you,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t expect this spell to drain me so.”

“Are you hurt?” I asked, my tone pitching high with my worry.

“Yes—no, I’m…” He said the broken words through clenched teeth, strain clear on his expression. “Thirsty.”

When his eyes met mine, that familiar predatory gleam was there, just like the day he’d attacked me just over there, against that curtain. My pulse spiked again, my insides aching with this dark and exciting threat.

I lifted my hand toward his face and tentatively brushed my fingertips over his cheek.

“What are you doing?” he practically growled, but with fear rather than menace.

“Let me help you with that,” I purred, scooting even closer.

“Shea,” he grunted in warning. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do,” I insisted. “It’s my fault that you’re so drained, and I can offer you a quick fix.”

He shook his head, but I cupped his cheek with my palm to stop him.

“We both want this,” I said as seductively as I could. “Let me give this to you.”

His forehead wrinkled like he was in agony, even as he pressed his hand over mine on his cheek. “What if I can’t stop?”

Holy shit, why is that so hot!?

“I have faith in you,” I cooed, lifting up with my knees and leaning closer to brush a kiss over his full lips.

He was so stiff with restraint that no part of his body moved until my lips parted from his. Raising my free hand over my shoulder, I pulled the tail of my hair back to one side, exposing my neck right in front of his conflicted face.

“Bite me,” I whispered.

He inclined toward me slowly and touched his lips to my throat, and I swooned at the feather-light contact. His breath tickled my flesh, and he pressed his lips more firmly against my skin.

With the brush of his arm, he pushed the ornery cat off his lap and rose on his knees, too, to pull me into an intimate and gentle embrace as he opened his mouth over my neck. But he didn’t so much as graze me with his fangs, just kissed and licked and sucked, making me burn with desire for him.

I pressed closer against his hard, powerful body, gleeful to feel the bulge of his desire for me—or at least my blood. I slid my hand between our bodies and rubbed my palm over the solid ridge beneath his pants.

He hissed against my throat. “Shea.”

“Take what you need,” I implored as I pressed my palm up and down in a slow rhythm.

With a final, pained groan, he spread his mouth wide over my neck and sunk his teeth in, the pierce of his fangs shooting pleasure and pain from my neck to my core.

I cradled the back of his head with one hand while I continued to rub and cup his hard groin with the other. I wanted to please him because the sensation of him sucking on me was amazing!How could this feel so damned good? It was like a constant orgasm with no wax or wane.

And he drank from me slowly, as if savoring the taste of me. In this moment, he was no monster but a god. And I was more than willing to be his sacrificial lamb.

I wanted to urge him to do more to my body, to take me in every way, but I could tell he was struggling to restrain himself. I wanted him to prove to himself that he could do this with me, without fear of consequence or over-indulgence. But I couldn’t stop myself from stroking the material over the tip of his cock with my fingers.

---