Page 20 of Blood Submission

Where the fuck had that comefrom?

But he found that it was true. At least for tonight. Slowly, so as not to make her run, he allowed himself to do what he’d wanted to do since he’d found her collapsed on the kitchen floor. He dropped his hand, palming her breast through the thin material of her shirt. Her nipple puckered into his palm, even through her bra, and he cocked his head and smiled as the blood rushed into her face. He pinched it between his fingers—hard.

Instead of pulling away, her body lurched forward into his touch. She caught herself right away and tried to cover the reaction by stepping back out of his reach, but it was too late. He’d seen her response. He’d felt it. He could smell the scent of her lust rising to mix with the stench of herfear.

Dropping his arm back down to his side, he taunted her. “Are you afraid of me, little mouse?”

She didn’t answer him, but her eyes skitteredaway.

“Good. You should be afraid. I could kill you instantly with little more than a flick of my wrist.” Her trembling returned, and a tear leaked from her eye to run down her cheek. Dante tracked it, following its path down over her fragile jawline. It disappeared as it followed the curve of the bone, and then reappeared to make its way down her graceful throat, only to disappear again under the neckline of her shirt. He mourned its loss, jealous of its ability to touch that soft skin so intimately.

Grinding his jaw, he reminded himself that she was not his to care for. This human…this woman…was more. She was better than that, deserved more than his depraved existence could give her. Dante recognized her worth, in spite of her being a lowly mortal.

And that made him hate her. Made him want to bring her down to his level. Made him want to prove to her that she was no better than he was. She was human. She was inferior. She was nothing.

With one step, he was on her. A quick tug had the hair band out of her hair. The dark strands tumbled around her shoulders, thick and soft, as the fragrance of her shampoo wafted to his nose. Dante cupped the back of her skull, took a handful of that silky hair, and yanked her head back. Laney winced, but didn’t cry out. His eyes travelled over her face—eyes tightly shut, but her jaw clenched in defiance—and his admiration for her grew. His eyes dropped to her exposed throat. A groan escaped him as he studied the blue vein pulsing in her neck, clearly visible to him through the near translucent skin. Thirst burned his throat and cramped his still-healing muscles. His hand tightened in her hair, eliciting another wince. He needed to feed. Just enough to ease his suffering.

Drawing his fist in toward him, he brought her closer, and lifted her throat to his waiting fangs. His other arm wrapped around her body to hold her tight against him. She resisted, her hands pushing against his chest even as her feet dangled a foot from the carpet.

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t killme.”

With an animalistic growl, he struck her throat. The first mouthful of her blood was fucking heaven. The second was even better. He fed from her like a male starving, each swallow hitting his gut and then spreading through his starving body, sending healing power into his emaciated muscles. Nerve endings sparked to life as her blood burned through him in the very best possible way, igniting his senses. His manhood swelled, throbbing within the confines of his pants. Smells became stronger, his sight became clearer, his skin more sensitive until he felt reunited with the elements aroundhim.

Until he nearly felt as one with the woman in his arms. Almost.

MINE. Caught up in the blood lust, the word crashed through him, reverberating like thunder.

“Dante….”

Her plea broke through his sense of euphoria, the sound of his name on her tongue causing him to moan in pleasure.

“Dante, please,” she whimpered.

His hand loosened in her hair, just enough so that he wasn’t hurting her. He extracted his fangs, licking the wounds to heal them. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips had replaced his teeth, and he was kissing his way down her smooth throat, following the trail the tear had made. He could still taste its salty essence. Laney made a little sound in her throat, part distress and part passion.

Dante tightened his hold on her, carefully, so as not to break her fragile bones, and carried her the short distance to the bed. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. And even if he had, it wouldn’t have stopped him. He just knew that he needed to be closer to this female. Laying her across the bedspread, he released her to pull his shirt up and off. Then his hands went to the waistline of his pants, quickly undoing them to ease the pressure there, but he didn’t take them off. Not yet. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he freed his sex pulsing painfully within.

The entire time her eyes travelled over him as if she was just as caught up in the spell weaved around them, her brown eyes wide in her pale face and darkened in passion.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered huskily.

She blinked. Once. Twice. The haze in her eyes cleared. Then she frowned and shook her head. “No. I won’t.”

Dante’s upper lip rose in a sneer, exposing his fangs. “I said, take themOFF.”

“No.” Pushing herself into a sitting position, she stared him right in theeye.

Dante cocked his head and studied this small female. She had just managed to do something no one else had done for as long as he could remember—knock him for a loop. The color was gone from her skin, and she was so weak that she swayed where she sat, yet she stared up at him with eyes that sparked with glorious defiance.

And Dante found he could do…nothing.

He was caught in a quandary. He wanted her naked. He wanted her naked five fucking minutes ago. But yet, he was hesitant to force her because he knew it would hurt her. Something he’d never had an issue with before.

No, not just hesitant. He really couldn’t. He opened his mouth to tell her again to strip, but no words came out. He reached out with his mind, but she had raised her mental shields, and he could find no way around them without the influence of his blood. He couldn’t even bring himself to force her to feed from him. For the first time in his long life, he cared about what his victim wanted.

It completely fucking unnervedhim.

Turning on his heel, he strode out of the hotel room, slamming the door shut behindhim.

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