Page 72 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

Flynn answered on the first ring.

“Sebastián,” he said on a rushed breath.

“Your blood belongs in your body,” I snapped, cradling the glass to my chest as I lowered myself into the armchair in the corner of my room, my limbs heavy after the long evening.

“But I’ve got so much of it.”

The light, teasing quality in Flynn’s voice twisted something inside me.

I stared at the glass in my hand, the rich crimson catching the dim light. Icouldtip it down the sink. Icouldmarch straight to Flynn’s door and return it. Both sensible options.

But the scent—Lord help me, the scent. My fingers tightened around the glass as memories of that single taste of his blood flooded back. Every cell in my body screamed for more, my hands trembling as I raised it closer.

Ten sips, I calculated. I could make it last. Draw out each precious drop.

The first taste hit my tongue and my eyes rolled back. That strange electricity I’d noticed before had intensified tenfold, crackling through me like storm clouds ready to burst. Pure ecstasy flooded my senses, a pleasure so intense it bordered on spiritual. This wasn’t mere sustenance—this was communion with something sacred.

A moan caught in my throat, and I barely managed to suppress it.

“You know, like eight pints of it or something.” Flynn’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get more out for you.”

“Flynn, I made myself clear—”

“It was just a little bit!”

The second sip hit harder than the first. My body sang with pleasure, every nerve ending alight. Before I could stop myself, a third mouthful slid down my throat.

My fangs extended with a familiar ache. For once, I didn’t fight their appearance. What was the point?

Though the gift was cool, Flynn’s blood still warmed every inch of me, sliding down like liquid silk.

“How did you even get it out?” The image of Flynn with a blade to himself turned my stomach. “Do I dare ask?”

“Well, I was just going to slash my arm a bit with a kitchen knife but then Priya helped.”

The phone creaked in my grip.Priya?What must she have been thinking? “Priyahelped?”

“Yeah! She did it all properly and everything. Disinfected it all. She only let me give you that tiny bit.”

I took a fourth sip. The fury at Priya melted away as Flynn’s essence flooded my system. My head fell back against the chair. I couldn’t truly be angry, not while I sat there nursing the glass as if it were water in a desert.

A fifth sip. Slower now, savouring.

“Are you drinking it now?” Flynn’s voice dropped lower, curious.

I couldn’t lie. Not with his blood on my tongue. “Yes.”

“Is it… good?”

Divine. Utterly divine. Beyond words.

“Yes.”

A breathy little “Oh” escaped Flynn’s lips, then his voice dropped to a whisper to ask, “What does it taste like?”

The sixth sip rolled across my tongue. Sweet copper notes mixed with something uniquelyFlynn—sea salt and citrus and sunshine. But underneath those familiar notes lurked a current buzzing beneath the surface, foreign yet intoxicating.

The seventh mouthful followed close behind. My body hummed with pleasure.

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