Page 86 of Vampire so Virtuous
She didn’t answer, just shook her head. “I’m leaving. Stay the fuck away from me, Antoine.”
She turned for the door, hurrying the last few paces across the room, and he waited until her hand was on the handle before he moved. In a blink, he was behind her—one hand flat against the door, holding it closed, the other pressed against the wall. His lips brushed against her ear. “Why do you think I won’t hurt you,ma chérie?”
She tugged at the door handle in vain, the sharp, high-pitched gasp of frustration betraying her anxiety. When it didn’t budge, she pushed against him, attempting to force him back—but he had no desire to move. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant; her body pressed into his, both firm and soft, her efforts futile.
The sharpened stake was still in her fist, yet she hadn’t tried to stab him with it.
Instead, she stopped tugging at the door handle, her movements slowing as she seemed to accept there was no hope of escape. She drew herself upright before answering his question. “Because you care.”
“Oh?” He took a deep breath, inhaling the air around her. To his surprise, the spice of her fear had lessened. It was still there, though less potent, and on balance he found her scent more pleasant without it. “How did you reach such an unlikely conclusion?”
“Because you protected me from that other vampire. Minh, or whatever his name is. If you didn’t care, why not let him kill me?”
“Perhaps I merely wished to deny him the pleasure.”
“I don’t think so. You’d have killed me already.” She turned her head to look at him, their faces almost touching. “If you didn’t care, why interveneat the police headquarters?”
He was silent, breathing in her smell as he considered her words. It made him uncomfortable to be analyzed so. No one else had ever spoken to him in such a way. Certainly never a chattel.
She wasn’t done. “If you don’t care, why did you call me ‘ma chérie’ and kiss my hand in the parking lot? Or watch me leave the police station?”
So she’d sensed him. He wouldn’t have expected the mark to embed so fast—though given it was different, maybe it had activated by then. Or maybe she’d seen him.
He gently brushed her hair away to expose her neck. “If you merely wanted me to leave you alone, wouldn’t you have simply stayed away, or tried to run?” She shivered at his touch, her body trembling against his, and the sensation stirred him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “Should I deprive myself of the pleasure you offer, when you make yourself so available?” He brushed his lips against her neck. “I think you are here because you want to be here.”
She trembled again. “No, I…”
He extended his fangs and bit, relishing the sensation as they sank into her soft skin, letting her feel the sharp sting of his teeth piercing her flesh, then the contrast as his serum flooded her senses, pleasure unraveling the pain in an intoxicating rush.
Her blood was as exquisite as he remembered—so rich, so potent, so unlike all the others he’d fed upon since her. Her taste exploded across his tongue, vibrant and decadent, as if he’d been starving for it all this time. A low, involuntary moan escaped him, the sound vibrating against her skin. He drank in small, measured sips, savoring each mouthful, prolonging the experience for both of them.
She gasped, her body arching as if to escape him, but instead, she pushed back into him. This time, he made no effort to cloud her mind. Her moan echoed his, soft and breathless, and her head lolled to the side, exposing her neck further, an unspoken invitation. The stake slipped from her fingers, and she didn’t seem to notice. He slid one arm around her waist, pulling her sharply against him, anchoring her as he fed.
He hadn’t needed to feed. This was indulgence, pure and simple. She’d flaunted her defiance, dared him with her presence, and now he was giving her what she craved, whether or not she would admit it. Her small, breathy whimpers told him everything she would not. Each pull of her blood set her trembling, the pitch of her sounds rising higher and higher until her body tensed then shuddered against him. The scent of her grew so much stronger,and it was delicious. He held her tighter, supporting her as her pulse hammered beneath his lips.
One hand clutched his arm—not to push him away, but as though to steady herself. Finally, her muscles slackened, and she moaned, a sound of surrender wrapped in pleasure.
Then came a gasp—a small, sharp note of horror cutting through her haze.
He stopped then, for it had been enough, and licked over her wound to seal it. He’d been careful to take little; too much, and she’d grow lightheaded, perhaps faint, and he wanted her fully present.
“Was that what you wanted?”
“Fuck… you…” she breathed, her tone defiant but her body betraying her words as she leaned back against him. Her head rolled loosely, still caught in the aftershocks of pleasure.
“We could do that too, if you wish.” He licked her neck again.
Her response was another whimper, soft and conflicted. She twisted and pushed against him, her eyes widening as she felt his bare chest through the vee of his dressing gown.
He moved back only because he wished to, not because she could possibly have affected him—despite her surprising strength. The absence of his support left her swaying unsteadily. He readjusted his slipped gown while she reached for the door, steadying herself as she glared at him, her defiance returning swiftly.
“Never,” she said, her voice husky, raw with emotion. “I’ll never fuck you.”
“It was your suggestion.”
Her hand shot toward him, aiming to slap his face. He had all the time in the world to react. Step aside? Let the blow land? It wouldn’t harm him, though it might hurt her more than she anticipated.
In the end, his hand flashed up faster than she could see, grasping her wrist firmly but gently. “I’ve had more than my fair share of being struck by women, Cally, and I have no wish to experience it again.” There was an edge to his tone, one he didn’t have to force—his memories had done the work for him—and her eyes widened in surprise. Her fingers curled as her tension ebbed, offering him no resistance. He released her wrist, and she lowered her arm, her glare softening—though only slightly.
