Page 48 of Trapped for Her Blood
His arms lift me high on his body, like I’m a barbell he’s curling, leaving me suspended high above the ground, and I reset my hands on his back and shoulder, stroking him gently as he feeds, hoping this feels even half as good for him as it does for me. Right now, for him I am food, but it’s more than that for me, and I hope that it is for him too.
He releases his fangs, holding me high on his chest, and then rests his head against mine as he breathes deeply. I snuggle against his chest, loving how the hairs stimulate my breasts.
I’m so turned on and can’t stop my hips from swiveling in his hold, all of the soreness Zuben caused gone.
He strides over to the furs, lays me down and kneels over me, his gaze tracing my naked body, and then up to my eyes.
His widen. “You’re awake!” He leans back in clear shock.
Nodding, I reach up toward his face, but it’s too far away, so I settle for his strong upper arm. Not that the compromise is any hardship. His bicep muscles are pulsing, like the nourishment I provided is literally building muscle tissue under my hand, as if his arm’s power is expanding under my touch.
“How?” he asks, his eyes glowing, his lips red and full, his skin flush and radiant.
Now that he’s fed, the difference is obvious and I can understand how Zuben recognized what Axe needed.
“I tried to tell you,” I say softly. “My blood is different. I’m different. ”
“I don’t understand.” He shakes his head, his golden eyes full of wonder.
“Neither do I.” I smile softly, letting my body slide against the soft furs, trying to satisfy the damp heat between my legs. “Zuben understands more about my blood, I think. But at least I get why my mother told me never to go out after dark.” I grin at my joke.
“Your mother.” He sits back on his heels, his expression hardening. “Your mother thewitch.”
Shit!
Sitting up, I rest my hand on his massive arm, and it twitches under my fingers.
“I don’tknowif she was a witch.” But I don’t know that she wasn’t… “Mom never used that word. Not once. Or magic either. But she could do things that can only be explained by some kind of supernatural power.”
Axe’s struggle is clear in his eyes—desire and affection battling inside him against fear and distrust.
“Even if shewasa witch.” I lean forward. “I’mnot. And she definitely didn’t use magic like the kind that trapped you. My mother used her magic forgood. To protect me.” The idea of good and bad witches seems a littleWizard of Oz to me, but I want Axe to trust me, to see that I don’t have any powers that could cause him harm.
His eyes narrow. “What if your mother’s magic is what makes your blood affect vampires?”
I shake my head. But his suggestion hits me hard in the gut.Didmy mother turn me into whatever I am? And if so, why?
“I don’t think so.” My mind scrambles, considering the possibility even as I try to reassure Axe. “Why would she create someone who can help vampires but then keep me hidden?” But even as I say this, I think of the answer.
She did take my blood, often, telling me it was for donations.DidMom create whatever’s in my blood for her benefit? That’s crazy. She loved me so much. My loving memories of my mom are real and vivid, even if some of my memories are not.
Closing his eyes, he nods. “I’m sorry. If you say you’re not a witch, I believe you. It’s just that—”
I kneel and reach up to cup his face. “I understand why you’re wary. Your past experiences with magic were…traumatic.” I’m glad I reassured him, if not myself. I’ve got a little magic-related trauma too.
His eyes open, and his deep sadness is palpable, impacting his entire expression and posture. I wish I could wash it away. I wish I could erase all the terrible things that happened in Axe’s past.
But I do have the power todistracthim, to temporarily lessen his pain. I can offer him something we both crave, after his feeding.
I shift to kneel right in front of him as we gaze into each other’s eyes, our bodies are so close, but still only connected by my hand on his cheek. His skin’s even warmer now that he’s fed, and feels like it’s heating even more under my touch.
He’s so much taller than me. Even though I’m kneeling high and he’s sitting back on his heels, my arm is fully extended to reach up to his cheek. His lips seem far too far away.
His erection’s between us—I know that it is—but it must be flat against his belly because it’s not touching me, even as I lean toward him.
“Even if my feeding didn’t make you sleep,” he says, his voice husky. “Youshouldsleep. I drank a lot of your blood.”
“I’m not tired. In fact, your venom…” My insides are pulsing with need. All my fear about sex with Axe surpassed by desire.
