Page 49 of Trapped for Her Blood
I draw a full breath, my chest expanding as if it’s reaching toward him. “I feel energized from your venom, stronger and…sexy.” My fingers slide over his face and into his hair, coaxing him to bend, to kiss me, to take me into his arms.
Finally his head lowers, and I tip up my face, hoping to meet his lips when they reach mine, but instead he touches our foreheads together.
His breaths are slow and deep as he rests against me, and the connection between our foreheads is charged. For the moment it’s enough, intimate, calming, but while his slow breathing and close contact does tame the turbulent energy that’s been racing through me since he fed, it also amps up my delicious anticipation.
Even his exhaled breaths on my skin feel erotic.
His hands rise to take my head and they’re so large they cover my entire skull, and a thrill of anticipation rushes through me. This man, so sexy and powerful, so gentle and sad, soferocious, this manwantsme.
And my body aches for him, my skin tingles and moisture pools between my legs. I don’t know if I want to attempt full-on sex, but I do know that I long to at least kiss him. Even one of his thick fingers would be more than enough to fill me completely, and my hands could stroke his cock. We could relieve each other’s needs without risking penetration.
I touch his chest and it contracts and expands under my palm, the muscles so reactive to our connection. It makes me feel powerful, more alive and strong than I’ve ever been.
A low sound rumbles up from inside him, and I feel it against my hand long before I hear it. I’m desperate to kiss him, but while his grip around my head is gentle, it keeps me from moving my lips any closer to his.
Unable to bear the tension, I creep my knees forward, the only part of me I’m able to move. But it puts me at a strange angle, leaning back.
His body tenses, and he groans. “I can’t.”
Standing abruptly, he moves several feet away from me so quickly it all seems like one movement. I fall onto the furs.
Chapter Sixteen
Zuben
I pausenear the mouth of the cave, heart racing, prick pounding, my entire body throbbing with pent up energy. I should never have penetrated Ember’s body.
Certainly not with my cock. My actions were beyond selfish and stupid. My tongue and fingers are perfectly adequate to give her pleasure. There was absolutely no excuse for allowing my cock’s participation.
It has been centuries since I have felt so out of control. I could have hurt her,seriouslyhurt her. The vagina of a human female is not designed to take the rapidity or force of the violent pounding meted out by a vampire cock—not without injury.
And humansdefinitelyaren’t made to take the kind of pain I am driven to inflict. Even though I have inflicted it on many humans in my past—far in my past.
I lean my forehead against the rock, trying to lengthen my breaths, trying to meditate, to do anything to tame the infernal stiffness in my pants. But my mind is racing along with the blood still pooling in my ramrod rigidity. Now that my cock has awoken from its long slumber it might take decades to tame it again.
Using one technique that used to work for me, I slam my forehead against the rock, again and again, harder and harder until blood spills.
I lean forward to keep it from dripping onto my clothes. But even this pain, even my split skin and fractured skull, fail to fully distract me from my memories of Ember, the taste of her, the softness of her touch, the tightness of her pussy as I pumped as slowly as I could inside her, fighting each thrust.
I slam my head a few more times, the blood pooling on the tunnel floor. If I keep up this form of self punishment, I will need blood again soon. While it’s unthinkable that we will not be out of his place before the next new moon, I cannot risk taking even a taste from Ember’s veins.
I rest my head against the wall as my skull and skin knit back together. The small sip of Ember’s blood I sampled, from her cut palm the day we met, was more than enough to tell me I can never have more. And as hard as I try to convince myself that my interest in her is purely scientific, it goes far beyond that. And started even before I tasted her blood.
I do not believe in what others call romantic love, certainly not everlasting love. What people call love is only the result of hormones combining with biological sex drives to create an illusion of the mind, even more fleeting than the magic spells of a novice witch.
Logic tells me this, but I have never felt the full force of that hormonal magic working against me before. Not like this. Not like I feel when I’m around her. Fuck. It is perhaps even worse when I am not around her and unsure of her safety and happiness.
My body wants Ember so badly it’s convinced my mind that my heart wants her too.
I just need to reason through this. Think logically. I was sincere in my vow to protect her, forever, but I am too sensible, too intelligent to conflate my protective instincts with my fleeting hormonal reactions. The combination is only making my dedication to her feel like what others call love.
My head wounds have healed, and I use my handkerchief to wipe off the remaining blood, concentrating to use mind over matter to rid my body of its engorged tumescent annoyance.
Finding I cannot, and not wanting to waste any more time, I remove my tie, loosen my pants, and fix the silk accessory around my hips, trapping the rigid firmness tightly against my body. This binding will both hide the evidence of my shame, and also help reduce the friction of the sensitive skin against the wool of my slacks as I walk.
Striding through the tunnels toward the more populated part of the prison, I feel slovenly without a tie. I know that thought is foolish. I am in a dungeon, trapped with dozens of what must be the worst criminals in the supernatural world, but that knowledge only drives me to differentiate myself further. To show, through my appearance and demeanor, that I am not one of them.
Yes, I did justbehavein a most depraved manner, but at least I refrained from my most deviant urges. I am not a monster. Not anymore.
