Page 59 of Caller of Crows
What would it take for Altair to let Sven see those emotions again, those parts of himself he'd been hiding behind a mask of indifference? What would it take for Sven to crack his defenses and make the vampire see that what had happened once did not have to happen again?
When they were back in the bedroom, Sven turned to Altair, determined not to let him walk away so easily. "I meant it," he said. "I'm not Isabella. This wouldn't be the same."
Altair regarded him silently.
"I'm willing," Sven continued, not letting his nerves stop him. "Even if you never fall for me the way you did for her, I'm still willing."
Altair took a deep breath, his expression unreadable. He was going to turn Sven down again, Sven could tell. So Sven made his move before the vampire could say anything.
Lifting his chin, he stepped close, leaned in, and brushed his lips over Altair's.
The vampire stiffened, but he didn't move away.
Heart hammering, Sven kissed him a second time.
This time, Altair responded.
His tongue brushed against Sven's lower lip and then dipped into Sven's mouth, claiming him. Heat pooled in Sven's gut and his body hummed with a rush of arousal.
Fuck.
Altair's kiss was making him weak.
Before he could lose his nerve, he wrapped his arms around Altair's shoulders, pressing himself against the vampire.
"Thought I told you not to play games you can't win," Altair whispered against his lips.
Sven smiled and held firm. "Who says I'm playing?"
ChapterSeventeen
Altair's words died on his tongue.
He wanted Sven, wanted him so damn bad his fangs were itching, but he was afraid, too.
He'd trusted Isabella, had given his heart to her, and that had ended in tragedy. It hadn't been her fault, hadn't even really been his, but the end result remained the same, and Altair didn't want anything like that to happen to this mortal.
When Sven's body pressed against him, though, Altair wanted to claim him.
Wanted, for the first time in years, to be with someone. Not just for a night, but forever. The way a vampire was supposed to love.
But could he really have that with the mortal?
Sven had no idea what being a vampire truly entailed.
"Please," Sven whispered, brushing his lips over Altair's.
Damn it.
What was it that made him so irresistible?
He'd been fighting his desires for Sven since the beginning, but now, in this moment, his resistance crumbled. He didn't care about anything else.
All that mattered was Sven.
Sven's taste, Sven's touch, the mortal's eager surrender.
Altair growled, grabbing Sven by the waist, crushing their mouths together. He wasn't usually this unrestrained, wasn't usually this rough.
