Page 6 of House of Crimson Hearts
Her blood seeps into the back of my shirt.
“Do you want my blood?” she breathes against my neck, her lips skimming my skin and sending sparks of heat and fury down my spine.
“I asked you a question,” she says, her breath tickles my skin. I want to yank myself away.
Instead, I lean closer. “Why the hell do you want me to drink your blood? So you can track me? I’m not a fucking idiot. I know the minute I ingest a single drop, you’ll be able to find me wherever I am.”
She shrugs against my back. “Only for an hour or so.”
“An hour too long. Besides, you only love this game of chase because no one else will come near you.”
The space between our bodies cools. I’ve pissed her off. She moves behind me, then brings two fingers up to my face, her blood dripping off them.
My nostrils flare. Fuck. It smells like ecstasy. Like a thousand nights of bliss, and every secret whispered in the wind. I want it. I need it.
No, no, no. Get a grip, Red.
I wriggle against her, but her grasp on me is like steel.
“You want me,” she says. “So take me.”
The problem is, I do want her, or at least I want her blood. I’m not an idiot. I know I’m an addict. But I’ve been clean for two weeks. Which makes what happens next even worse. It makes me weak. I’m going against every ounce of training I’ve ever had. I made one stupid mistake trying blood—I can barely even remember it anymore—and I’ve been paying for it ever since.
I lean a little closer to her fingers.
In the boat below, a couple stop fucking to look up at us on the bridge. My skin is electric at the thought of them watching what happens next.
I have to fight the urge to bite her fingers clean off. The scent of her iron-rich blood is overpowering.
“Yes,” she says. “Do it. Give in. Succumb to your desire.”
I slow my breathing. Inhaling through my mouth instead of my nose to prevent the delicious smell reaching my tastebuds. But it’s no use. I’m still leaning closer.
Her body presses into my back, her enormous breasts pushing against my shoulder blades, making my knickers wetter. Excitement pools between my thighs.
I know what happens if I lick that blood and it’s nothing good. Nothing I want. I do not want to fuck the woman who turned my sister.
And yet, my lips part. Every breath is laboured as I will myself to stop. My body is tense and alive. The restriction of my hands, the friction of her chest against my back, pushing me into the stone railings.
“Say it,” she whispers into my ear. “Say you want it and it’s yours.”
I close my eyes, the words come tumbling out. “I want it.”
She pushes her fingers into my mouth. “That’s it, Red. Take it like the good little blood slut you are.”
I suck her fingers into my mouth, my tongue rolling over her skin, lapping and sucking her deeper.
My tastebuds explode.
She’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. I glance up at her, those crimson eyes boring into me. She smiles as she pulls her fingers out, lingering on my lip, and then she sucks them into her own mouth and my pussy clenches.
If I thought my body was alive before, this is like nothing else. Adrenaline fires through my veins, tingles and butterflies race to my extremities. Blood floods to my clit. I gasp at the pulsing need throbbing between my legs. I knew this would happen. Blood makes everyone horny. But Octavia is one of the original three. This need surging around me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
“You want something else, don’t you?” Octavia says.
I lean my forehead against the bridge. The rope chafes, burning the skin around my wrists. “Fuck,” I growl. Annoyed with myself for succumbing, knowing where this is going. I grit my teeth. “Yes, I want something else.”
“Hmm, and what is it you want, Red? Use your words,” she hums against my back.
