Page 51 of When Bones Whisper
In an effort to undo the tightness in her shoulders, she rolled them back, groaning as she turned onto her side.
She stretched her neck, letting out a soft moan, and quickly opened her eyes.The bond.
Katherine told her not to be alone with Nathaniel and there she was, elongating her neck in front of a vampire that craved her above all else.
Slowly, she sat upright when Nathaniel did.
“Let me help you,” he offered in a deep tone. Before she could react, one set of his fangs elongated, the sharp points slicing into the skin of his wrist. With a swipe of his thumb, he collected a few drops and brought them to her lips. “Drink,” he murmured, eyes darkening as he tipped her head back. “My blood suits you,” he said silkily when he painted her mouth with it, leaning back to appreciate his art.
Her mouth fell open and in a moment of madness and desperation, she licked the blood from her lips, surprised at how un-blood-like it tasted. His essence tingled on her tongue, sending sharp shocks into the roof of her mouth and throat. She dragged her fingers up her neck, her palm pressing over the area that tingled with desire.
“More,” she begged when the tingling shot through her body, eclipsing the pain in her legs.
Wild-eyed, he pushed the wound on his wrist to the mouth. She closed her lips around it, swallowing as mouthfuls leaked into her mouth.
Katherine was right. It was unlike anything she’d experienced. She never would have thought she would enjoy drinking blood, but his was sweet, vibrant, and fizzled on her tongue like an explosion of bubbles. The wound quickly healed, and he pulled back, watching as crimson liquid dripped down her chin and onto her fingers.
Duke purred from the sheets beside her, as if he could feel the effects too.
Nathaniel’s other hand ran up her back, sinking into her curls, his thumb stroking the back of her head.
“Good girl,” he said in a deep purr as he stared down through hooded eyes, lips slightly parted, as if he was enjoying it as much as she was.
With her tongue, she licked the rest of the blood on her lips, before cleaning herself with the sleeve of her nightgown.
Lying back down, she shifted back onto herself, her back facing Nathaniel, and mumbled, “You taste good.”
With a low hum, he pressed his lips against her hair. “It will help, but it won’t heal you permanently.”
“I’ve tried everything the doctors suggested,” she whispered with her eyes closed. “Nothing has helped, but that does.”
“There are so many more things we can try.”
“We?”
“After you break my curse, I can help you. I have the means,” he said, likely referencing his wealth and connections.
“Why would you do that?”
“Move onto your stomach,” he ordered after seeing her wince again, and entirely ignoring her question. She did but instinctively pulled her hair around her throat.
Hands landed on her shoulders as the bed dipped behind her from Nathaniel’s weight. He pressed his fingertips onto her shoulders, releasing the tension woven into her muscles. Every touch glided over the contours of her shoulders and neck, each stroke unraveling the knots. His strokes were firm, but gentle, the kneading moving up to the back of her neck.
She wanted to ask him why he did that, or to stop him so he wouldn’t get too close to her throat, but his massage felt too good. A sigh whispered from her lips as tingles cascaded down her spine, pooling in her lower back.
Time fell away with each ebb and flow of her breaths, surrendering to his strong fingers. Somehow, he knew exactly where to press harder and when to go lighter, as if he could sense what she was feeling.
Duke watched them both, his paw on the top of her hand, claws softly extending out every so often as if to say he was there and wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.
He ran his palms over her back and then worked his fingers up her neck, behind her ears and into her hair. A second, involuntary moan whimpered in her throat when he massaged her head, releasing the pressure from her building headache.
When he eventually stopped, she shifted back onto her side and looked at him. Sweat beaded her skin, sticking strands of her black hair to her forehead.
“Katherine told me about the bond,” she said as the pain dissolved into the usual low thrum of agony—her normal. Slowly, a fire crept through her thighs, pooling between them and her blood-painted lips pouted when he didn’t immediately answer. Duke jumped off the bed, spotting something in the hallway behind the open door and darted out.
She watched him leave and turned her attention back to Nathaniel.
“You’re feverish,” he said.
