Page 52 of When Bones Whisper
“Don’t do that.”
His brow creased. “What?”
“Ignore my questions.”
“You didn’t ask me one.”
Her chest heaved, heart racing. Katherine also told her what vampire blood would do to her, and she wasn’t lying. Her gaze drifted south, and a blush crept up into her cheeks as she caughtsight of his length beneath his thin nightshirt. He was huge and he wasn’t even erect.
“Charlotte, don’t.” Her name left his mouth in a plea and God had it had never sounded so good.
A twinge nestled into the crevices of her ribcage, making it harder to breathe. Heat throbbed in her lower stomach when he placed his palms on his knees, his fingers flexing. All she could think was how she wanted them between her legs, kneading the tension building between them. She arched herself against the sheets, a whimper leaving her lips.
“It’s the blood,” he said, his voice tight with restraint. “It will pass. I must return to my room.”
“Wait,” she said, not sure why she needed him to stay. Or why she wanted him to. It was the blood, but intermingled with the desire that already confused her, he was suddenly completely irresistible. Especially when his fangs slid out over his lips. Heat flushed her cheeks when she thought about all the places she wanted to feel them on her, sliding into her thighs, between her legs.
“Stay,” she said breathily. “I know you feel it too,” she said, her stomach dipping at her newfound courage. It was only lust, but it was undeniable and right then, it was all she could think about.
His nostrils flared. “Careful, little lamb.”
“I’m tired of being careful,” she confessed and licked her lips. “I want to taste you again. I want to—”
“What Katherine said was true,” he interrupted her, his eyes darkening when she sat herself up and leaned toward him,looking at him in a way she hadn’t before. “When I drank from you, it created a link between us, one that is usually broken by death. Your blood was in my veins, your emotions and memories mixing with my own. I never let anyone live before, and since I did, all I can think about day and night,” he said in a deep, baritone voice stalking closer, slowly bringing his lips so close the bottom grazed over hers, “is tearing open your throat and devouring you until there is nothing left.”
She dragged her fingers over her throat, breath hitching. “You wouldn’t. You need me.”
“I am trying,” he growled. “But the thought of you consumes me. I crave you, Charlotte Lovett.” His lips twitched. “I crave your death.”
She swallowed thickly, her mouth drying. His words dimmed the effect of his blood, although heat still coursed through her.
They remained locked in eye contact until he grunted and turned away without looking back, stalking out of the room, leaving her behind in a puddle of hormones and embarrassment.
Chapter Sixteen
Later that evening, Charlotte awoke to Nathaniel’s grave voice resonating through the dark of her bedroom. “You’re awake.”
The thought of him so close scorched a path to her thighs, a mixture of fear and lust dragging her breaths. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered into the darkness, hesitantly climbing out of the bed, dragging the sheet with her. “We can’t be alone.”
While he needed her alive to break his curse, he was going against his nature and if they were alone, he might not be able to stop himself.
I crave you.
His words from yesterday haunted her, the sound stillpurring in her ears.
I crave your death.
Their dynamic had been established since the moment he’d first pressed her against the wall in Lovett Manor. He was a wolf, and she was a lamb, meant to be sacrificed for the satisfaction of the predator. It was foolish of her to believe she could reason with the beast, when his true nature desired to slaughter her.
A pair of gray eyes pinned her from the doorway. She backed up to the bed, her calves hitting the iron frame. “Don’t,” she intoned, her thighs clenching when he walked over to her, one hand in his pocket, the thick veins of his arms showing from under his rolled-up sleeves.
The high from his blood carried her senses far from reason.
It was not Nathaniel who walked into the spray of moonlight in front of her, but the monstrous version of him. His pupils slit vertically against a charcoal black and saliva glistened on the three rows of razor-sharp fangs that sucked in labored breaths.
With a slow tilt of his head, not once breaking his intrusive hold on her gaze, Nathaniel pressed a clawed finger under her chin. A low growl rumbled in his chest when he removed the distance between them, tilting her chin with the curled knuckle of his index finger so she couldn’t avert her eyes.
Not that she could even if she wanted to. Staring into the soul of a vampire was as captivating as it was terrifying. Sparks shot through her stomach and with one stuttered breath, she whispered, “I’m the only one who can break your curse.”
