Page 39 of Donovan
Warmth flooded through me, dulling the gnawing pain in my stomach, smoothing the jagged edges of my hunger. And then his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling slightly.
I almost lost myself completely. Too much. Too good.
I forced myself to stop, pulling back with a ragged inhale, my breathing uneven, my lips still wet with his blood, Donovan’s head lolled slightly, his eyes glazed, his lips parted.
"You okay?" I rasped, my voice rough with guilt.
He blinked up at me, dazed, his breathing heavy.
"Yeah," he whispered. Then, a faint, teasing smirk tugged at his lips. "Told you you'd feel better and honestly? I kind of enjoyed it?”
“You what?” I asked in disbelief.
“I thought it would hurt more but it didn’t,” he explained. Donovan flushed for no explainable reason. “The first moment did but after? It was kind of hot.”
I stared at him like I had never seen him before. Kind of hot?
He had just let me sink my fangs into him, let me feed from him, and instead of pulling away in disgust or fear, he was looking at me like he wanted to do it again.
Like he wanted more.
"Donovan," I said, disbelieving.
He just shrugged, his smirk softening, but there was something dark and knowing in his eyes. "Face it, Declan. You’re stuck with me,” Donovan said.
Before I could think of something, anything to say, he leaned in and kissed me. And I was gone.
A shudder rolled through me as his lips met mine, warm and insistent, like he had been waiting for this. Like he had been starving for this just as badly as I was.
I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I kissed him back, hard, gripping the back of his neck and dragging him closer, needing to feel him, needing to take.
Donovan let out a quiet sound, half gasp, half moan, and the heat between us ignited, sharp and blinding. I could still taste his blood on my tongue.
He fisted his uninjured hand in my shirt, pulling at the fabric like he was trying to bring me impossibly closer. Like he wanted to be consumed.
I groaned, tilting my head, deepening the kiss, drinking him in like I had all the time in the world. He wasn’t fragile and he wasn’t careful.
He kissed me back with everything he had, reckless and eager, his fingers sliding under my shirt, pressing against my bare skin, burning hot.
I needed more and I needed him. I didn’t even realize I had lifted him until I heard the startled sound he made against my lips.
His legs wrapped around my waist like instinct, his breath hitching as my hands slid down to cup the backs of his thighs, holding him against me.
"Declan—" he started, but I swallowed his words with another kiss, carrying him across the room, barely able to think.
The world had shrunk to this moment, to him, his taste, his heat, the way his body fit against mine like it belonged there.
I kicked the bedroom door open, barely noticing the way it hit the wall, barely caring, because Donovan was already kissing down my jaw, making my head spin.
I dropped him onto the bed, following him down before he could take his next breath. His heart was pounding so loudly in my ears.
The hunger in my chest had shifted. No longer just thirst, but something deeper, something hotter, something I had been fighting for so long.
I ran my fingers up his sides, dragging his shirt up with them, desperate to feel him, all of him. Donovan arched into my touch, breathless, eyes dark with heat.
"You still think this is a bad idea?" he whispered, voice teasing, but there was something raw in it, something aching.
I cupped his face, brushing my thumb over his swollen lips. I should have said yes. Should have stopped but I didn’t.
