Page 47 of Night of the Vampire
The door opened behind me and Killian came walking out wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue jeans, his shirt in his hands. He looked better. A little less shell-shocked, at least. But still not his normal self. There was something dark going on inside of him. Something I couldn't begin to understand.
As I watched him come into the room, I realized this was the first time I'd seen him without layers of clothes covering him. And my God, he was truly like something out of a magazine. Lean and cut, the muscles in his arm and chest bunched and released as he ran a hand repeatedly through his wet hair, pushing it back off his forehead. His abs were ribbed with bands of muscle, all the way down to the sexy "V" that disappeared into his jeans. Without the long sweater he always wore, his hips were narrow, his legs powerful, but perfectly proportioned to his frame. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him.
Desire pooled lazily in my core as my pulse sped up in anticipation. I froze beside the chair, devouring him with my eyes. I couldn't help it. I was thrown. I couldn't stop looking at him. And I didn't know what was wrong with me. I'd seen plenty of good looking men in my life. I'd even had a few in my bed. But none had ever arrested my attention like Killian.
He appeared in front of me, moving too fast for my eyes to track, his hands in my hair and his shirt on the floor near our bare feet. "Don't look at me like that, Acushla."
"I can't help it," I told him honestly.
I felt him tug on my hair as his eyes roamed over my face. "I discovered something interesting tonight."
Gripping the blanket tight in my fists, as if it could possibly protect me from him, I asked, "What was that?"
He closed his eyes briefly when he heard the huskiness of my voice. "I discovered the lore about us is true. Now that I've had even just that tiny taste of your blood, any other tastes like sludge in my mouth. I can't feed without gagging. I have no desire to fuck anyone else." He paused, his eyes roaming over my face and hair. "I killed two people tonight trying to prove it otherwise."
It was hard to think with him standing so close to me, his clean skin radiating warmth and that delicious scent that was completely and utterly him. There was a hint of whiskey on his breath. Even as I struggled to resist my attraction to him, a flash of something ugly and jealous seared my insides at the thought of him being this intimate with someone else. "I thought you said they got away?"
"I said one got away. The other two weren't so lucky."
"So, you are a killer." I should be bothered by this confession, but like everything else when I was around him, the feeling was there and gone before it could take root.
"Not usually, no. But it wouldn't matter even if I was."
"Why not?"
"Because, Lizzy, you are mine. And good or bad, I'm yours."
I saw a flash of his fangs just before he captured my lips, taking what was his without asking. Without apology.
Overwhelmed by everything that was Killian, I gave him access. He moaned deep in his throat when he felt my surrender, invading my mouth much like I knew he would invade my body. My soul. If I allowed it to happen.
And, oh God, despite my fear and my anger and the other tangle of emotions he roused in me, I wanted this to happen.
Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever really had a choice. Or if what he and Jamal had told me earlier, what he was telling me now, was my only path. As much as my mind tried to fight him, my body had other plans. It welcomed him, betraying my better senses with glee. Even now, as he kissed me until I forgot who I was, forgot who he was, I wanted to lean into him so I could feel his warmth and his strength. Wanted to feel his hands on me. His mouth on my breasts. Between my legs.
Wanted to feel his fangs puncture my flesh.
And I wanted to touch him in return. I had to ball my hands into fists around the blanket to keep from doing just that.
"Touch me, Lizzy." He whispered my own thoughts against my mouth. "Please...touch me."
Gently, he tugged the blanket from my fingers and pushed it off my shoulders, letting it fall back onto the chair as he rained kisses on my lips, my cheek, my jaw.
"Touch me," he begged in my ear.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn't be doing this. People had died tonight because of him. Innocent people who'd had their entire lives before them. It horrified me.
Yet...my fingertips trailed down his chest and over his stomach, feeling the muscle tightening beneath them. He hissed softly, a different sound than when he was angry, but still causing chills to break out all over. Then he was kissing me again, moaning into my mouth with his hands wrapped in my hair to hold me still, pulling it from its bun to fall around my shoulders.
I flattened my palms, feeling the smooth texture of his skin, the soft, curly hair in the middle of his chest. I followed it with two fingers as it tapered into a trail that took me all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. Empowered by his groan of disappointment, I ran both hands up to his shoulders and hung on as his kisses became harder, more demanding. Nothing touched but our hands and lips, but the anticipation only made it more erotic.
Suddenly, he tore his mouth from mine and his head fell back on his shoulders, his mouth open on a sharp inhale. Looking at him, I was fascinated by the physical signs of his desire for me. And not just his swollen cock straining against his jeans, but the way his entire body seemed larger, harder, trembling with his need. His fangs were long, the tips needle-like and sharp. The bones in his face more prominent. And when he lowered his head and captured me with his eyes, dark and hungry...
I was lost.
"Killian." His name was a plea on my lips. I didn't know what I was pleading for. Maybe for him to release me from this spell. Maybe for him to keep me in it forever. I wanted him to touch me. And I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to forget all about me, and yet the thought of that actually happening felt like a hole cracking though the bones in my chest.
He touched the shirt I was wearing where it hung loose near my stomach, bunching the material between his fingers. Letting it fall, he watched it fall back into place. My heart was pounding so hard I felt sure I was going to pass out as I waited to see what he would do next. I didn't have to wait long.
