Page 52 of Discovery of the Vampire
Dios mío.There was such an ache between my thighs. I barely stopped myself from offering him my wrist again.
His head dropped until his forehead was pressed against mine, his large body blocking out everything but him as the hand that had held mine slid into my hair, wrapping the strands around his fist at my nape. For a few seconds, we just breathed together as I gripped the front of his shirt, trying to ground myself.
"I'm sorry," he told me. "God, I'm sorry, Es. I didn't mean to do that. You just smellsofucking good." He raised his head, and I could see the battle warring inside of him. "All of you."
By the way he was looking at me, I knew he was talking about more than my blood. Knowing he could smell how much I wanted him, another wave of need rushed through me, and I closed my eyes, hanging on for dear life. "It's okay," I told him. "I'm fine."
But he shook his head. "It's not fine. None of this is fucking fine."
Beneath my hands, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike. Or flee. His breath hitched every time he inhaled, and his eyes—usually dancing with humor or darkened with lust—now burned with a raw vulnerability that made my chest ache.
I gazed up at him, watching a storm of emotions cross his handsome features. Vampire or not, I knew deep in my bones that he was an honorable male. His true nature shone through in every interaction we shared, in the way he carried himself with integrity even when he struggled with his own demons. It was one of the things that drew me to him, an undeniable attraction to the goodness that lay beneath the surface.
“Esme,” he started, his voice like gravel. “I..." He stopped. Started again. "This is wrong. I know this is wrong. But I can't seem to stop myself. Hell," He made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "I don't even fucking try with you.” He stepped back, putting distance between us, but his hands lingered on my waist for a moment before he finally let go. "And I should try. I should. And for that, I really am sorry. I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you. I've never been afraid of you."
Confusion pinched his features. "But, last night, you told me?—"
"I lied," I admitted. I couldn't stand to watch him torture himself like this. "I lied to you last night. I wasn't afraid of you then. And I'm not afraid of you now." I took a step toward him, but he retreated as I did, keeping some space between us. "I wanted you last night, Brogan." Just like I did now. "And there's nothing wrong with wanting another person." I understood his passion because that fire burned in my blood, too. It was nothing to be ashamed of. "And please, stop fucking apologizing to me."
"You don't understand," he stated, his tone tense, bearing a burden more profound than I could comprehend. Green eyes met mine, pleading with me to listen, and I could see it then—the struggle, the conflict that tore him apart. “Every goddamn time I touch you, there's a war raging inside of me, Es. A battle between what I crave with every cell of my body and what I've been conditioned to believe." His hand trembled slightly as he reached for me, then dropped his arm before he made contact.
I could see how much this confession cost him, the vulnerability he hated to show. Every fiber of my being longed to comfort him, to help him break free from the chains of his past. But it wouldn't be that simple. The war he spoke of was one he'd have to win himself, no matter how badly I wanted to be his ally. And right now, I had my own battles to fight.
"The desire that I feel for you is a sin. But God, Iwantyou."
Now it was my turn to be confused. "You're a vampire," I told him. "Don't you feel this blood lust every day?"
He ran a hand through his hair, his movements jerky, frustrated. “Yes, I’m a vampire. My desires aren't just a sin; they're dangerous. They're fucking lethal. But I can normally tamp them down while I do what I need to do to survive. But with you...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “With you, it’s like I can’t breathe. Like I’m drowning in it.”
My heart began to pound. “You're not some kind of monster. There's nothing wrong with the way you feel for me.”
He let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow. “Aren’t I? Look at me. I just drank your blood. Again. I lost control.Again. Last night I fucked you in a dirty alley because that control was so far beyond my reach, it never once occurred to me to stop. Not ONCE." The muscles in his jaw jumped. "That’s exactly who I fucking am.”
“You did stop when I asked you to,” I reminded him, my voice firm. “Just now. You stopped.”
“This time,” he shot back, his eyes snapping to mine. “But what about next time?"
"There doesn't have to be a next time. We can just stay away from each other until I leave the city." Even as I said the words, something cracked inside of me that I didn't know if anyone else could ever repair. But that was ridiculous. I'd only known this male for a few weeks.
He stilled, staring at me. "You’re not serious about that."
I forced the words out. "I'm very serious." I realized then that I was. Whether I found this damn book or not, if I survived, I was leaving this city. I wasn't about to stick around and see what Marcus had planned.
He shook his head, and a deep sadness darkened his eyes. "You can't leave, darlin'."
His tone caught me by surprise. "Since when do you think you can tell me what I can or cannot do?" And why was I standing here arguing with him? I needed to figure out a way to get him to leave. To stay away from me. Now. Before he discovered what I was trying to do. What was I doing, trying to repair this male? He wasn't mine to fix.
"Since I realized that you're mine." He must've seen the pure shock on my face as he threw that word back at me. Before I could say anything else, he held up his hands, stopping me. "I want you to know that I didn't plan this. I didn't know it was going to happen. And when it did, I wouldn't admit it. Not even to myself. Not until tonight."
His words finally penetrated my spinning thoughts. "What are you talking about?”
"I should've known the very first time I saw you. I've never smelled anything as good as you. Never wanted to hear someone's laugh like I do yours. Fuck, Esme, I want to crawl under your damn skin and I still don't think I’ll be close enough to you." He paused, searching my face. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner. Before I drank from you?—"
I cut him off. "Wait." I blinked, still not comprehending. "Whatare you talking about?" I repeated.
He glanced around. "Look, it's cold. Do you wanna come back to the house with me? Or we could go to your place, maybe."
