Page 84 of Taste Me

He doesn’t realize how rare and incredible all of this is. Each effort to form the foreign words with my tongue exhausts me. I’m fluent in many languages, but I never had to speak the words aloud.

It was too dangerous. I trained myself to be a mute and talking so much is starting to make my throat hurt. I need more practice.

With Zy, I’m up for the challenge.

“We don’t know if you’d be safe from me,” he says, his touch trailing up my arm until his hand is caressing my face.

A whole new set of nerves comes alive at the sensation. My heart skips a beat and surely Zyran must hear it.

“Fate would not be so cruel,” I decide aloud. “Let me see your eyes, Zyran. This isn’t negotiable.”

He grins, the gesture showing his fangs.

The thrill of the danger he offers only excites me more.

Spirits. What’s wrong with me?

He might not comment on the changes in my heart rate, but he seems to be cataloging my reactions. His touch glides lower across my collarbone, then along my throat.

Just like with Jasper, my heart practically stops when he gently dents his fingers into my skin.

“You fascinate me, little witch. You’re my equal, or my better, perhaps. Your power is incredible. I can feel it with every vibration of your voice—yet, your preference is for me to take your control away.”

Is that my kink? I know that Zy’s experienced, but he seems to enjoy figuring me out.

It almost doesn’t seem fair, given that I haven’t had a chance to discover my tastes on my own.

“I’ve been controlled all my life,” I practically snarl, insulted by the idea that I am so damaged that my trauma would turn into a desire. “That’s not what I want.”

He hums as he leans in closer, not kissing me, but I can feel his closeness all the same. “It’s not that you wish to be controlled… no. There’s something else.” He moves in and glides his nose across the column of my throat, then deftly licks my throbbing vein. “You want it hard. You want sensation. You want to feelalive.”

My eyes widen when I realize he’s spoken the truth.

My truth.

It’s why I respond to blood—specifically my blood. It’s why pain excites me and why everything he says is true.

It all reminds me I’m alive.

“Yes,” I decide aloud. “That’s exactly what I want.”

He faces me again and I desperately want to rip off his glasses so I can see the lust in his eyes. Surely I’m not imagining the tension ready to snap between us.

Mine,my heart tells me.

I will take what is mine.

When he moves to stop me again, I strengthen my voice.

“No.”

The word has enough power in it to make him stagger. He’s momentarily stunned as I slip off his glasses.

He’s squeezed his eyes shut, but I can already see that he’s beautiful.

“Open them,” I command. The air shimmers with magic and it’s the first time I’ve ever manipulated the power in my voice. Perhaps knowing that a collar could silence me makes me appreciate it even more.

Efforts to block out my power were always ineffective, but I never tried to make it stronger.

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