Ruan hissed, his fangs tapping against on his bottom lip. “What are you doing?”
Dylan and Slade exited quietly through the lab doors to the lobby. She’d have to thank them for their discretions later. She had the situation—and Ruan—well under control.
Eve swallowed hard and focused on slowing her pulse. “If you don’t want my blood filling anyone else, then drink from me. Right here. Right now. If you can take that step for me, I’ll match it. I’ll pull back on my donations.”
Tension released from Ruan’s shoulders as they slumped forward. “Eve, please.” He sounded pained. Torn.
She pressed the knife firmly against her open hand. She didn’t plan on slicing through her palm deeply or anything. Just a little nick to draw some blood. Hell, maybe if Ruan got really worked up, he’d let her ditch the knife completely and drink straight from her neck. The thought alone made her slick with want.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he pleaded, trying to coax the knife away from her. “You know how I feel about this. I—I can’t drink from you, Eve.”
“You can.” She held the blade steady, pressing it lightly against her skin. “I can’t walk away now. I’m in too deep.”
Ruan inhaled deeply, wavering a bit on the rough exhale. He licked his lips. Blinked so slowly she thought maybe he was catching the scent of her blood from where he stood, a few feet from her. He really didn’t want to be tempted with her blood. It made her yearn to push harder. To test his limits. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, she knew. But then why was he hesitating? Did he really think he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he tasted her?
She sighed, her resolution stronger than ever. “This is a long time coming, Ruan. It’s time for you to realize that you’re not going to hurt me by taking my vein. I was hoping we could’ve done this gradually over time.”
“Stop.”
“It looks like the time is now.”
“Don’t.”
“You love me. And I love you. Vampires across Crimson Bay drink from loved ones all the time without causing each other pain. Look at Dylan and Slade.”
“I said stop, Eve.” A dark musky smell emitted from his skin. It was possession. Deep rooted need. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” The pained look in his expression had her debating her next words.
But it was too late. There was no turning back. She’d spent an entire month begging him to drink from her. To share one of the most erotic experiences a vampire and mundane could share. Yet he’d denied her. Time and time again. He’d rather drink from an impersonal Alvambra bottle—an unknown blood source shipped from outside Crimson Bay—than drink from her. Now he was asking her to stop donating her blood—the only thing that made her feel like she was finally repaying the debt that had been laid out for her all those years ago.
“Either drink from me now, proving to yourself that you have the strength to do this, or let me fulfill my personal obligation to your race on my terms.” Stifling a gasp, she punctured her skin with the tip of the blade, then lifted the steel to examine it. Her blood, red and thick, hung on the edge. “That’s only fair, given what we both want, don’t you think?”
With a hollow-sounding groan, Ruan snatched her hand and licked her palm, sending chills exploding through her hand and across her chest. He swept her off her feet into his arms, and carried her into the side office, kicking the door shut behind him.
RUAN’S CONTROL WAS hanging on by a thread. Especially now that a few drops of her blood hung on his lips.
Drinking from Eve’s vein should’ve been simple; she was right in that regard. Vampires drank from their loved ones all the time. Not for sustenance, of course, because only human blood sustained their extended life . . . but for the bonding that came with it. The erotic rush. With Eve he could have the best of both worlds.
The pleasure of taking her vein and the fill of his primal need all at the same time.
But Eve didn’t know what she was asking him to do. She didn’t know the desire building inside him at night to drain her dry. Nor did she know the nightmares plaguing him during the day, pushing him on, tempting him to fulfill his darkest desires with her blood and her body.
Not to mention he hadn’t slept in days and he was due for a feeding yesterday.
To make matters worse, if they could even get worse, Eve smelled so damn good. Feminine. Soft. Teasingly refreshing. And he wasn’t picking up the rose hips in her shampoo or the lavender lotion she lathered over her skin. He was picking up hints of her blood.
It was driving him mad. Twisting his stomach into knots. Weakening his will day after day.
Like a line snapped inside him, Ruan kicked his office door shut and set Eve on the floor. His heartbeat thumped in his ears. His skin chilled with fading restraint.
He didn’t waste time gathering the scrolls from his desk and setting them safely aside. No, with one quick swipe of his arm, he sent everything from the scrolls to a canister of pencils to the computer monitor careening to the floor.
Eve stared at him like she’d won their little fight, with a glint in her dual-toned eyes and a smile on her plump lips. She had no idea what she was in for, what the animal inside him wanted to do to her.
Snaking an arm around her tiny waist, he pulled her against his chest and planted a hard, possessive kiss on her mouth. She was about to get all she asked for and then some.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth. He moaned as it twisted along his, tracing lines around his lips, diving deep in his throat.
He needed more. Her kiss wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.
His hands skipped to her jeans, then his. Buttons popped. Zippers dropped. Shirts flew overhead. They shoved their pants to the floor, where they stepped out of them and kicked them aside. As his hand found the warmth of her center, he palmed her, stroking a finger along her core.
“I won’t stop until I get what I want,” she said, smudging kisses along his jaw. “Don’t stop.”
He teased her gently with his fingers, spinning slow circles against her most sensitive skin, although he knew the release she really wanted included a set of puncture marks. Nevertheless, she trembled against his fingertips, her muscles softening with desire.
He hardened, his cock begging for the touch of her hand. He kissed her square on the mouth. Hurried and desperate. She answered his unspoken plea, stroking his aching shaft with long, slow strokes. When he leaned against the desk, his legs suddenly weak, she widened her stance to give him easier access to her center. No matter how deep his fingers sank into her slick heat, or how fast she stroked him, it wasn’t enough.
He needed more. Her kiss, and now her touch, wasn’t enough.
Instinctively he knew how far he wanted this to go. He wanted all of her.
Dropping her head back, letting the skill of his hand take her over, was the last thing Eve should’ve done when he was having trouble reigning in his impulses. A luscious purple vein pulsed strong on her neck, just beneath her skin. Her long golden hair fell over her shoulder and flowed down her back. What a sight to behold . . .
Ruan felt his pupils widen. His fangs dropped low. His throat was dry—so dry. One drink wouldn’t hurt. He could stop before he hurt her again.
And this is what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? She’d told him to drink from her. In fact, she didn’t give him another option, right? All the other bloodlusting bastards in ReVamp got to drink from her whenever they wanted. They signed a paper indicating their feeding preferences and filled up on her blood any time hunger pangs hit them.
Why couldn’t he? He was hungry as hell and she was his. Forever. One drink would prove to her that he could do this . . . and then she’d never share herself with another.
She’d be his. To take. To drink. To kill.
He lowered his head to the curve of her neck, his jaw dropping, his lips quivering in
anticipation.
Wait . . .
His body went still.
To kill?
“Ruan, what is it?” she asked, stroking him, making him gasp. “I want this. Don’t deny me what I want most . . . you can’t. You can’t stop now.”
Ruan sucked in a short breath as his gaze settled on her lips. The corner of Eve’s mouth was smudged red. The blood he’d licked off her palm—her blood—had made its way from his lips to hers. His cock strained so hard that his stomach ached and his balls seized. The trace of blood on Eve’s mouth was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen.
Something inside him cracked like a twig. Fuck restraint.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He crushed his mouth to hers, licking the remnants of blood from the corners, sucking her plush bottom lip between his teeth. “But I’ll give it to you. Everything you want and more.”
A smile crept across Eve’s lips as she pushed Ruan backwards until he was leaning on the edge of the desk. She turned around, back facing him, the vein on her neck fluttering strong. Ruan swept her golden veil of hair over her left shoulder so her right was bare. So he had an unobstructed view of the most luscious vein he’d ever seen, pulsing beneath her silky skin.
She maneuvered one leg on either side of his as he kneaded her hips with greedy hands.
“What are you doing?” he asked, out of breath and light-headed. The room spun in dizzying circles. His gaze traveled down her back from the hourglass of her waist to the curve of her bare hips.
“Giving you what you need,” she said softly over her shoulder; a strand of honey-gold hair drooped over her eyes. “Take from me.” She rose up on tiptoe, bent over slightly, and backed herself against him until the thick head of his shaft met the slippery entrance of her core.
Oh God.
She sank down over him until he was deep inside her. She leaned back. Tilted her neck.
The animal inside him roared. With each pulse of her muscles clenching around him, he came closer to climax. But with each little movement of her hips, she leaned further back, offering her neck to drink. She was flush against him now. From hips to chest. His mouth to her neck. The scent of her blood was so strong from here. It would be so easy. One taste . . .
Her hips rolled faster, up and down his cock. He groaned, pressing two firm hands on her sides to control her rhythm. She was so wet. Drowning. And so was he.
Was this enough? Was this what he needed all along? Maybe he wouldn’t need to feed from her . . . he could taste her without getting carried away.
Eve leaned back against him until he was supporting all her weight. Her head lolled on his shoulder, her hair falling over his chest in a wave of blonde.
His gaze traveled down her body to her arching breasts. He cupped them with rough hands, pulling her pink nipples taut. As his fangs grazed along the arch of her shoulder, he reached down the flat of her stomach to her hips, to tease her heat again.
“Drink from me, Ruan,” she whimpered. The rhythm of her hips sped. Her heart raced. “Drink from me as I come.”
Ruan froze as his mouth set upon her neck in a hot, smothering kiss.
“Oh, Ruan . . .” She rode him harder. Faster. Until he felt his muscles clamp like a vice. As her body softened, riding the waves of orgasm as it rippled through her, Ruan’s body seized.
An instant before his own climax hit, a breath before he let himself shatter inside her, he bit down hard on her neck, letting his fangs sink deep.
She whimpered again, wrapping an arm around his head to keep him drinking.
Her blood slid down his throat, heavy and intoxicating. A rush of warm heaven. He pinched his eyes closed, dug his fangs deeper, and sucked harder. He’d take all of her this way. She’d be his. Completely. Blood, body, and soul.
He let his eyes roll back as he bit hard, sparks of ecstasy rising to a peak. Her shoulders tensed beneath him, fueling his hunger. Possessive instinct exploded like lightning rods through his body. He hissed and thrashed his fangs into her skin as he held her firmly against him.
God, she was so deliciously sweet. His for the taking. He’d drink every last ounce of her blood so she couldn’t donate it to another. He’d take her in, as she was taking him.
He’d never stop.
With a shallow hiss, Ruan lifted her off him.
She jumped back, rubbing her neck where his lips had been, shock coating her expression. “What’s wrong? You didn’t hurt me.” Her gaze shot to his straining erection. “You didn’t finish . . .”
He dropped to all fours. His uncontrollable desire to drink her dry should’ve been enough to disgust him completely. The thought of living without her should’ve been like a cold shower.
But his body wasn’t listening. It still raced toward climax. Muscles taut. Ready to burst. How could he get off on knowing what the beast inside him wanted to do to her?
When Eve knelt beside him, putting an arm over his shoulder, his senses were assailed by the erotic combination of her blood and her pleasure. “Ruan . . .”
He put a hand up to keep her away. She needed to stay far, far away.
He was shaken. Disturbed. Turned on not only by the smell of her blood, but by the sight of it smudged onto her lips. Damn it, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of.
Like a thunderbolt of bloodlust striking his body, Ruan lost control. Picturing Eve in his mind’s eye, her body sucking hungrily on his cock, his fangs anchored dangerously in her neck, Ruan grabbed a hold of his burning shaft. Stroked hard, violent strokes. As his climax hit, he roared, releasing himself onto his pants that lay crumpled on the floor.
Chapter Thirteen
“Paintings are much like mundanes—jaw-droppingly beautiful, but better when admired from afar.”
Van Goslin, sixteenth-century artist
“DON’T TOUCH ME.” Ruan stood in a flash, covering himself with the jeans he’d scraped off the floor. He stormed to the corner and faced it, refusing to look at Eve. He stuck his arm out behind him. “Toss me my shirt, would you? Please.”
There was no reason for him to be rude. Or embarrassed. Covering her own breasts, though she wasn’t sure the reason for her sudden shyness, Eve picked up his shirt and walked to his side, placing it in his open hand. “You didn’t hurt me, Ruan. If you’d just loosen up and let yourself go, you might—”
“I’ve heard enough.” He shuffled the black shirt down his sculpted torso, all the while guarding his hips with a wide pant leg.
“Any chance you’re going to talk about what happened?”
“Nope.”
She’d figured he would shut down. She only hoped he wouldn’t do it so quickly.
A surge of warmth spread through her body, down her fingers, up the base of her neck, and through the tips of her toes. Shivering from its pulsing waves, she dabbed a finger to her neck, to where her pulse beat strong. The puncture marks along her jugular were a little raised and a little swollen. Probably more than a little red, but they hummed like bees in spring. Like a lover’s first kiss. Lingering and warm and perfect.
She caught Ruan glaring at her over his shoulder. How could he look at the marks on her neck and not think they’re absolutely beautiful?
“Would you do me a favor and ask Slade if he’s got an extra pair of pants in his loft that I can borrow?”
Without dignifying his attitude with a response, Eve walked to an oversized cabinet lining the back wall and swung open its side door. Rows of black shirts and jeans—Slade-size muscular—hung from two thick bars stretching from side to side. She grabbed a pair of dark-wash jeans off a wooden hanger and tossed them at him.
They hit Ruan in the back and fell to the floor at his feet. “Well, thanks.” He shoved his legs into the pants. They weren’t a perfect fit, but Ruan could look like GQ Paranormal Magazine material in a garbage bag.
Eve dress
ed in a hurry. She needed to get out of there. The room was stifling. The air, hot and stagnant, clung to the back of her throat. The warmth humming through her body was getting stronger by the second and she figured it had everything to do with the anger flowing off Ruan in heated waves. “When you’re not so angry and want to talk about tonight, let me know. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” He zipped up. “Now?”
She didn’t count on meeting him here tonight. She had things on her to-do list that couldn’t be shoved aside, starting with figuring out who’d sent her mother’s necklace, how they’d gotten their hands on it, and why they’d sent it to her now. Not to mention, she still had to figure out what was going on with the amulet and why she couldn’t take the darn thing off.
Eve opened the office door, ready to leave him standing in a sinking pit of his own negativity, when he gripped her around the waist and spun her around. Her hands fell into place on his shoulders. There was a hardness to his jaw, his shoulders, his chest. His eyes, though . . . they showed the tender soul beneath his hardened exterior.
What was going on with him? Why wouldn’t he let her in? They could work on whatever problems he was having together.
“How’d you know where to find these clothes?” His voice was low and soft. A gravelly song called Apology—music to her ears. “You’ve been coming to ReVamp a lot longer than I gave you credit for, haven’t you?”
She nodded. “Awhile.” She was about to pile a heaping serving of honesty on his shoulders. “Long enough to know where Dylan and Slade keep their extra supplies, no matter what that might be. Years.”
“Years?” Eyebrows hitching, he raked his fingers through his hair. A curtain of blonde fell over his left eye. “How long is it going to take before you feel like you’ve done enough?”
When she stared at him, crossing her arms, he brushed her shoulders. “I mean, you’ve been donating so long . . . when is the debt going to be paid?”
“I don’t know if it ever will.”
Sighing, Ruan eyed her neck, then trailed his fingers over her skin where his fangs had pulled at her. “I can’t bear to hurt you like this.”
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