Experimenting, Micah looked at me and pushed a little bit more firmly on what appeared to be dead skin. He met my eyes and my lack of response confirmed I felt nothing. Not usually a good sign.
“Nothing?” he asked, pressing closer to the hole.
I tucked my lip between my teeth, determined not to cry out. “Okay. That I felt.” I balled my hand into a fist.
“You know this is going to hurt, right?” Micah asked.
He reached to the side, his arm long enough to open the cabinet and fetch the salt without actually having to break contact with me.
“You’re not man enough to do it?” I asked. “Do I need your little brother in here to get the job done?”
Micah’s laugh reverberated off the walls, drawing a smile across my face. Only Micah could look this handsome right after he’d been white as a sheet and laid up in bed, ready to die, a mere hour ago.
The dark tufts of his hair were softly skewed from a cowlick I’d never noticed before. At some point he must have dragged a hand through those strands, because there was a streak of my blood on his forehead.
When he looked at me, his eyes sparkled from the challenge. I couldn’t help how my heart beat just a little faster when he winked at me.
“That’s a low blow, Ella.”
Bending down, Micah nuzzled the side of my face. When he got to my neck, his tongue just barely snaked out to lap at the bite, his bite, that hadn’t healed on my neck. The only things my vampiric powers hadn’t healed were his bites. Mates. I shivered. A needy moan escaped my lips, encouraging him.
Light as a feather, Micah ran his hand up my side. He cupped the back of my neck. Gently, he pulled me forward and tilted my head to the side as if to kiss me. Good god, what was he doing to me? At the last moment, when my eyes closed and my lips parted, he guided my-all-too pliable body toward the floor until I was lying on my back.
He gently straddled my hips and pinned me to the shaggy brown rug.
“I’m plenty man enough, haven’t I proven that already?” he whispered.
“You’re a bastard,” I groaned.
I kept my eyes closed so he wouldn’t see how much I wanted him. His heart was beating as fast as mine. Each pounding thud made me think wicked thoughts. Rich, salty—I needed the warmth of his blood spilling into my mouth almost as badly as I needed him inside me. I wasn’t normal.
What had the succubus done to us?
I knew what I needed, but I was too afraid to admit it. I wanted blood, not just to replace what I’d lost, but also to fill a deeper need.
“Ella, look at me,” Micah said, adjusting his weight so I could move more easily.
“No.”
“Come on, don’t be stubborn,” he coaxed. When I opened my lids and looked directly into his eyes, I knew Micah saw the hunger I was trying so desperately to ignore. Had my eyes gone red?
“You need blood, don’t you?” he asked.
I struggled to push him off me and sit up. He lowered his full weight on top of my hips. In a fair fight, I might have won.
“I’ll pass.”
“You’ll heal faster.”
I glared up at him. I was angrier with myself than with Micah. He was too handy a target.
“Just because I asked for your help, don’t start thinking you know what I need. Get off me, I’m going home.”
“You can’t even move your arm! Look, Eli told me that new demon portals keep popping up all over town and Roy thinks it’s because of us. I know you’ll heal faster if you drink. So drink from me.”
I shook my head and tried not to think about how rich and delicious Micah’s blood had looked sparkling on the witch’s finger. My stomach growled. Maybe it was the darkness inside talking to me again.
“No way. Just clean my wound and let’s get this over with.”
“You haven’t won this argument.” Micah glared at me for a second before he pointed to my shoulder. “The demon left behind a keepsake. I’ve got to get it out before I salt it.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
He picked up a pair of tweezers from the first-aid kit and stared at them. And stared at them for a little longer. What was his problem? I’d never seen him so squeamish.
“Why are you being such a wuss?” I asked.
His brow wrinkled. “Do you think I want to torture you? This is going hurt a whole fucking lot.”
“Oh my god, Micah, stop being such a girl. If you don’t do it, I will,” I snapped and reached for the tweezers.
Just out of my reach, Micah jerked his arm back before he pressed hard on my right shoulder and brought me back to the floor.
He bent over me, and the soft strands of his hair tickled my nose. I took one deep lungful of air, steadying myself. The first caress of his hot breath touched the wound. I distracted myself by savoring the fragrant scent of his shampoo. That was the last pleasant thing I felt before he went fishing.
White, searing-hot agony blazed through the deepest parts of me. The tears came automatically and it was all I could do not to scream out before I stuck my fist in my mouth to muffle my cries. The few seconds it took Micah to grasp and remove what looked like the end of a claw was an eternity in hell.
“Gotcha!” Triumphantly, Micah held the piece up.
His grin faltered when I pushed him off with a burst of strength and rolled onto my side. Knees jerking up to my chest, I assumed the fetal position. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. In another attempt not to scream, I slapped my open palm against the cold, tiled floor.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six…
I hoped to hell by the time I got to one, the pain would fade back into something manageable. My new position, however, exposed the cuts on my back I’d forgotten about.
“Damn it, why didn’t you tell me there were more?”
“It didn’t hurt. How bad does it look?”
“It didn’t hurt,” he mocked. “There’s a gash that crosses from the top of your shoulder blade to the middle of your back.”
“Let me see.”
Morbid curiosity was a curse.
I heard the cabinet under the sink open, then close before Micah came back with a hand-held mirror. Ouch. The wound wasn’t as bad as my shoulder, but indigo lines had spread through the network of veins under my skin. My flesh no longer looked human. Blood leaked from the gash, which had started to heal. Very nice. I must have reopened it when I’d gone into a little ball.
“Finish it, Micah, or I will.” I had to fight to keep my body still.
Saying nothing, Micah removed my bra and went about the task of pouring in the salt. Purify, rinse, clean. It was a painful ritual I’d used over a dozen times in the last ten years. I blacked out before he got to my shoulder.
When I came to, Micah’s face was pale and the green tint to his cheeks made me think he was about to be sick.
Speaking of being sick… I crawled over to the toilet and spent the next several minutes proving just how upset my stomach was. When it was over, I flushed and gladly took the towel Micah handed me. I wiped my mouth. My entire body hurt, including my head. I sank back and the bathroom was tiny enough that my back was now against the shower door.
I winced at the stinging pain and sat up a little bit. Micah gave me a concerned look.
“You don’t look so hot.”
“No shit? How should I look after being tortured and puking my guts out?”
He shook his head. “I mean, you’re pale, really pale. I know you don’t want to, but maybe we should call Roy.”
I glared at him. Then I noticed his gaze dip to my breasts. I was topless. I brought my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. The move stretched muscles that screamed in protest.
“You need blood.” Great, there he went again.
At the mention of blood, my stomach rumbled and the familiar sting in my gums came to life. I willed it away. I dug my nails into my pants until I felt I had enough control over the bloodlust.
“I’ll be fine. I think I need f
ood, real food.”
“You’re hurt, you need blood to heal. I’m worried about the poison.”
“For someone who wanted me out of your apartment the second I walked in here, I’m touched by your concern, really,” I said dryly.
“Look, don’t get bitchy. I’m just as exhausted as you are, in case you forgot. I haven’t been able to sleep in almost a week. And if you think I just enjoyed the last hour, well, I didn’t.”
All right, now I felt bitchy. I’d forgotten how bad Micah had looked when I’d walked in here. Roy had called me for a reason and Micah had ended up being the one to help me.
“Look, I’m not drinking blood. I’m back on the wagon.”
“Yeah.” Micah looked away. “About that…”
“What?”
“No one wants to tell you because they’re afraid of how you’ll react. When we brought you home from the hotel room, Roy had to give you his blood to heal you.”
“No, he didn’t. Roy wouldn’t do that.” My stomach clenched. I looked into Micah’s unwavering gaze and read the truth. “Why would he do that?”
“There was some concern about the damage to your eyes, something about you waking up blind or some shit. Hannah called Julian.”
Micah spat his name as if it tasted vile on his tongue. I didn’t blame him.
I got to my feet, wobbled a bit. Micah tried to steady me but I slapped his hand away. Despite the show of bravado, I leaned against the shower.
“Back up. Hannah, my sister, called Julian for what…advice?” I ended up yelling the last bit louder than I’d intended. God, this bathroom was small. I was starting to feel claustrophobic. “I mean, how did she call him? According to Roy, he’s been in jail or whatever.” Is that how Roy knew Julian had been imprisoned? Straight from the horse’s mouth so to speak?
Micah did back up, put his hands in the air. “Julian originally got into contact with Roy the night we went missing. Don’t blame Hannah. Do you remember what we looked like before your eyes caught fire? You didn’t see yourself with the blood and other stuff dripping down your face. It freaked us all out. Roy did what he thought was best and that included contacting the bastard. Apparently, Julian was more than happy to come to your rescue.” Micah let out a bitter laugh. “Seems the asshole still carries a bit of a torch and hopes to pick up where you two left off.”
Why had no one mentioned this to me? I was too keyed up to care about my nudity. I began pacing back and forth. “So that was Julian’s solution, feed me more blood. No wonder he won’t leave me alone.”
Micah turned away from me and began shuffling around in the cabinet. He pulled out a new toothbrush and thrust it at me when I made my pass in front of him. I stopped, looked at it for a second. Right. I looked like shit and I smelled. Fabulous.
“He knew,” I started mumbling as I snatched the toothbrush and turned on the tap at the sink. Between rapid, jerky brushes, I spoke through a mouthful of minty toothpaste. “The bastard knew what drinking blood would do to me, how it would change me.” I pointed to my eyes.
I leaned over the sink and ignored how much the move hurt. I spit out a mouthful of foam. I stayed there, staring at the water pouring from the faucet and thought about when Julian had attacked my mind in the shower. The ripping, tearing pain. It was a good reminder of how I’d felt after he left me with no explanation. Two years we’d been together and then nothing. At the time, his disappearance coupled with the new fangs was more than my eighteen-year-old self could handle.
Micah stepped up behind me and I felt the heat of his body to the tips of my toes. Thoughts of Julian vanished. Micah’s chest pressed against my back when he leaned closer to shut off the water. Even through the cotton of his shirt, he was molten against me.
He’s a demon. The witch’s words echoed in my head.
I looked up and met his gaze in the mirror.
Vampire Queen. Demon Son.
“The way you’ve changed doesn’t matter,” he said.
“Look at me,” I demanded. My eyes were so bright, so blue and so unnatural.
“I’m looking.” His voice softened. “And if it’s possible, you look even more beautiful than before.”
The shell around my heart cracked, just a little. “Ha! Liar, you just told me I looked horrible.” I turned, realizing too late what position my movement would put our bodies into.
My lower back cut into the counter, and my breasts, now sensitive and full, pressed against Micah’s chest. My breath caught. God, he had a way of looking at me. The look said he wanted to devour me.
“You need blood. I’ll give it to you. Isn’t that what mates do? Provide for each other?”
“Oh, so we’re mates now? I don’t think so. We’re getting a divorce, or whatever, as soon as we can manage it. Tattoo removal has come a long way these days. I’m not drinking from you.”
“Why? Is it because the witch said I was a demon? I’m not good enough anymore? Or maybe it’s because Julian is back in the picture and you’d rather be with him?”
Before he could mask it, I saw the fear fueling his abrupt shift into anger.
I pressed my hand against Micah’s arm, held on to the muscle before he could pull away.
“I don’t want Julian. And Gem is crazy. You’re not a demon, Micah. You’ve got a family, a father, a brother. You know where you come from. Things might be…off, but how can you possibly be a demon? Richard would have known.”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Look, I’m afraid. You, us, it scares me. If I drink from you, I don’t know if I can stop. I don’t know if I’ll want to stop. I crave it, Micah, your blood. I can hear it pumping in your veins and all I want to do is… I can still taste you on my tongue.”
He grinned. “I can taste you on my tongue too, but it isn’t your blood I’m talking about.”
Here was the finesse I’d expected from him. He undid the buttons on my cargo pants. The pants were loose and heavy enough to slide down my thighs, so I was standing in nothing but a pair of black bikini panties.
“You drive me insane,” he said against my ear.
He brushed his lips along my throat. I shivered.
“I thought you said you were joking about the sex.”
“Does it feel like I’m joking?” He ground his pelvis against mine to show me exactly how thick and hard his cock was.
“This is a horrible idea.”
He cupped my ass and held me tighter. He continued talking in low, husky tones. “I just want to make you feel good. I’ve never seen you cry, I don’t like it. I need something to erase that.”
I bit my lip. Nodded. God, I was easy.
He pulled me with him to the shower. The glass door made a pathetic squeak when Micah pulled it open. His mouth met mine and I pushed at his shirt. He broke the kiss and, one handed, pulled off his tee. I pushed off his pajama bottoms and reached for the thick ridge of his shaft. He ripped off my panties at the same time.
He turned on the water and the hot temperature stung my newly tended wounds. I tried to pull away, but Micah deepened the kiss. He moved his fingers over my body in slow caresses, as if he was memorizing every curve and apologizing for the hurts he’d caused. I shivered as he traced his palm gingerly up my spine to grasp the back of my neck. He guided my mouth to his throat.
“Bite.”
My fangs slid free in the same moment he found my wet entrance and slid his fingers inside. A deep, husky pant came from Micah when I found him and began to stroke.
“Jesus Ella, you’re so wet.” He moaned in bliss.
He inserted another finger knuckle deep before he curved them to hit my G-spot. Roughly, he pumped inside me, finding the rhythm that made me clench in the first drawing spasms of an orgasm.
I sank my fangs into his neck. A hot gush of blood filled my mouth. The pleasure exploded. Micah jerked, but instead of pulling me away, he held me closer, stroked me faster. I didn’t need any encouragement. I wrapped my legs around his
waist, and with a fist around his erection, I guided the thick crown of his cock to me. Back and forth I rubbed the mushroom tip against my opening, teasing us both.
I lifted my mouth from his neck and Micah wasted no time in covering my lips with his, thrusting his tongue deep. He entered me in one smooth, powerful push. My body clenched, pulled him deeper inside. Pleasure. He pounded into me. As the tension built, so did the energy in the air. I came, screaming my release. Everything around us combusted. The two remaining light bulbs in the room shattered. Glass tinkled against the porcelain sink and I couldn’t have cared less.
In the total darkness he pulled me from the wall, sank down and kept me in his lap so I could ride him. I moved on his cock, up and down. My back bowed and Micah’s mouth wrapped around my nipple. He sucked and nibbled, lifted his hips underneath me.
“You feel too good. I’m gonna come,” he said between gasps. “Should I pull out?”
God no. “Not pregnant. Back on the pill, it’s okay.”
“Thank god.”
His thrusts grew harder, more erratic. When his teeth found their way over my chest and to my neck, the sensation of his cock and the heat of his mouth on me coalesced. I thought I was going to pass out from the pleasure of it all. He bit down on the tender skin of my throat and he came inside me. He grunted, groaned and all I could do was hold on for the ride.
Minutes passed before we spoke.
“I should let you bite me more often.” He nuzzled my neck.
I stiffened. What had I done? “We can’t do that again.”
“The sex or the biting?”
I got off his lap and wished for a larger space. There was nowhere to go. The scent of sex and blood overwhelmed me. How could I have just let that happen? And this time, I had no lust spell to blame it on.
“Neither.”
Chapter Eight
Micah exited the bathroom in a trail of dripping water before closing the door behind him with a bit too much emphasis. The dark shadows I’d seen in his eyes told me I’d screwed something up between us. I was pretty sure I’d done the river dance on any warm and fuzzies he felt.
Dark Cravings Page 11