Bite Me (Blood Chord Book 2)

by Alex Owens

  He brushed a strand of hair out of my face and lowered his voice. “I could last another day, maybe two... but you, I fear, do not have nearly as long. At some point—maybe in five minutes or two hours, who knows—the desire to feed will overcome you. At that point, you will leave me with few choices. I don’t want to hurt you, but you will leave me no choice.”

  “Well,” I paused to grip my abdomen and waited for the pain to subside. “Let’s do it. Tell me what to do... before it’s too late.”

  It’s what I left unsaid that hung in the air.

  Sure, I didn’t want to flip my lid and go all raging-bitch-vamp on Clive, not this time. And I’d rather not have to fight for my life with a serious case of jelly-legs. Ending up as Clive’s snack was not an option either. I’d pretty much do anything he told me to at that point. Anything.

  “Okay, you need to let your shields down a bit. Then install...” he started.

  “Install? I’m not a computer.”

  “Sorry, right. Well then what do you do in there? Picture something and it appears?”

  I nodded, “something like that.”

  “So picture a net, or a box—anything that you can use to contain a powerful feeling. The idea is you use my feelings, let them in, and put them in that box. Then you can let it out a little at a time to sustain you. Think of it like recharging your batteries with your own portable generator.”

  “Mmm, okay. What exactly am I going to be harnessing?

  “Any strong emotion—rage, anger, fear, love ...” he paused and averted his eyes. “...and lust.”

  I took a minute to let that sink in. “So, does that mean we’re going to fight until I get you mad enough to eat me, then try to avoid getting actually eaten by you while I suck your jou-jou?”

  My inner twelve-year old sniggered at the last bit.

  “I think there are far less dangerous ways to do what needs to be done, but you can suck my jou-jou if you’d like.”

  I gave him a that’s-not-funny look.

  “Sorry, moving on. Drop your barriers and get ready.” His voice dropped an octave and it shot tingles up my spine.

  I popped a few bricks out of my protection shield, dropped in the prettiest cobalt blue bottle with a cork stopper and sat a little straighter. His face drew nearer to my own, his lips parting slightly.

  Oh, god. He was going to kiss me. Right then.

  “Wait!” My heart thudded once in my chest. “Forgot to uncork the brain-bottle.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite.” Clive helped me out of my jacket and dropped it to the floor once my arms were free. He trailed his fingers over my bare collar bone, leaned forward to plant a kiss on my neck. “At least not in the beginning.”

  Clive nuzzled my neck and I closed my eyes.

  I didn’t know if I could do it; sleep with Clive for a chance at a cure to bloodlust. I mean, it felt cheap and wrong. And I’d be using him—not that he’d mind at all. Still, I’d never had sex with anyone based on something other than desire or love. I didn’t love Clive. Hell, most of the time I didn’t even like him, but I needed to get us out of this situation.

  I would not fake it; I would not go through with it at all if my own libido didn’t get on board. I’d fight him before I spread my legs like a common whore looking to get a payday. So it was down to this: fuck or fight.

  Which one would it be?

  Clive’s hand moved to my hip and pull me a little closer to his core. Realigned, I could feel his hard lump squarely under my ass as it grew and grew. He touched my knee lightly, drawing little circles through the fabric. His other hand slipped under my shirt and pressed against the small of my back. The skin-on-skin contact sent little zaps firing over my body.

  “What are you feeling from me right now?” Clive whispered into my ear.

  I paused to consider the question. From Clive, I felt... tenderness, with an underlying current of desire. My own abdomen tensed in response.

  His fingers grazed the sensitive skin on my back, around to my sides and finally to the outer-swell of my breast. My skin grew warm and tingly.

  “I feel,” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “I feel safe.”

  Not the obvious answer. I could have said anything, but that’s what slipped off my tongue. Clive nodded and squeezed my thigh with his other hand. Pushing up further between the apex of my legs, his hand stopped somewhere between almost-there and oh-hell.

  He kissed my shoulder, my neck, nipped at my ear. It tickled and I instinctively turned by face toward his, avoiding the feathering kisses on my ear. His lips were right there, inches from my own.

  I could easily kiss him. He wanted me to, I could feel it. And more than that, I wanted to.

  My brain tried to rally a logical protest, but I shut that shit down hard.

  Gingerly, I leaned in, letting my lips graze his. I pulled back just a fraction and felt his hot breath mingle with my own. His lips were soft, but firm. It was nice, something I never thought I’d say.

  I kissed him again, reveling in the red spark that glowed between us briefly upon contact. My lips parted, holding his bottom lip between them.

  What was I doing?

  I sprang to my feet and put some distance between us. My legs felt like cooked spaghetti noodles, but I soldiered on. I paced away, conflicted.

  I was woman enough to admit it: I wanted Clive, and bad.

  Clive, really? I never, in a million years, would I have predicted that. Now one question remained; did I have big enough balls to go through with it?

  Of course I did. Florida had taught me that. And that gave me an idea.

  I focused on the blood connection we had, the cord stretched between us at all times. It hummed like a plucked guitar string. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I’m doing this because I want it, not because you’ve seduced me into it, or because I’m starving. I’m not a blood whore.”

  “Doing what?” his eyes sparkled with amusement.

  Instead of answering right away, I undressed quickly. He watched while my jacket, tank top and pants hit the floor. I stopped when I stood only in my bra and panties. I was nervous sure, but teasing him was a way to work up my nerve. As a bonus, it appeared to be driving him mad.

  “Doing this.” I unhooked my bra and tossed it in his direction. It flew several feet above his head. Thankfully, I had better aim with my panties. Those he caught in his fist and—my god— he pulled them to his face and inhaled deeply. It was the most primal thing I’d ever seen. I waited for him to say something, do something, before I decided how I felt about it.

  “Intoxicating,” he growled with a predatory grin.

  That was a relief. No embarrassment necessary. Instead I went with my initial reaction—hot at fuck. Liquid heat pooled in pelvis and my heart thumped a couple of times.

  Clive stood and undid the buttons on his shirt. He removed it and unfastened his belt. The clang of the metal buckle did something to my resolve and I melted just a little. He opened his fly, pushed the pants past his hips and let them drop to the floor. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  He stood there, naked in all his glory. And boy, glory never looked so good. Strong upper body, narrower at the waist... and muscular thighs—something a gal could hold on to. And that package... let’s just say that was one delivery I was looking forward to receiving.

  I tugged at the connection between us, pulling Clive to me, and me to him. Our bodies met with enough electricity to power the Hoover Dam. Spontaneous combustion, and all that.

  I’m pretty sure I spied multiple blue sparks flying from our bodies, right before I let my eyes drift shut. He kissed me again, tentatively. Tenderly. I wasn’t expecting that.

  I crushed my lips to his. There was nothing tender in the way that he responded.

  He lifted me off of my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist, savoring the fact that his erection was pressed between our bodies. I squirmed against him and he growled, deep a
nd low. The friction set my body on fire, lapping at my very core.

  We slammed against the wall with enough force to shake the foundation, our mouths a tangled mass of lips and tongue. He breathed out and I sucked in his bottom lip, nipping it slightly. The tang of his blood danced over my tongue.

  “None of that for you,” he grunted. “Don’t forget to do what needs to be done.”

  I sighed, realizing I’d almost forgotten what was really going on.

  “None of that now,” He ran his tongue up the side of my neck. “Here, let me distract you.”

  Clive pulled back from me slightly, released his hold on me with one hand and used it to position himself at my entrance. He nudged it in a fraction of an inch, and then another. My hips twitched of their own accord.

  Without warning, he slammed into me. Impaled by his cock, I cried out and grabbed a handful of wall. Bits of concrete busted loose in my hand, but I didn’t care. At that moment, the whole house could have crumbled down around us and it wouldn’t matter one bit.

  It was wild, it was feral. And it was fabulous.

  He pumped into me with a delicious rhythm that had my hips rolling, my hands roving all over his body, and a low keening sound coming from my mouth. It was almost too much.

  The passion coming from him was intense, almost blinding to my inner eye. It flowed from him, to me in a flickering ribbon of color. I felt awake, alive and overflowing with need.

  I pushed us away from the wall. “Couch,” I muttered.

  He obliged and walked us backwards, keeping himself firmly planted within me. When we reached the couch he sat and I pushed him backwards until he lay flat. I leaned over his body, my hair cascading around our face and kissed him hard and long. I rocked my hips until I felt the delicious drag of his engorged cock against my softer bits.

  He groaned into my parted mouth.

  Pulling back, I arched my back and pumped him harder. My breasts bounced in symphony with the dance of our bodies. I held them close to my body with one arm to stop their motion. Busty girl problems don’t go away no matter what, it seemed.

  “So beautiful,” Clive murmured and pulled my arm away, “I want to watch you completely. You don’t need to hide anything. Not from me.”

  Before I could process the depth of that comment, Clive threw me off the trail.

  With his hands on my hips, he pushed further into me, setting off tiny quakes throughout my body. His hands roamed over my skin; the curve of my ribs, the swell of my breasts, the nape of my neck. It was like he wanted to touch every part of me and couldn’t settle on just one.

  He sat and flipped us over, making the couch glide several feet across the floor. Leaning on one elbow, he pulled one of my legs up over his other arm, opening me wide. He looked down at the place where our bodies connected. I followed his gaze and watched his slick cock disappear again and again inside of my folds.

  I moaned and retreated inside of my own head. The bottle was full now, so I replaced the stopper and watched as the extra emotions swirled around in my own mind. Semi-transparent clouds of white and red drifted around the outer edge, swirling like a lazy tornado. It was a beautiful site.

  I felt the prick of pain on my neck and opened my eyes. Clive looked at me and smiled, the sheen of my blood coating his lips. I felt myself tighten around him. Just a little at first, then a bit more until the heat and longing pooled into molten desire and I almost couldn’t bear it.

  “More, please.” I begged.

  Clive answered my call with renewed vigor and before long that old couch was groaning right along with us. We were loud, but not loud enough to cover the giant cracking noise that echoed around the room as the couch broke and landed us in the floor.

  The cold tile floor pressed against my back and my nipples hardened further. Clive noticed and sucked each one in his mouth, flicking the pebbled buds with his tongue. When he pulled away, my own blood was smeared over each breast. I don’t know why, but that was a serious turn-on. As he kissed down the midline of my stomach, he left more little prints there too. It was like he was following a treasure map.

  And X, that definitely marked the spot.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I stood naked in my dirty basement, trying to figure out the best way to retrieve my clothes and cover myself without giving up how awkward and conflicted I felt. On one hand, I felt better than I ever had in my life. Power coursed through me, every cell in my body buzzed like I was made up of a million bees. But I was at my most vulnerable and up until a few days ago, I had considered Clive my mortal enemy.

  The reversal of roles was enough to give a gal whiplash. I won’t even start on how much I’d enjoyed our little “feeding” session or what that might mean going forward.

  Clive, however, seemed perfectly comfortable in the buff. He stood and bent to grab his pants. I watched him slip them over one foot and then the other, only pausing to glance at his wristwatch.

  “Why do you keep looking at the time? Are you expecting someone?” I joked, attempting to make light of our current situation.

  I almost didn’t catch the flicker of unease as it crossed Clive’s face, it was so fast. But I did see it and I damn well couldn’t leave it alone. There I went, poking the tiger again.

  Before he could even register the change in me, I was on him, my hand around his throat, holding him against the wall with his feet a good six inches off the ground. He didn’t even have time to pull up his pants, for cripes sake. Not that it mattered; I was still completely nude.

  “While I... appreciate a girl with... a short fuse...” he grunted out, “I cannot explain...very well... like this.”

  I considered letting him down for the sake of getting my explanation, but before I released my iron grip, I surveyed the junk in a nearby pile. Spying what I had been looking for, I released Clive and grabbed the nearby wooden chair before he’d even hit the ground. I snapped off one of its legs and spun on Clive, crouching slightly in case I needed to drive my makeshift stake through his withered, twisted heart.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am expecting someone. Crystal should be here in the next hour or so... to let us out of this dreary place.” Clive pulled up his pants, threw on his shirt and buttoned it, then tucked it neatly into his pants. Those he zipped fastened and buckled his belt—all without taking his eyes off me.

  I gripped the stake in my hand a little bit tighter, just in case my common sense faltered and I dropped it before I was ready to. I wasn’t picking up what he was laying down.

  Why would that bitch be coming to let us out, when she was the one who locked us down here to kill each other to begin with? The dots were there, they just weren’t connecting.

  Until suddenly everything lined up in a perfect line... and my head just about exploded all over the shitty basement floor.

  “What the fuck? You have got to be kidding me!” My eyes must have been shooting daggers, because Clive backed slowly away from me, further into the shadows of the basement. “This was all trick? Why would you do this to me? Fanging me in Florida wasn’t enough, you just had to be like the others and get in my pants too?”

  His gaze raked up and down my body. “If you expect me to have an intelligent conversation while you stand there looking good enough to eat, you’re thinking too highly of me.”

  I blushed a vibrant shade of red (in my head, of course—my body had forgotten how to do that since the change.) I dressed quietly, pulling on my clothes slow and deliberately. Arching my back here and swiveling my hips there. I wanted to give Clyde a good show since he’d never have me again.

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched him squirm during the entire spectacle. Good, I thought. Serves his duplicitous ass right.

  I finished covering my body, then stood with my arms crossed over my chest. “Well, what are you waiting for? Explain.”

  “Yes, this has all been an elaborate set up,” Clive held his hands up in front of him in an uneasy surrender. “But, it’s not what you think
. We’ve been watching you and felt that your appetite is too unpredictable, especially given the recent news headlines. You’re forgetting that you live in my territory, so your problem is my problem. Make too big of a mess, and there’d be no saving either of us.”

  He took a small step toward me, his hands still held out in contrition. “You almost killed that widowed man; it has been all over the news. I won’t even bring up the body you so unceremoniously dumped outside that mall less than an hour from your home. I’m assuming he at least had it coming?”

  I nodded. “Serial killer.”

  “Well done, but irrelevant to this discussion.” He paused and seemed to consider his next words carefully. “Left to your own devices, how many more bodies would pile up over the next few months?”

  The answer that popped into my head: too many.

  The stake in my hand dropped to the floor with a clatter and I paced from one cinderblock wall to the other. My brain flipped back and forth between understanding what he was saying, and back to not giving a shit, so long as it led to the fact that he’d screwed me under false pretenses.

  The realization that I had liked it really stuck in my craw too. I shook my head to clear my mind. Clive was talking again.

  “I considered sending a truck shipment of blood, but where would you have been when that too ran out? So I thought it better to teach you, to help you master the hunger so you could provide for yourself indefinitely.” Clive snapped his fingers, drawing my attention. “At the same time I wondered with your ability to borrow talents and absorb emotions of others, if you could somehow feed off of things other than blood. This was all done for you. But I won’t deny that I enjoyed it immensely—I am a man, after all.”

  I tried my best to ignore the thrill I felt at hearing him admit the sex had been good. Hell, even I had to admit it had been very, very good.

  And what’s better, feeding via sex had left me sated in a way that no amount of blood had been able to do yet. My mental bottle was brimming full—I could see it perfectly in my mind, the elixir of life swirling within it. Time would tell how long that would last, but it was a start and more than I’d had a few hours ago.