A pair of thin, pale hands picks up the cup and I recoil on instinct.
My surprise turns into shock when I realize it's Cinder, who has somehow managed to follow me undetected.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Hell, she may have used her glass slippers to transport here. Little minx.
Cinder offers the blood up to me. The coppery scent fills my nostrils, mixing with her unique scent.
I purse my lips, not about to let her feed me.
“I can do it myself,” I grumble, trying to take the chalice from her, but my fingers are too broken, too weak to grasp it properly.
Cinder narrows her eyes, pulling it away from my mangled digits. “Stop being a stubborn ass and let me help you. “
Her words are harsh, but her touch is gentle as she brings the cup to my mouth.
I'm given a heavy dose of the purple death until I part my lips. Cinder tips the chalice ever so slightly so I can drink. Even in small sips, the blood slides down my throat, thick and heavy, coating my tongue with its metallic taste.
I hate it, hate the way it rushes to my core and spreads out, stitching my broken body together every time.
My senses sharpen until they are filled with Cinder. The heat of her body so close to mine, the sound of her heartbeat drumming in my ears, the sight of her slender fingers wrapped around the chalice.
The aroma of her blood grows stronger, a tempting blend of metallic and sweet. Its rhythmic beat whispers to me from just below the surface of her alabaster skin. My fangs ache with desire as I fight to control my thirst.
I try to step away, but she thrusts the chalice towards me again. The blood in the cup has cooled, the scent weakening, making her scent of charred vanilla and skin all the more prominent.
I allow her to push the cup to my lips again. At that moment, I am consumed by a wild and desperate craving, my body betraying me as I imagine sinking my teeth into her wrist, her pulse fluttering beneath my tongue as I greedily drink.
The self-loathing burns deep within me. I am no different from the rest of my kind, no matter how much I pretend otherwise.
Blood dribbles from my mouth and the edge of the cup. Wet droplets hit my shirt and the countertop in bright, offensive crimson drips.
I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that Cinder’s blood would be the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. That if I were to sink my fangs into the delicate curve of her neck I would be lost forever, drowning in the essence of her.
The thought makes my body react with a fierce, primal hunger. Fangs elongate in my mouth and the room comes into sharp focus as my pupils expand with insatiable need. The blood from the chalice is like burnt plastic on my tongue compared to what I know would be the honeyed sweetness that flows just beneath her skin. And it’s mere inches from me.
My cock thickens in my slacks as the ache builds in my fangs and my balls. An amazing feat considering the healing has barely begun in my body.
Cinder. I just want all of Cinder.
I need her.
In a flash, I have her pressed against the countertop. The chalice clatters to the floor, forgotten. My lips hover a hairsbreadth from her throat, her quickening heartbeat calling to me. A low, guttural growl escapes me as I inhale her scent, my fingers digging into her hips with bruising force.
I'm losing myself in her, drowning in the overwhelming need to consume her utterly. I am more monster than man, a slave to my darkest desires.
Cinder's breath hitches, her pulse racing beneath my fingertips. I revel in the heat of her skin, the way her body trembles. It's intoxicating, the power I have over her in this moment.
I lean in closer, my lips brushing her throat. She shivers, a soft gasp escaping her.
“Don't,” she whispers, her voice a breathless plea.
Something from deep inside me has been unleashed and it will not be satisfied until it has tasted her essence.
“I can make it good for you,” I rush to say. And I could. I know she’s afraid, but if I’m pumping deep inside her hot little cunt while I sink my teeth into her skin, I know I can make her come so hard she’ll see stars. “It’ll be good. It’ll be good for both of us.” My voice is raspy to my ears. I’m giving her the promises of an inexperienced boy who is so desperate, he’s on the verge of blowing his load.
My fangs graze her skin, a promise of the pleasure to come.
Cinder stiffens, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
