Donovan, of course, unperturbed that he’s riling up a vampire who could bleed him dry, simply says, “I’ll stop calling you a dumbass when you stop acting like one.”
Chapter 13
Donovan
After dragging Nolan through the house and up to his bedroom, I shove him onto his enormous bed. He bounces with a soft “oof” and then immediately scrambles to stand back up. With an open palm against his chest, I push him back down.
“Stay down, dumbass,” I instruct while toeing off my boots and pulling my black Henley up over my head. “First, we get you fed, and then we’re gonna talk about whatever the hell that was with Callie.”
“Fuck you,” he growls, but wisely chooses to sit up instead of standing.
“If only.” I sigh, acknowledging that with a virgin girlfriend and a currently unhinged Nolan, I’m going to have a lot of blue balling in my future.
His eyes narrow into calculating slits, assessing my half-naked form with the gaze of a predator looking at his next meal. Head tilted to the side, he slowly undoes the knot at his waist and unzips the rest of the coverall, revealing his raging hard-on trapped in his tight jeans.
“Is that what you want? To fuck me?” he croons, his voice as seductive as it is deadly. It’s as if he can read my thoughts with the way he manages to twist them against me. “Is Callie too innocent for you? Not giving it up like you hoped? I mean, her legs were wide open for me, so—”
Before he gets to finish that sentence, I punch him in the jaw so hard that his head snaps to the side, and he tumbles back down onto the bed. “You know you’re a real bastard when you get like this, right?”
Nolan tongues the left side of his mouth and then smiles, blood coating his teeth from where his cheek split against them. “Does she know how rough you like it?” he taunts with an ugly laugh. “Or do you plan to surprise her, hoping she’ll be down for a little pain with her pleasure?”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” I snarl, stressing each syllable while I fight to keep my fists at my sides. “Unless youwantto find out how well you take blood through a feeding tube.”
“Promises. Promises,” he sings, looking smug that I’m as riled up as he is.
My first instinct is to give him what he wants, my anger so close to the surface I can feel it roaring in my ears, but as I watch the bruise blooming on the sharp edge of his jawline, I start to question why he’s doing this. He can be a raging dick when he’s hungry, but not like this. Not at the expense of Callie.
“You want me to punish you,” I state matter-of-factly because it’s the only thing that makes sense. “Why?”
Nolan’s expression immediately falls, replaced with a quiet rage that makes my heart leap into my throat. I’ve seen him in various stages of starvation and emo episodes, his worst being after Felix died, but this is a whole other level. His breaths are ragged, he’s sweating while also freezing to the touch, and his whole body shakes with whatever is riding him. It’s like he’s given up the veneer of Nolan the person, and this is the insanity that’s been hiding under the surface.
In a flat tone, he proclaims, “I’m hungry.”
It’s not an answer to my question, but it’s my only warning before he’s on me. Moving at blurring speeds, he pulls me onto the bed, flips me onto my back, and then straddles my hips. It’s been a while since I’ve witnessed him taking advantage of that particular vampire talent, and I’m shocked into complicity.
“Careful what you ask for,” he mutters quietly, while he moves his body in quick, inhuman jerks that make him look like a freaky stop-motion.
Before I can comment that he’s fallen off the deep end, he’s at the crook of my shoulder, piercing his needle-sharp incisors into my flesh. I gasp in shocked pain, but it’s quickly followed by the low moan of pleasure zipping through my veins. My cock grows hard while the rest of my body relaxes into the bed.
Nolan feeds with gasping gulps, my blood trickling down my shoulder and staining the black bedspread beneath me. His fingers brutally grip into my upper arms, his unusually sharp nails leaving deep crescents that come just shy of breaking skin, and his knees dig hard enough into my lower ribs to leave bruises. He feeds like he’s desperate and furious about it, like he enjoys it and hates himself for it, both wanting me and wishing I were someone else.
I know this, but it doesn’t upset me. The presence that rests between us is a welcome one, or at least she would be if he’d stop being so stupid. Also, to be honest, it’s hard to feel anything negative when riding the high of the bite. The first one is always my favorite. It’s like a slow, deep fuck that I can take my time with. Aroused but not urgent. Unlike my third or fourth one when I’m ready to crawl out of my damn skin because it’s too fucking sensitive.
This time is a little more intense than normal, but not enough to affect me in a meaningful way. My head spins pleasantly, swaying under the waves of an unseen ocean. Wanting that physical connection, I slide my hands under the back of his grease-stained, white tank, enjoying the feel of his lean muscles underneath my fingertips.
He quickly sits up, blood painting his lips and dripping down his chin. His gaze zeros in on my lust-laden eyes, and I watch as two conflicting emotions cross his face—desire and fear.
“I’m not a psychic,” I mumble, dropping my hands to my sides. “Tell me what you want.”
His indecision only lasts for a moment before he’s crawling off me to fully remove his coveralls, shirt, and shoes. Wearing only his dark denim jeans, he stands in front of my horizontal position with a grease-smeared torso and sweat-flattened hair, appearing only slightly less insane now that he’s had some blood.
“Put your hands above your head,” he demands, his gaze taking in his handiwork on my left shoulder.Shit, this is going to be at least a two-bite night.
With an inviting smirk, I lace my fingers together and tuck them behind my head instead, which earns me a narrowed glare, but at least it’s not a violent one. “Anything else?”
“I touch you. You don’t touch me,” he insists, his body still shaking from all his different needs conflicting with each other.
“Not really my thing, but I’ll try everything once,” I answer with a nonchalant shrug. The trick with Nolan is to be casual and in control when he’s out of it. It keeps his predator focused on enjoying his meal instead of wanting to rip it to shreds.
