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He drew the nail across the smooth skin of his wrist. Instantly, a line of red appeared. Her nostrils flared as the scent hit her. Even as she acknowledged the irrationality of her behavior, Drew took a few steps toward him. The line expanded, and flowed down the side of his hand. She watched as a droplet of blood fell to the wooden floor, and licked her lips.
No! A gasp of horror left her lips upon realizing her intent. What was she doing? Immediately, she stepped back, widening her eyes when he followed.
“No! Keep away!” Her voice sounded weak. There was no way—she couldn’t be a—a vampire.
He stopped inches from her, removing the vase from nerveless fingers and lifting his wrist to her lips.
“Drink, Drusilla.” His voice was soft. “I can feel your hunger.”
“I’m not a vampire,” she whispered, trying to turn her head away. Both her body and mind resisted. “I’m not.”
Lucian pressed his wrist to her lips. She couldn’t help herself. The first touch of his blood prompted her to open her mouth. The second made her secure his wrist in her hands. By the third, her teeth were buried in his flesh and she was pulling strongly at his vein. As she drank, feeling the hunger in her belly melt away as she swallowed the rich liquid, she wondered if she were dreaming. Had she fallen asleep, bumped her head, was she unconscious, or was she really a vampire? And if it were the latter, exactly what was she going to do about it?
***
Her body was slowly regulating. After hours of unbearable heat, Vivienne’s temperature had fallen sometime in the afternoon, and she’d been able to get an hour of rest. She’d awoken to the heat, and had promptly hopped onto Conall and satisfied her urge. That had been followed by another hour of rest, before she’d needed him inside her again.
This time, she awoke to a different type of urge. It was not unbearable, only persistent. She looked to the digital clock next to her. It was almost midnight. She closed her eyes and sawed her thighs together. She was so tired.
A pulse began inside her, and she moaned, and rolled onto her back. Turning her head, she noticed Conall was stirring, his eyes finding her as they opened. The bed moved as he sniffed at her. Without a word, he rolled onto her. It amazed her he could go from soft to hard in seconds. Many things about him amazed her.
As his thick length pushed into her, she whimpered softly, finding strength enough to lift her legs and hike them around his waist. His thrusts were wild, and hard, exactly as she liked them. She felt her orgasm creep up on her, felt as if she were splintering apart before being carefully put back together. He nipped at her neck and grunted as he came, rolling to his side and pulling her against him.
Long seconds passed as their breathing evened. When he slipped from her, Vivienne sighed, snuggled closer to his body, and shivered. “I’m cold.”
***
A tired grin curved his lips as he watched her lids fall. Reaching down to the floor for the bedding, he shook it out, and threw the covers over them. There were some rips in the material. Similar marks were also in the sheets. Claw marks. Vivienne had been feral, and she’d called to the beast in him. Between the two of them, these sheets would have to be thrown out. The mattress as well.
That would be done tomorrow. He slipped a hand under her body, and pulled her against him, sniffing at her skin. She was coming out of heat. The scent was all but gone from her body, and his was becoming more dominant. In a few more hours, she would be through it. His hand trailed down her side before moving against her taut belly. Were females became very fertile during this time, and although Vivienne was a druid, the fact she was experiencing heat, something distinctly of his people, meant she could be susceptible to the same conditions.
Conall caressed the smooth, tight skin of her belly lightly, falling asleep with his hand cradled protectively around her midriff.
***
After drinking his blood like it was some expensive wine, Drusilla had had no choice but to listen to Lucian. Her fear had been replaced by numbness, and she listened, expressionless and seated on the edge of the bed, as he explained that she was a vampire. They were vampires. He had created her after he’d taken her from the site of an accident. She’d been near death. She would need to feed on the blood of a vampire to survive. She would never see sunlight again. It could blind her, burn her, and if exposed for too long, kill her. Except for a few things: the sun, silver, a stake through the heart, and decapitation, she could not die. Ever. She was immune to human diseases. She sat and listened, committing what he’d said to a brain filled with memories that seemed to lurk in the distance.
