If he’s lying, this is when I’ll be murdered, but at least, I get to touch something supernatural before I do.
My fingertip brushes along the edge of his fang and down to the sharpest point, hesitating before lightly poking what’s easily a knife’s deadly replacement. They’d slide into a person’s skin—my throat, most notably—with ease. No doubt, it’d only be a minor sting when my skin breaks, and then maybe I’d hardly realize they’re inside me. His tongue would skate along my pulse as he greedily gulped my blood.
Unconsciously, I lick my lips, hiding the fact that heat just unfurled in my stomach. My thighs clench, holding it all in.
Down girl. Let’s not get horny for the deadly vampire.
When his eyes flash poinsettia red, I consider all the other abilities Hollywood features vampires having. Enhanced scent for one—which I know he has, since he said he smelled my blood and followed it to the accident. Which means he might smell my arousal.
Oh, god. This gets worse and worse.
Careful not to break my skin, I move to his other fang. They’re enthralling in a manner that I can’t stop touching. The brief idea of poking my finger hard enough to break the skin, tosee what he’d do, flits through my mind. Would he lap the blood clean or take my entire fingertip into his mouth?
Desire ploughs through me again.
His chest rumbles seconds before a hand flashes up to snatch my wrist. Red eyes meet mine for a second before centring on the pulse in my wrist. He brings my arm close to his mouth, and those twin fangs slide against my skin.
Maybe mind-reading is a thing too, because his actions are awfully close to what was in my head.
It’s a test, I realize when he scrutinizes me again. A test to gauge my reaction, if I trust he’ll stick to his agreement not to harm me.
He skates his teeth up and down my arm twice before reaching my pulse. The tingling sensation caused by his mini blades are tripled when his tongue flicks the beating spot, making it thump harder, faster—or is that my heart about to fall out of my chest?
Desire flushes through me until I’m pressing my legs together, praying he can’t smell it, even when I know he can.
When he smirks against my skin, it’s all the confirmation I need—followed quickly by a statement that shatters my willpower. “You smell good, and I’m not only talking about your blood.”
His caress, his words, his whisper, it’s all so sensual, dragging me away to the sensations. His words are nearly lost within my mind’s haze. I’m an idiot with a death wish, but hasn’t that already been established? After all, I managed this entire trip in a beater of a vehicle without winter tires.
He twists my arm to slip my finger between his lips, sucking it down to the first knuckle…andholy Christmas spirit.I won’t survive this—him. How is this the person—the vampire—I was running from only mere hours ago? The stranger I was convinced would murder me and bury me in his backyard.
“Can vampires enthrall their victims into compliance?”
That devious smirk returns, and he pops my finger from his mouth to reply, “No, though it’d certainly have its uses.”
“Like now?”
“You tell me, Sawyer. Do I need to lure you with powers of influence until you’re begging me to drink from you, or will you be doing that all on your own?”
Heat, both desire and embarrassment, twists my insides. “I won’tbegyou to drink from me.” If only that had as much venom and conviction behind it as intended.
“You will,” he croons, returning to my arm. “Because your skin tastes so fucking delectable, I could only imagine what your blood will be like. I can hear it, you know.” He slides his tongue from my wrist to the inside of my elbow. “Your blood is racing, but not in fear—though you believe that’s what you should be feeling. No…” He lowers my arm to my side as red eyes leisurely travel the course of my body, head to toes, igniting flames within its path. “I can hear it running to the very place between your thighs—the place you’re attempting to conceal from us both. The place I’ve been envisioning tasting since seeing what’s beneath these clothes.”
He’s finally wrong about one thing. My bra and panties are no longer on because the bath soaked them, and I wasn’t risking a trip out here to retrieve anything from my bags until dressed and armed to get answers.
“Where I’ll be soon enough when you ask nicely. Because Sawyer”—his eyes flash—“youwillbe begging for it.”
The argument I was coming up with is stolen by the image of those teeth sliding between my legs.
I back up a step until pressed into the wall, and his eyes dance with amusement as the fangs slide—yes, slide—back into place until appearing no different than mine. He winks and backs up.
Okay, that was cool.I’m still not convinced insanity wasn’t delivered by Santa’s elves along with the crash…but I’m coming around.
“What now?” My arms tighten over my chest, as if I could hide the racing heart we both know he can hear. “You won’t harm me, nor kill me, as you’ve proven. I believe in what you are, and you’ve saved me twice. I promise not to run again.”
Lucian turns towards the kitchen. “You’ll eat to silence your stomach’s grumbling—it’s borderline giving me a headache, an impossible feat, by the way—and you’ll keep feeding that curiosity.”
CHAPTER 8
