“It’s been years since I’ve fed from the vein,” I confess. “I’m afraid I will have no way of stopping myself if I start.”
“You can, and you will.” She shifts the braid away from her shoulder and pulls the fabric down past her collarbone. “Please.”
I hate the way my mouth salivates at the sight of her, the smell of her. Pressing my lips together, I fight the ache in my jaw and teeth. Fire creeps up my throat, the desperate feel of hunger scratching at its walls.
“No.” Francesca frowns, tears already in her warm brown eyes. I sigh, relenting to her indignance. “Not your neck.”
“Then where?”
“Your thigh.” A mischievous smile curls my lips as color floods her face. “Easier to hide a bite.”
“Oh… of-of c-course,” she stutters, then wordlessly rises to her feet.
“Closer,” I instruct, and she moves forward. “Lift your nightgown. Higher, yes, higher than that even.”
Francesca is as round in her hips and thighs as she is in her face, and I thank the fates silently for making such a supple creature. She is perfectly shaped, as if crafted by a master sculptor with careful hands. The curve of her thighs meet at the apex of her womanhood, which is thick with dark curls, and I suck in a deep breath, though I no longer need it. Somewherelower, my stomach ignites with need, heat springing my cock to life.
“Closer, Francesca.” My voice cracks on her name.
Flesh meets flesh as her skin presses to my lips. I open my mouth and lick her skin, rewarding me with a shiver. I can’t help but look up into her face, satisfied with the desire I see glittering in her dewy eyes. When I sink my fangs into the thickest part of her leg, she moans, unaware of the way her hips rock forward.
The distraction of her pleasure lasts for a moment as the first taste of her blood slips along my tongue. Sweet like grapes, as though picked from the vine. I know this taste; I have sampled it these last months during her visits. Realization settles in, and suddenly the world comes crashing down. Francesca has been deceiving me.
Full and luscious, her blood quenches the aching in my teeth, and flows right into my undead heart. Disgust and admiration poison the satisfaction that comes with relieving my hunger, yet I cannot break away.
“Gray?” Francesca moans. Her legs are shaking, and as I glance up, I see the pale pallor of her cheeks. I find her minor discomfort a penance for her deception.
“Naughty girl,” I hum against the inside of her thigh. “You’ve been sneaking your blood into my rations.”
Francesca attempts to pull back, but I keep a firm grip on her leg. I might not be at full strength, but I am capable of making it difficult for her to break free of my hold.
“I should have told you.” Guilty, but guiltless. She wants to appear indifferent. If it wasn’t for her stubbornness and the way her bottom lip is sticking out, I would have sent her on her way.
“You should have,” I agree.
“You wouldn’t have drank any of it, though.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have touched any of it.” She blanches at the way my voice hardens. I tighten my grip on her thigh,roaming higher to the round curve of her bare bottom. From here, with my face so close, I could kiss her cunt and taste the rest of her all in one night.
“I only did what I thought was right,” she counters, but her voice trembles.
“Butwhydid you do it?” As much as I want to devour her, I also need to know her motivations. Most nuns are resolute in her devotion, but not this one.
For a long moment, she is silent. “I thought long and hard about it, and I prayed, asking for guidance. None came. I have never felt suited for this role, despite how much I wanted to be the dutiful daughter. But when I saw you for the first time—chained here, beaten and abused—I felt my faith shaken. The others, they called you a demon, talked about how they would end your life after its use was up, and all I could think about was how horrible they were for saying such evil things.”
“They weren’t wrong,” I say. To think that she sees me as innocent when I have lived my immortal life in opposition of that very ideal is astounding. “I am all of those things and more, Francesca.”
“Don’t say things like that.” With her skirt still hitched above her waist, I am unable to take her seriously, despite how cross she is. “They don’t know you, not in the way that I’ve come to know you.”
“And what? You thought that if you treated the monster nicely, if you fed him, he would behave and change their minds? There’s no sense in that, Francesca.” The last thing I want to do is hurt her. No, I would much rather feel her curls against my cheeks as slip my tongue along her arousal. “You can’t change their minds any more than you can change what I am.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Promise that you won’t risk your life for me.” I inch closer to taste her, holding on until she does as I say. “Never again. Not like this.”
“Francesca.” My voice is a warning, the only one that she has before I nuzzle her center. “Promise me.”
“Gray…” Her voice trembles. “Gray I…”
