I shook my head immediately, still staring at the floorboards.
“No, it’s not,” I forced out through clenched teeth. “Rack, I don’t?—”
The scent hit me so suddenly every thought shattered.
Fresh blood. Metallic and warm.
My head snapped toward the scent so fast my neck cracked, pupils blown wide.
Rack was facing me now. Calm and still, a knife loosely resting in one hand that was stained red.
My eyes tracked the bright crimson drop that slowly rolled down the side of his neck where he’d sliced. He’d missed the main artery, but the cut was close enough it made me salivate.
He smiled at me while the blood ran over his skin.
“I told you…” Rack breathed calmly, reaching for my waist as he vowed, “I’ll always take care of you.” No matter what my face must’ve been doing, he continued staring at me with that same unwavering certainty that kept undoing me.
“You can take whatever you need from me.” His thumb stroked along my side once. “I’m here for you, my Flame.”
If my head had been clear, I probably would’ve melted right there. Would’ve hidden my face against his shoulder and admitted how badly those words affected me. How no one in my life had ever spoken to me like I was worth choosing before.
But the hunger came first.
The thing inside me lunged before the rest of me could catch up. Before I knew it, I was ripping out of the seat belt to get to him in a flash.
My body slammed into his hard enough to rock the car as my teeth sank into his neck.
Rack groaned beneath me, his head falling back against the seat while his hands grabbed at my back, holding me to him like he wanted me closer instead of farther away.
His blood flooded my mouth, hot and rich. Smoke. Spice. Warm berries. Every swallow sent heat racing through my veins until my entire body throbbed with it.
More.
The thought pulsed through me with every drag from his throat.
“Take it,” Rack rasped, one hand sliding higher along my spine. “It’s yours.”
My nails dug into his shoulders hard enough to crease fabric while rough, desperate sounds spilled out of me between each pull of blood.
I couldn’t stop moving.
My hips rolled against him instinctively, chasing friction, while the hunger twisted into something lower and hotter.
Rack cursed softly beneath me.
One of his hands slipped beneath my waistband. The second his fingers found me already soaked, his breath hitched and he pushed two fingers inside me.
The sound that tore from my throat bounced around the inside of the car. Demanding. Needy.
My back arched hard against him while his hand worked between my legs, and the pressure building inside me sharpened painfully.
More. I needed more of everything.
Somewhere in the chaos, my jeans were shoved down my legs, denim trapping my ankles while I clung to him harder. The bloodlust finally began easing enough for pieces of myself to return.
Panting, I slowly pulled back from his neck, licking over the bite, catching every drop, then I rested my forehead against his.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered breathlessly, still rocking against his hand. “I don’t know what came over me.”
