Bracing her hands against the window, Charlotte arched her back, and he slid his cock between her thighs, entering her from behind with a soft, slow rhythm as his hands wandered her luscious curves. He skimmed over her hips, up the sides of her ribcage, sliding forward to cup her breasts. She moaned softly as he grazed her nipples, teasing and tugging, dragging his lips down the gentle slope between her neck and shoulder, hovering over her pulse point.
It beat for him, singing to him as it always did, an invitation as blissful as it was dangerous.
Taste me, I’m yours… Taste me...
Dorian’s cock thickened in anticipation, his fangs descending, everything in him throbbing with need.
Charlotte let out a sigh of ecstasy.
“I love you,” he whispered against her pale skin.
And then…
He bit her.
She cried out in pleasure, in pain, her body tensing, her heartbeat kicking into a frantic thrum as Dorian’s fangs pierced the artery. Warm blood pooled in his mouth, and for a brief instant he savored the unique pleasure, the richness, the utter decadence.
A possessive growl rumbled through his chest.
Mine.
He swallowed it down, the taste of it making him dizzy.
And then, at long last, he began to suck.
Charlotte finally relaxed into the bite, the pain receding as the intense pleasure took hold. He gripped her hips and slid deeper inside her, stroking her, teasing her, guiding her body through the wild sensations he knew she was now feeling—the rush of heat from the pleasure of the bite and the slide of his rock-hard cock. The lightheadedness as the blood loss set in. The unmistakable tug of a human soul desperate to flee a dying body.
And shewasdying. Every second Dorian fed, he pushed her a little closer to that black, terrifying edge.
He held her life in his hands. In his mouth. If he took too much blood, if he didn’t initiate the change in time, if her heart spasmed, she’d die.
Charlotte’s hands slid from the window, her arms falling to her sides as her body continued to weaken.
And still, Dorian drank.
Taste me, I’m yours…
Deeper. Darker. More.
Taste me…
Her pulse slowed.
Taste me…
So faint, he had to strain to hear it. To feel it.
Taste me…
And then it was nothing more than a memory, and she let out her last breath, collapsing backward against his chest.
With one arm holding her upright, his cock aching for release inside her, Dorian dragged his mouth from her throat and bit hard into his wrist. He pressed it to her lips and whispered his command against her ear.
“Drink, love. Do it now.”
He waited, counted to ten, held his breath, but still, Charlotte didn’t respond. Not a struggle. Not a whimper. Not a twitching muscle.
Her body grew heavier in his arms.
