“Why?” I pressed.
“Because when you take my blood, I want to listen to every swallow against my chest. And I’m enough of a bastard that those are my terms.” No trace of remorse crossed his face, but the bluntness just made him all the more beguiling. “You want my blood, you’re not going to take it from as far away as possible and pretend it never happened. You’re going to take it inside you and slake your thirst, and you’ll do it right from my throat where you can’t hide from what you are.”
His red eyes blazed in challenge. I sucked in a breath, my fingers digging into the seat cushion.
“I’m not going to force you. I’m not going to push my hand against your lips for you to daintily bite. If you’re biting me, you’re going to come over here and take it.”
Something inside me stirred at his words. Not just the thirst. Something ravenous and desperate, a beast with its leash pulled taut.
“So, viper”—he unbuttoned one, two, three buttons of his shirt, the white column of his throat exposed—“do you want my blood or not?”
The leash snapped.
I surged forward. I did want his blood, and I was going to demand it. The carriage was small, but now there was no distance, only the roar of need. I braced my hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into his back. Raphael tilted his head up, but I didn’t look at his eyes. Not as I drew my knees up around him, caging him in. My gaze was fixed on his neck.
So hungry.
I scraped my teeth against his skin, instinctively finding my mark.There. I bit down.
Heaven.
It was nothing like the blood I choked down every day to survive. My body didn’t rebel against the taste. It welcomed every drop. I drank him greedily, pushing my fangs deeper in. Raphael’s response was a groan. My lashes fluttered shut as I savored it. The sound. The taste. The feel of life, of power, surging in my veins.
“That’s it,” he praised. “Drink. More.”
I was already taking my fifth, sixth, seventh pull. I didn’t stop. It wasn’t gentle. It certainly wasn’t ladylike.
And it was all rewarded.
How could something so monstrous feel so right?
“There. You know what blood you want. Whose blood you crave.” His voice was dark, dangerous, powerful. Just like his taste. There was no comparison for it, nothing I could describe it as exceptRaphael. Perfection. Something creaked, but I paid no heed.
Finally, the ravenous gnawing inside me eased. I regained control of myself and slid my fangs out. Blood dripped from the sides, but Raphael made no move to wipe it away.
“Lick it,” he said.
I lifted my head eyeing the twin wounds on his neck. My mark. “Huh?”
“Vampire saliva has healing properties. We lick our bites to seal the wound.”
I stared for a second. The tip of my tongue rolled over my lips, tasting him anew. The bite I’d made peace with. It was a vampire necessity, something I had to do for survival. But licking his bare skin? It seemed almost lewd by comparison. Deviant.
But Raphael had said to not let others know I took his blood. Perhaps as I suspected, the vampire monarch being bitten was shameful.
I looked at the punctures, the vibrant crimson halo around each of them.Just get it over with,I told myself.
I stuck my tongue out and dragged it in a circle around his skin. I hated that I noticed the difference tasting him like this. With blood, it was a physical need. Like eating or drinking had been. The taste was satisfying, easing the ache inside me. But the texture of his skin, the notes of cedar and the lingering drops of blood, hit me in an altogether different way. The desire I felt wasn’t blind hunger. Instead, arousal bloomed right at my center. I wanted to squeeze my thighs together, but with Raphael wedged between, all it did was press me closer into him.
The skin knit together before my eyes. Like magic. My chest tightened, all too aware of the proximity, the way I was still holding Raphael’s shoulders, the way my body was pressed against his.
The carriage wheel snagged on a large stone and shook. I lost balance. My hands slipped from his shoulders.
Suddenly I was sitting directly on the vampire king’s lap instead of hovering above it. I wasn’t the only one affected—Raphael’s erection pressed squarely at my center. There were layers of fabric between us, but it was unmistakable. Theknowledge he was so affected, the proof of it, sent a tingle up my spine even though it was from the feeding.
There was no time to languish in the feeling.Am I supposed to pretend I don’t feel anything? How am I going to get up without rubbing against that?The carriage was doing no favors, the slight jerking hitting me. I choked on a gasp.
“I, um, fell,” I sputtered.
