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Absurdly, Tegan fought to distance himself from the gravity of what was happening. He tried to occupy his mind with a clinical mental inventory of her features--anything to dull the erotic movements of her mouth on him--but it was no use. Elise was too real, too damn hot, the way her spine arched and snaked with each long draw of her mouth. Her breath heaved, rapid and deep, and her lips were making deliciously wet noises in the quiet of the room.
Her eyelids flicked open as if to beg permission and Tegan was struck by the lovely amethyst color of her irises now that hunger and desire had darkened them. Her cheeks were pinkening already from his blood in her system, her lips stained a glossy, beautiful red where they held fast to his wrist.
Finish it, he told her, his tongue thick, his own mouth dry as bone. Take your fill.
With a throaty groan, Elise pushed him down onto his back and followed him there, never breaking contact as she crawled alongside him on the bed, his arm raised to accommodate her continued feeding.
Even though he was hard as granite in his jeans, Tegan wanted to remain detached from the entire catastrophe playing out before him. He needed to tune out the incredibly desirable woman who was now writhing against him in nothing but a modest cotton bra and panties, throwing off erotic heat like a furnace.
And her emotion was swamping him. Her need was so raw, so honest.
Christ, he had forgotten what that felt like. He didn't want to think about how long it had been since he'd lain with a woman. Didn't want to acknowledge how empty--how willfully chaste, physically and emotionally--his life had been for the past five centuries.
He didn't want to think about Sorcha....
He couldn't think about her, not when Elise was driving him to the edge with every moan and sigh and catlike slide of her body next to him. To his surprise, he wanted very much to touch her-- not to flex his psychic talent a little more, but to just touch her.
Reaching over with his free hand, Tegan traced his fingers along the smooth line of her shoulder and upper arm. A spray of gooseflesh rose along the trail he'd made on her skin. Beneath the thin white cotton of her bra, her nipples tightened into hard pearls. He brushed his thumb over one pebbled bud, his breath catching in the back of his throat as she arched into him uninhibited, the blood fever from her feeding making her know no shame.
He could take her, Tegan knew. She probably expected it, since it was rare that the act of blood-drinking with a Breedmate would end without sex to relieve a female of her need.
But he'd told her no mercy, and a cruel part of him wanted to make good on that promise.
Especially since he was the one being used in this scenario.
Elise's legs flexed and scissored as he continued his tactile exploration of her body. He traced his fingers along the dip of her flat stomach, then up the graceful flare of her hip. She was liquid in her movements, undulating and arching as her suckling at his wrist became more urgent. With a low, breathy moan, she opened her legs for him and moved his hand down where she wanted him. She clamped her thighs together, holding him to her and grinding when he hesitated to touch her on his own.
It was too much to resist, even for him.
He brushed his fingers along the moist cleft shielded by her panties and she jerked as if he touched her with an open flame. He stroked her again, with more purpose, feeling her need ratchet tighter with every slide of his fingers.
Tegan, she gasped, turning her head aside to look at him with dazed, brilliant eyes, Tegan...please...do something.
She put her hand down on his, but he was already in motion. He slid his fingers beneath the scrap of damp cotton between her legs. Flossy curls were drenched and slick, the petals of her sex giving way easily as he glided his thumb along the delicate valley between them.
God, she was so soft. Like velvet and satin. And the scent of her...
The fragrance of her arousal was a shattering combination of heather and roses and fresh spring rain.
Please, she whispered, forcing him into an urgent rhythm when he might have taken his time to savor her.
But her need was too far gone. He'd threatened no mercy, and while he knew he was a coldhearted bastard, he couldn't deny her relief.
Drink some more, he said, his voice reduced to coarse gravel in his throat. I'll take care of the rest.
Elise obeyed him, fastening onto his wrist as Tegan stroked her toward a shattering release. She came apart in wave after wave of shuddering pleasure, her blunt human teeth biting down hard on him as her climax rippled through her body.
By the time it was over, Tegan's fangs were throbbing, his cock straining to be freed and buried deep inside the wet, hot core of Elise's body. He drew his hand away from her, his senses swamped with the intoxicating perfume of sex and blood and warm, languid woman.
He wanted to spread her legs wide and mount her like an animal. Wanted it so badly his head was pounding with the urge to rip away the denim she'd made him keep on and fall on her in a savage, lustful fury.
Oh, yeah.
That's just what he needed to do to really take this bad situation and send it straight into a goddamn nuclear-grade disaster.
What he really needed was to get the fuck out of there.
Too bad he hadn't done that before she'd managed to goad him into giving her his vein. With a growl of frustration, Tegan eased his arm out from under Elise's slack mouth and brought the wounds to his lips. He sealed the punctures with his tongue, licking away the last of the blood and trying not to taste Elise on his skin. He even failed at that.
