Page 158 of Bleed

His hand on my back. Mine tucked into his. His palm on my thigh, my head against his shoulder. Some part of us is always reaching for the other, as if the bond has created its own gravitational pull, drawing us back together whenever we drift apart.

I fucking love it.

James and Taylor are considerably more occupied with each other than when we left them, so Elliott and I find an empty sofa across the room and claim it. He pulls me onto his lap, and we sip our drinks while watching the debauchery unfold around us.

Well, I watch.

Elliott mostly watches me.

The party carries on, the room growing louder as more bodies move, more hands explore, more moans fill the air. I’m halfway through my whiskey when something tugs at the back of my brain– a familiar prickle that I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to.

I go still.

Beneath me, Elliott does the same.

“Do you feel that?” I whisper.

He nods, his thumb tracing slow circles on my thigh. “Close your eyes. Focus on it.”

I do as he says.

Slowly, the room fades away. The music dulls, the voices disappear. Even the weight of Elliott’s hand on my leg seems to recede as the sensation grows, a static charge gathering at the base of my skull.

Then it hits.

His fangs in my neck.

My legs around his waist.

My hands buried in his hair.

The vision is so vivid it steals my breath. We’re dressed exactly as we are now, but we’re not in this room anymore. We’re alone, moonlight spilling through a towering window as Elliott holds me against him. His mouth pulls at my throat as he drinks, and pleasure rolls through me with every slow pull, venom burning sweetly through my veins.

Then we’re on a piano bench, my dress lifted and his slacks pooled around his ankles. I’m bouncing, moaning with every drag of his thick cock through my tight channel, his fingers digging bruises into my hips as he slams me down over his lap.

Just as quickly as it came, it’s gone.

I gasp, my eyes flying open.

“Piano room,” I blurt, already scrambling to my feet.

He nods, rising from the sofa with a knowing grin.

It’s not the first time this has happened, but holy shit, it’s a rush every time.

Turns out, Elliott and I did get one of those rare bond abilities he told me about: premonitions. Shared ones, apparently.

They come without warning– usually nothing more than quick flashes of the near future. Elliott has been documenting every occurrence like the giant fucking nerd he is, while personally, I prefer using them to get a head start.

We don’t bother with goodbyes. Elliott catches my hand and leads me through the crowd, weaving between bodies as we make our way toward the door. I barely register the curious glances or amused smirks thrown our way.

Let them look.

The second we hit the hall, Elliott sweeps me into his arms. I barely have time to squeak before the world blurs.

A heartbeat later, my heels hit the floor of the piano room and the door shuts firmly behind us.

Another thing I’ll probably never get used to– vampire speed. One second, you’re in one place, and the next, you blink and you’re somewhere else entirely, your stomach still trying to catch up.