Page 58 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

"I told you from the beginning to just bite me whenever you need to."

"Right now?"

"Sure."

One of his arms slid around my waist, and his lips brushed my throat lightly. I tilted my head to the side, and my hands landed on the balcony railing as he slowly sank his fangs into me.

I closed my eyes as hot pleasure flooded me, and arched my ass against his erection as he drank from me deeply.

My breathing grew heavier.

My pleasure grew more intense.

But when he pulled away from my throat and licked my wounds, I didn't get off. Something told me that first time had been a fluke.

"Do you want me to make you come?" he asked, his voice silky. His tongue dragged slowly up my neck after it.

"I can't let you touch me after stealing me from my home," I breathed.

"But you decided you like my money."

"That doesn't mean I can support dickishness."

"I could use my tongue, instead."

I bit back a groan.

The offer was tempting. Very tempting.

But I did have standards. Not high standards, but standards.

I peeled his arm off my waist. "Not going to happen."

Dante got the message and stepped back, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Thank you."

I opened my mouth to tell him that he didn't need to thank me for my blood, but my conversation with Jazz earlier came to mind.

There was no need to further insult him, even though I didn't believe him about liking the way I tasted.

So I nodded instead.

"Here." He pulled one of his hands free, holding out a cell phone that almost matched his. There was a bright orange protective case on it, the same color as the sports bra I'd worn the whole time we were in the penitentiary.

I appreciated the thought, but I didn't reach for the device. "I told you, I don't like phones."

"And I told you, the alternative is using the mental bond."

I made a face. "We don't need to communicate."

"We're mates, Ophelia. We're communicating."

"You keep saying that, but when angels do arranged marriages, they usually don't stay in contact afterward. I never even met my mom. That's basically what this is." I gestured between us. "I can live here, if it makes you feel better. You can come by and bite me every morning, and send me groceries if that's what you want. But we don't need to talk. We don't need a relationship of any kind. So, I don't need a phone."

He slipped the device into the large front pocket of my overalls anyway.

Apparently, my favorite style did have one negative to it.

"You have twenty minutes to answer one of my texts, or I'll reach out through the mental bond," Dante said.