Page 41 of No One’s Daughter

If he was human, he’d have been a goner.

Blood.

He needed blood, but there was no one around. Even the animals had scattered with the arrival of the beasts. Not that I had much faith in my ability to hunt anyway. I paced the small space, my boots tracking dirt in my wake as I tried to think of what to do.

There was only one thing for it.

I used a nail to tear open a slit in my wrist and pushed it against his weirdly soft lips. He didn’t move. Didn’t respond. And the cut on my wrist was already closing again.

Fuck.

“You don’t get to die like this,” I snarled at him as I reopened the wound and tried again. And again it closed.

I groaned in frustration.

It might not have been my best move, but I was running out of ideas. I straddled him and this time used my nails to cut into the jugular vein in my neck. My fingers fisted his hair as I positioned his mouth to my skin, letting out a silent prayer that it would work this time.

“Come on,” I whispered.

Then.

He violently bit into me. The world stilled around me, and all that remained was him and me, and the goosebumps that erupted all over my skin at the way his canines plunged into my supple flesh. I moaned at his ruthless nature as he began swallowing down gulp after gulp of my blood.

The pain ebbed away as fast as it had appeared and I melted against his frame. I felt his body come back to life beneath me and Davien groaned against my neck, the sound far too sexual. A rush of pleasure tore through me, lighting every nerve on fire.

Then I felt the absolute weapon between his legs.

Oh.

Oh.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I decided against fighting it, instead opting to lean into the feeling. I much preferred this version of him to be honest and I kind of didn’t hate how good his body felt beneath me. The hard ridges of his huge body rocked against me as his grip on the back of my neck kept me against his lips. His cock—quite clearly well sized, even though it was restrained by his clothes—rutted against me, and I couldn’t help but circle my hips in response. His free hand appeared on my hips, his fingers splayed in a possessive grip as he pushed me against him harder. And harder. I was sure his grip would have bruised had I still been human.

His feeding left me feeling lightheaded, but I buzzed with a strange energy that was all need and lust. I was so fucking wet. The friction of his hard on against my core was all too delicious, and pleasure quickly started to build as I lost myself to the feel of it, so busy chasing my own high that I hadn’t noticed he had stopped feeding.

He let out a drawn out grunt that earned him a moan of my own. Then, as though breaking out of a spell, his eyes snapped open and he growled.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” he snarled, his tone venomous. He threw me back in an instant, so quickly I didn’t have the chance to blink, never mind explain. My body collided with the wall at such a force the whole caravan rocked. His strength was so great, it was like I was nothing more than a ragdoll.

“What the fuck?” I hissed at him, wincing as I touched the back of my head and fought to right myself. If I’d been wiser, I might have shown fear at that, but I was too angry to be scared of him.

How fucking dare he.

This time, I didn’t give him a chance to react as I leapt at him and slapped his face. His hand snatched my wrist when I moved to slap him a second time. For a moment he just stared at me, his eyes completely dark. If his fangs had been out I would have thought he was about to bite me, but they weren’t. He just stared.

“What?” I spat at him. “Is this how you like to treat your women, let them get you off and the second you cum you throw them across the room—”

“I didn’t…” he cut me off, letting go of my wrist, looking down to the wet patch on his jeans, somehow seemingly only just noticing what had happened. His face flickered with something akin to mortification and his features softened for a moment before returning to his usual tough guy asshole facade.

I laughed, because maybe I wanted to humiliate him, or maybe I wanted to goad him further. Either way, he didn’t rise to it, instead slumping back down into the worn settee.

He ran a hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut. When he reopened them, they were back to that stupidly beautiful brown.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” I deadpanned. “What did you say?”

He exhaled a long breath. “I. Am. Sorry.”