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The rejection stung.
18
SURRENDER
He messed up.
Messed up on a stomach-churning, soul-crushing level.
Aiden gripped the bathroom sink as he stared at his face. Stared at the crimson staining his lips.
Blood.
Charlotte’s blood.
It tasted like ambrosia on his tongue, tempting him to go back for more.
His tongue moved over his lower lip, drawing in the last remnants of the evidence of their kiss. He shuddered.
With limited feedings, he didn’t feel as in control as before. Blood from a live source hit in a way much different from a blood bag.
He’d never taken straight from the source.
His grip tightened.
I didn’t bite her.
The surety of that statement rang through him. Why did she have blood in her mouth?
Concern twisted his gut tighter, and he looked at the door.
He couldn’t hear her on the other side, but she was there. He left her in confusion. Left her aroused.
He saw it in her dilated pupils and in her flushed cheeks and chest. Gorgeous and tempting, the pink staining the tops of her pale breasts peeking out of the top of her dress beckoned him. The blood that stirred beneath the surface called to him like a siren’s song.
His gaze flicked to himself in the mirror, resisting the temptation to leave the bathroom and go to her. To take care of the state he left her in.
Messy hair greeted him, a product of her soft hands raking through it. He could still feel the tugging sensation at the roots.
It had to be the blood.
That was the only explanation for how he lost control of himself.
You hadn’t tasted her blood when you chose to kiss her. Told her she was a temptation.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
He’d done so good. Resisted her in moments of torture. Lying in bed with her body near his. When she touched his bare skin.
All it took was her insecurity to draw out his natural need to protect and reassure, paired with the way she looked at him fresh out of the shower—like a dessert begging to be tasted—and he couldn’t control himself.
He always held onto his control. Never once had he felt out of control.
Charlotte tested his control.
It wasn’t so bad until they started sleeping in the same bed, and his feeding schedule altered.
Maybe it wasn’t her that tested his control. His need for more blood made him less in control; and his natural attraction for her, that grew the more they got to know one another, heightened with that need.
