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“I don’t care if they ‘satisfied’ you. It’s none of my business what happened between you and your donors. It’s not like I want every little detail,” she replied cattily, trying to sound as if she didn’t care about his answer.
Seth chuckled. “Feeding isn’t something sexual unless I make it that way.”
Willow sniffed in disbelief, her hand automatically covering the sore spot above her thigh. “You expect me to believe that you don’t have sex with your donors? What, did I get ‘stupid’ tattooed across my forehead while I was asleep?”
“I didn’t say that. Sex does make the blood sweeter. Compare it to a milkshake. The excess adrenaline is the ice cream—sweet and creamy. The orgasm acts like the whipped cream and together they slide down your throat, refreshing you, making you glad you indulged. The more powerful the orgasm, the more intoxicating the blood is.”
“I really did not feel the need—or the desire—to know that. But thanks for sharing,” she spit out sarcastically. “I’m gonna be really mad if I can’t enjoy one of my favorite drinks anymore now that you’ve compared it to blood.”
“Yes, I have drank from women after pleasuring them in bed. It was a give-take relationship. I gave them pleasure, and they gave me their blood.”
“You mean you took their blood. Giving implies consent.”
“Fine, I took their blood. The only side effect was they felt as though they had donated blood, which they had done, even if they didn’t know about it. And I happen to believe my…method is more pleasant than someone jabbing your arm with a needle then just handing you a cookie and some juice.”
“What exactly is the point here?” Willow asked irritably. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of him with all those other women, the way he dismissed having sex with countless other women, made her want to slap him. Hard. Possibly repeating the gesture until her hand hurt.
“The point, Willow, is that feeding is precisely that for me. Tell me, is there anything sexual to you about eating a slice of pizza?”
“Depends on how you eat it,” she responded before she could stop herself.
“Exactly. You were the first woman who has ever experienced an orgasm simply from my bite.”
“And why exactly do you think I care about that?” She tried to keep her voice neutral.
“I just know.” She waited a second for him to expand on his answer, but he didn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
“There’s nothing for you to be jealous of.”
“Who says I’m jealous? I’m not jealous,” she protested.
“Yes, you are. I can see it written all over you.”
Chapter Ten
“While we’re on the subject,” she ignored his comment about her jealousy, “other than invading my dreams, what other mind games can you play?”
“Mind games?” Seth asked, confused.
“Yeah, mind games. You can enter my mind while I’m sleeping, can you enter while I’m awake? Can you read my thoughts?”
“Yes, I can look into your mind if I wish to. It’s easier if we are both in the same room, but with enough concentration I can reach you anywhere.”
“Because you drank from me?” She had a feeling that she already knew the answer to her question.
“No.” He shook his head. “But it does make it much easier. It becomes easier still if you taste my blood.”
“Are you reading my thoughts now?” Willow asked, clearly deciding to ignore the “drinking his blood” portion of the answer.
“No.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“If I were reading your thoughts this conversation would be much easier.” Seth laid his head back on the couch. “At least in your thoughts, I can understand the full context of what you’re asking and give you a full answer.”
“That was how you knew what my bathing suit looked like.”
