Page 18 of Taste of His Skin

“You just had to kill three shifters. You’re a vampire, Aleks. It doesn’t matter why you did it. What if this starts another Claws and Fangs war?”

For centuries our types of supe have been embroiled in a never-ending war. Skirmishes had started up for less. What if we just inadvertently got Muncie involved in one?

“You think I care about that?” His hands are still fisted as Aleks raises one, pounding on his still heaving chest. “To nalezy do ciebie. I only care about you. They wanted to hurt you, mój ksiezyca. If I hadn’t gotten to you in time, I might have lost you.”

“You didn’t,” I say soothingly. I lay my hand against his pec. “I’m right here.”

I’m not sure he can hear me.

His eyes are red and wild. “I can’t lose you. Do you understand me, Elizabeth? Not won’t.Can’t. You’re mine.”

Aleks grips me by my shoulders. For a split second, I think he’s going to shake me, to knock some sense in me, something—but he doesn’t. He yanks me into him, holding me against his chest. His hands shift. One goes to the small of my back while Aleks threads the fingers of the other through my hair.

“Potrzebuje cie.” His voice is guttural, a demand and a plea at the same time. His accent is even thicker as he translates for me, “I need you.”

My vampire exterminated the shifters who attacked me, but not without any damage to himself. His blood perfumes the air with the others. Beneath the gaping tears in his clothes, his skin is working to knit back together. He’ll need blood to heal, though. Lots of it.

We have blood bags at home. The Cadre can walk into any blood bank in Muncie and get a fill-up, and that’s not counting the donors who would be honored to feed Aleks. Since we got together, he hasn’t tasted any living blood but mine. Shifters are notoriously jealous; I hated the idea my mate might stick his fangs in any other female, and Aleks was visibly pleased when I told him I’d prefer he didn’t. Feeding was rarely sexual, he explained, but with the right donor it could be. A good bite was the best kind of foreplay, and I’ve never shied away from feeding him just because.

Right now? He needs my blood more than I do. Aleks saved my life. He protected me. If he wants to drain me to replace what he lost, I’d let him.

But that’s not what he does.

I expect him to tilt my head so that he can access my throat. He doesn’t. Instead, with just enough pressure that I can’t deny what he’s doing, Aleks guides my head down, pressing my lips against the column of his pale throat.

“Lick me,” he says softly, the rumble of his voice making his throat vibrate against my lips. “Taste me.”

This isn’t the first time that he’s invited me to lap at his skin. Nothing turns him on faster than me suckling near his neck. It’s my vampire’s biggest erogenous zone, and already I can feel his cock stirring as I begin to nibble.

Anything to prove to Aleks that I’m still here. I’m still with him.

He groans, the ragged sound echoing in my ear. He’s panting, too, and though we’re surrounded by carnage, he begins to grind himself against my belly.

“Bite me, ksiezyca. Pierce my skin. Take my blood. Take my love.”

I’m not a vampire. And yet… with Aleks, taking his undead blood inside me isn’t such an abominable idea. To him, the blood exchange is just a way of showing a connection. Feeding from a donor represents life to him, but feeding from me? It’s a way to celebrate our love.

I feed him whenever he needs it. But sometimes… sometimes he needs to feed me, and not just with food. He needs me to take his blood.

So I do.

Tapping into my skittish wolf, I borrow her fangs. My blunt human teeth develop knife-like points as I sink them into the side of his neck. It isn’t easy, and I’m probably tearing more of his skin than I should, but Aleks doesn’t seem to mind. His groan becomes a throaty moan as he lowers his hand, cupping my neck as he keeps my mouth clamped against him, feeding me his meaty, tangy blood.

Again, I use my wolf. My human side wants to hurl when it thinks about the chilled blood I’m swallowing, but my wolf’s stomach can handle it. She knows this is something our mate needs, and if there’s one thing she’ll always be willing to do, it’s satisfy our mate.

My head is angled just enough that I can breathe from my nose otherwise I might’ve been smothered by Aleks’s insistence that I drink from him. Only when the flow starts to become a trickle do I stop sucking.

I have to. If I keep going, he’ll be drained and I can’t allow that.

Pushing against his chest, he reluctantly releases me. I press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then straighten up. When I look at his eyes again, I’m so freaking relieved to see that they’ve mellowed to their familiar sea-foam green color.

As pale as he usually is, though, he’s gone as white as a sheet of paper. Purple shadows underline his eyes. His cheeks are sunken in, bones jutting out.

He looks half-starved.

I tug on my shirt. Aleks hisses when he notices that, like his clothes, it’s been torn by the shifter’s claws. So has my shoulder. My regenerative properties have already kicked in, so the marks are halfway closed over, but they’re still there and, oh, my mate doesn’t like that.

“Don’t worry about them,” I say hurriedly, baring my throat toward him. “I took your blood. Take mine. You need it.”

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