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She lifts her injured foot and touches the burst blister with a wince. “I won’t lie to you. If I find a story to write and there’s any possibility anyone would believe it, I will probably write it. However, as it stands right now, only the crazy Sasquatch hunters would believe this.” She scrunches her nose. “Is Bigfoot real?”
Joy and longing merge within me. “I’ve never met a Bigfoot, but I’ve spent little time in the Pacific North West where they’re reported to live.”
The way she smiles then stuffs her emotions down makes me long to break through her barriers. “Will you tell me, or are there no other skills?”
I trace the raw wound on her foot with my finger. “I could heal this.”
She grips her knee, pulling her foot back. “How? And be specific.”
With my fangs fully extended, I wipe a bead of venom from the surface of the enamel. Holding the finger toward her allows her to see the slightly opaque fluid. “My fangs produce a kind of elixir that has various effects. One is that it will heal small cuts and wounds.”
She studies my finger, then my sharp teeth. “So you can’t save someone who’s bleeding out.”
“Probably not. Though I might be able to slow the bleeding until medical assistance arrived.” The idea of my venom in her blood makes my cock come alive again. “The venom can also cause great pain or pleasure, depending on my intentions.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her eyes are wide, but I smell her arousal.
Moving my finger toward her foot, I ask, “May I?”
Unclasping her knee, she eases her foot closer and nods.
I kneel in front of her and take her small foot in my hand.
She gasps and her toes curl.
“Relax, Birgitta. I promise you, I will never hurt you.”
Her muscles ease.
I gather a fresh bead of venom from my fang and smooth it over her wound.
“Oh. That’s. Oliver.” She leans back on her elbows, arching her neck.
Seeing her throat so exposed is more erotic than one might think, and the scent of her arousal fills my senses. Easing down, I lick the wound, completely healing it. A moment later, there is no evidence she’d ever had a blister.
Her chest rises and falls and she relaxes onto her back. “What was that?”
Sitting back on my heels, I release her foot. I’m so hard my cock feels as if it will punch a hole through my jeans. “A small taste of the pleasure I can offer.”
She squeezes her legs together. “Are you sure you haven’t put me in a trance?” She cups one breast, toying with her nipple.
“No trance, just natural desire. If you wanted to toss me from the room, you’re free to do so.” Watching her touch herself, it would be difficult for me to obey, but I would.
Rising so she can look at me, she asks. “You would go?”
“I wouldn’t want a woman who wasn’t interested in me or ready to make love.” The truth of that is sobering. I stand slowly, as the act isn’t easy in my current condition. “I should go.”
Before I’ve taken my second step toward the door, she grips my arm. Her gaze is full of need. “I don’t think I want you to leave.” Her chest heaves.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close. “What do you want, Birgitta?”
“I’m not usually this easy and it’s a little scary, but I want you, Oliver. I’ve never wanted anyone so intensely.”
I know exactly how she feels. In fact, I’m flooded with desire so strong, it’s daunting. Dipping my head, I run my tongue along her pulse at her throat. Without breaking her flesh, I graze her throat with both incisors.
She grabs me tighter, desperately, and presses her center forward to rub against my thigh. “Oliver. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Fear and desire radiate from her in equal measure, giving me pause. Cupping her cheek, I bring her gaze up to mine. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just breathe.”
