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I feel his cock twitch and shudder inside of me, his breathing ragged and his body beginning to shake. “I’m coming,” he cries out roughly. “Oh hell. Fuck. Fuck.”
I clench down tighter around him and he groans, pumping into me in short, sharp bursts.
I feel him release inside of me, the hot spurting of his cum. He pauses, shuddering, and then he pulls out of me and I feel him spill all over my back, the hot sticky fluid running down my ass and over my thighs.
I hear him panting, his whole body heaving from the exertion, and then I feel his hand on my shoulder, pushing me down to the ground.
“Good girl,” he says, gently stroking my hair. “But a dirty girl. I need to clean you off.”
I know exactly what he means to do and even though I am spent and exhausted, another thrill runs through me. He moves back and starts licking his own cum off my back, then spreads my legs and starts licking up my thighs, like a panther lapping from a stream, strong yet delicate passes of his tongue, until I’ve been licked clean.
Then he undoes the restraints, tearing the violin strings apart until my hands are free, and straightens up behind me, getting to his feet.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, and I hear him zip his pants back up.
I laugh. How couldhebe hungry when he just licked the hell out of me?
I pull my tunic back down and shake out my wrists, glancing up at him over my shoulder. “For what?”
“Whatever you want,” he says, walking toward the stairs. “Food. Blood.”
He goes down them and I take that as a sign he wants me to follow him.
I get up, my legs feeling a little unsteady, and go after him down the stairs to the lower level.
“When’s the last time you drank?” he asks, heading to the fridge.
“The other night,” I answer, knowing I have to be careful what I say.
“Were you with the doctor?” He opens the fridge door and starts placing things out on the counter.
Shit. I can’t remember what day I was supposed to arrive in “Oxford” and I’m not sure what Abe told him.
“I wasn’t,” I say, praying it’s the right thing. “I fed before I went to his lab.”
“Pills, I’m assuming,” he muses, taking out several steel bottles.
“No,” I say. “I fed from a live human. At a feeding room. In London.”
He chuckles and closes the fridge door, then looks over at me with his brow cocked. “Uh huh. I’m sure you, brand new baby vampire, could not only find a feeding room in London, but actually sink her teeth into a fucking live human being.” He gives his head a shake, though he looks amused. “There’s no use putting up pretenses at this point, though I guess I’m flattered you’re trying to impress me.”
I open my mouth to protest, then close it. Because I am lying about the being in London part. I want to tell him that I did feed from Michael, but unless I mentioned Solon and Lenore, there’s no way he’d believe me.
I shrug one shoulder. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
He grins at that, looking boyish instead of brooding for once. “I’d prefer it if you tried to impress me in other ways.”
“Are you saying I haven’t been impressive so far?”
He lets out a small laugh and directs his attention to the steel bottle which he uncorks. “No, you have. You very much have.” He raises the bottle. “I have fresh blood here.” He waves dismissively. “Enough with the pills. That’s no way to live a life.”
Even though I did just feed, I have a hard time turning down what he’s offering. Just the idea of drinking blood instead of swallowing a pill has my stomach churning hungrily, a deep addiction stirring inside me.
I watch as he pours the liquid into two goblets and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much of a vampire as I do right now. Drinking blood out of goblets with Dracula in his mountain lair? Suddenly this is my reality.
Valtu’s always been your reality, I remind myself.
“Here,” he says, walking over to me and holding out the glass. “To your health.”
