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She went taut. Tension shrieked through her like an off-key violin string.
I sucked harder, afraid she’d shake me off. But she let me drink.
I took another few mouthfuls, then licked her wrist, sealing the punctures my fangs had made. Her skin tasted salty from the blood, and delicately feminine.
She shuddered, and I looked up at her.
Our eyes met and something arced between us. Something hot, sexual. Dark.
It shouldn’t have been possible—not in my battered, dehydrated state—but my dick stirred.
Holding her gaze, I touched my tongue to one of the marks I’d made and licked a line across the tendons of her wrist to the other mark.
Her pupils darkened and expanded until the gray was a bright, thin band around a pool of blackness. Her throat worked, her swallow audible in the small space.
I inhaled, taking her fresh-grass scent into my lungs.
Her lips parted. In the dusky light, they were a soft rose.
I curved my hand around her nape and drew her down to me.
Slowly, so she could escape if she chose.
So she couldn’t tell herself she didn’t want this as much as I did.
When her mouth was an inch from mine, I paused.
Our gazes were still locked. Our breath mingled. Hers was short and choppy, aroused.
I brought her the last inch to me. So fucking hot for her, but knowing I wouldn’t be able to take anything but this kiss.
I licked the seam of her lips. “Kiss me.”
She made a low, needy sound and put her hands on either side of my head. Her mouth opened and she sucked my tongue inside.
I brought my other hand up and ran it down her side, taking in the shape of her body. The indented waist, the slope of her hip.
And then we were kissing. Deep, hungry kisses; a string of them that went on and on. She tasted like blood-wine and woman. I wanted her with everything I had.
We broke the kiss at the same time, but neither of us lifted our head. I kissed her cheek, nuzzled her behind the ear. Inwardly cursing that we couldn’t finish this now.
But we would.
“Tell me your name,” I said against her neck. “Not Reaper. Your real name.”
She pulled back and blinked at me like Sleeping Beauty waking from a spell.
“Tell me.” It was a demand now.
Her eyes widened. “Fuck.” She jerked out of my grip and jumped up.
I rolled onto my side so I could see her. The room spun around me. My stomach churned. I tightened my jaw and focused on breathing.
When the dizzy spell had passed, I propped my head on a hand and studied her. She had an open bottle of blood-wine in her hand. Her chest jerked with agitated breaths.
Up until now, the woman had been mostly stone-faced in our interactions. Cold, professional. But kiss her and she got all kinds of upset.
Interesting.
