Though I must look feral with my tangled hair hanging over my face, my eyes dark pinpricks— the woman in his arms topless, her dress bunched around her waist—his attention stayed on me longer than necessary due to his surprise, much too long for polite concern or even curiosity.
When his stare raked along the length of my body, only to then jump between my dangling breasts and my thighs and back again, his lover stiffened in his arms.Their heartbeats sped up at the same time.
She smacked him on the bare shoulder.Still, he dragged his eyes along my body again before jumping to hers.
“You’re staring.”She only slurred her words a little.
“No I’m not.”He slurred his more.
She scowled and reached for her dress.
His hands lunged for hers, stilling them on the fabric at her waist.
“Wait.Don’t.We were just getting going.”
She snorted, but did wait when she should have left and forgotten him.I knew when a man was lusting after me.This one had already been aroused, but his arousal had intensified, sharpened in a way I’d experienced countless times before.
When I opened my mouth, no sound emerged beyond a croak.Slowly, I licked my dried lips, and his head actually circled as he followed the movement.
“See?You’re staring!”
With visible effort, he tore his eyes from me to her.“Not staring.Just … we need to help her.”
Fuck yes, I needed help.I tried to nod.It was more of a rolling head loll.
“She must be hurt.”As if that were reason to check me out again, he took the opportunity to do so.
The woman crossed her arms over her breasts but left the dress off.“I don’t see anything wrong with her.”
“Hey, you over there.You okay?”
I shook my head, my damp, stringy hair bouncing; sand rained down from it.My vision swam as if I’d indulged in the same spirits.I quickly stopped moving.
“Lemme…” He extricated himself from the woman and beelined toward me, if not exactly in a straight line, close enough to it.He fell to his knees in front of me, spattering more sand against my hands and dangling nipples.
“Lemme help you.”
I’d never forget how animalistic my brother had looked when he’d been under the influence of bloodlust.And he hadn’t been as starved as I was, hadn’t been locked up and left for dead at the bottom of the ocean.
Hadn’t lost his twin and had his heart ripped out from his chest.
I had to be wearing the kind of look that would have anyone’s survival instincts screaming an insistent,Run, run, run, motherfucker, run!
But not this guy.
With both hands, he reached for my upper arms.His knucklesaccidentallygrazed my breasts hard enough to set them swinging.
The bloodlust overpowered my efforts at communication.I hissed like an angry, extremely venomous serpunta.
Behind him, his lover hissed at the contact too.
I didn’t take my eyes off him.
My head was pounding.My mouth was watering.He was well within striking range.
And he’dtouchedme, the moron.
In all the years since my rebirth, after I’d stabilized and learned to control my hunger, I’d never once fed on someone without securing their permission first.
