“Careful, son.” Callista stands to leave, setting the goblet of blood down beside me as she walks to the door. “Remember how easily you can break your toys.”
Her two Thralls crawl after her on their hands and knees, and the door clicksshut behind them.
The blood in the goblet and the scent of strawberries threaten to drive me over the abyss of my control. I drop my arms back to the chair, tearing the leather to ribbons.
“Winnie,” I breathe against her soft, warm skin. “You should leave. This was a mistake. I can’t control myself for long. The blood …”
“I want to know,” she whispers. “I want to know what it means to have all of you, Alaric. Because I don’t think you’re a monster. I don’t think anything about this is wrong.”
I try to push her off, but she clings to me and I’m soweakfor her. Her blood pulses beneath my lips and all I have to do to taste it is to lean forward and press my fangs against her. “I don’t want to take from you?—”
“It’s not taking if I give it freely. It’s what a good fiancée would do for her betrothed.”
I shove her again, but she crawls over my lap and I can’t deny her any longer. I tear away from her neck and crush my lips to hers, giving her a final chance to leave because I no longer have the strength to force her away.
When her tongue caresses mine, a guttural groan escapes from deep in my throat.
One taste of her isn’t enough anymore.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her close, her body moulding against mine like two pieces of the same sculpture fitting together in perfect harmony.
My shaft presses against her belly button, and the little vixen teases me, wriggling against me, poking the monster who has lain dormant for so long.
A low growl forms in my throat as I topple into the void. The world shrinks away, my vision narrowing as her heartbeat thuds in my ears.
I lunge forward, pulling her against me before pushing her back against the table, crushing her body with mine as I crawl toward her neck, my tongue reachingout to taste …
… blood.
Just a drop and I’m roaring, bucking against her, brutal and beastly and lost in my hunger. But that one taste gives me strength, clarity. I remember that I didn’t bite her yet. I blink and Winnie comes into focus beneath me, her golden eyes hooded with lust and a streak of red soaking her shirt.
Inhaling the air, I try to still myself.
This isn’t her scent. That isn’t her blood.
My eyes follow the trail. I must have upset the chalice when I flipped her onto the table.
Winnie’s eyes flicker to the blood on her shirt.
“Is this what you want?” she asks breathlessly.
My gaze narrows back to hers. Her chest heaves as she skims her fingers against the still warm blood now gliding down her neck.
She swipes the thick liquid down her chest, pulling her shirt further down to expose the expanse of her cleavage peeking out of her lacy bra.
“Do you want to bite me, Alaric?”
“Winnie, I want everything you have to give me,” I whisper, running my fingers down the swell of her breasts. “Your blood, your soul, your heart.”
“The second and third aren’t up for grabs just yet, but tonight, you can have my blood.” She dares a tiny smile. “I consent. I want to know what it feels like. What I taste like to you.”
Keeping my eyes on hers, I bend down, running my tongue along her skin, lapping up the trail of drying blood.
It takes the edge off. It makes me groan and makes my shaft twitch.
But it doesn’t sate my hunger. It doesn’t taste like strawberries and sunshine.
I know how badly I want to taste her. How much pleasure we’ll both get from it.
