“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just…wanted to help, I?—”
“I know, and I’m grateful… for your help, I just?—”
I fall back further, trying to get away, nearly falling off the bed as I do so.
“I went too far,” I say, shame blanketing me. “I bit you.”
I lick my fangs, relieved when I don’t feel the sting of venom. I didn’t claim her.
I just fed on her.
My insides are a mess as I feel both disappointed I didn’t claim her and relieved as hell I didn’t claim her.
Do Iwantto claim her? The fact I can’t say no does not bode well for me.
Or Ivy.
Fuck.
“It was an accident,” I say, imploring her gaze. Her eyebrows furrow and she frowns.
“It was just… the bloodheat.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or her. Or both us, perhaps.
“Right. Just… the bloodheat,” she whispers. I nod, getting off the bed.
“Um… don’t… don’t let yourself crash, okay?” I say as I stand, trying to adjust my cock and cover my wet spot with my hand. I feel equal parts embarrassed and ashamed.
What the fuck is wrong with me? What is happening to me?
She moves towards me, and I pull back and her eyes fill with tears.
“Are you rejecting me?” she whispers.
“What? No,” I say, confused, panic hitting me tenfold. How can I reject something I never claimed! Or something that’s never claimed me?
“It sure feels like rejection,” she says. I shake my head.
“No, I didn’t claim you. I just… bit you.”
I just bit you. I didn’t claim you.
I repeat the words like a mantra, hoping they’ll sink in.
She pouts, slinking away, casting me a watery gaze.
“I think you should go,” she says.
“Ivy—”
“You came. You helped. I’m better now. I don’t need you, Wesley.”
Her words hit me like a sword to the chest.
I don’t need you, Wesley.
Why does that hurt so fucking much?
Part of me wants to protest. To tell her she does. Need me.
