The Heart's Ashes
Page 54
He hesitated, in all his perfectly-toned loveliness, by the door.
“David, you know you can do it without killing me. You know you want to.”
Strong, cool hands slid along the base of my back before I saw him appear. He lifted me into his lap, wrapping my legs around his hips as he sat on the edge of the bed. An image alert forced my eyes to close as he looked into them—the scene of the night his brother kidnapped me and held me this same way appearing on the backs of my eyelids.
I breathed in deeply, then out. It’s not the same. He may look the same as Jason, hold me the same, but it’s David’s breath brushing my collarbone, his hands clutching my hips and his skin I can feel beneath my legs. And I feel safe.
The tension in my shoulders dissolved.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I rested my brow to his. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
I could see the concern in his eyes, but it was deeply masked by his obvious hunger, and I knew he was struggling to play the caring boyfriend under the strain of the instinct-driven vampire.
“I’m fine. Are we going to do this or what?”
Ignoring my feistiness, he swept my hair delicately away, revealing my shoulder. “If I drink from you—” He swallowed. “I’d need to take a fair bit. It will drain you—leave you weak.”
“Okay.”
“But, you could drink from me after...” his tone sung with suggestion.
“You don’t even need to ask.”
He smiled. “Okay then. Try not to scream.”
“Right. I remember, it excites the monster.”
“Right.” He inched forward, his eyes, his lips hesitant, his tongue searching the boundaries of his teeth as he lingered at the curve of my neck, his hands taut with nerves or fear around my hips.
“Do it.” I closed my eyes, pressing my skin to his mouth. “Just bite me.”
His ribs expanded with a breath, his fingernail racing to my neck, slicing deeply before his lips encased the skin—forming a seal. Searing tension rolled up from my curled toes, tightened my thighs, creeping up through my twisted stomach, into my fingers, which clutched his back for every breath he stole from me with his bite.
Sharp teeth parted the wound viscously; I squeaked, but the ecstasy of the tight pull and the shiver of nerves—nerves of pleasure—seeped down my rigid body, relaxing my arms, my fingers, my legs. I sunk deeper into his hold and rolled my cheek away from his ear, opening my throat to him, trusting him, this dangerous predator, with my life.
It was as if I could hear my own heart beating; two beats, then stop. A breath held. Two more beats. One more breath. I wanted more. The pleasure of his lips after so long was like an insatiable hunger. But he bit so softly, playing games with my desires.
“Bite me harder,” I breathed, fighting an inhuman urge to throw him down and bite him back.
He shook his head, his silky tongue caressing my skin, the muscle in his throat shifting with each gulp of my life.
It just wasn’t enough.
Lust or hope or happiness or anger, I wasn’t sure, raged inside me. I needed, wanted, craved more from him.
The good girl in me surrendered to the beastly urge and I pressed my fingertips to his jaw, forcing his lips off my neck.
“Ara? What’s wrong?” He breathed heavily, his lips seeping with red, like the thick juice of berries.
I couldn’t speak. My playful side emerged; I forced him onto his back and mounted his hips, my hair hanging in his face as I leaned close. Blood trickled from my stinging, gaping neck, over my collarbone, onto his skin—each drop running over the ridges of his chest, staining the sheets beneath. The whole room seemed to turn beige then, the colours of the night seeping away with the rising sun, making the walls, the white sheets and the air feel warm, closed in, romantic.
But inside me, the addiction burned stronger, chased here by the weakness of lost blood, unbearable, intangible, a sordid feeling I didn’t even want to control. I felt more like David, like I belonged with him, for once. Like I could take life and not regret it.
His black eyes watched me, changing again as the green consumed the hunger within him. He tried to sit up; “What’s wrong, Ara? Did I hurt you?”
I held him down, a flat palm to his chest.
“I didn’t use my fangs,” he promised.
“I know.” I leaned closer. “But I’m going to.”
His fingertip slipped between me and my eagerness, slicing an exit point for his blood, approving its leave from his veins to enter my own, to fuel me, fuel my addiction, to be a part of me as only a vampire could.
The cold taste of sweet sugar burned the back of my throat before my lips felt his skin. My tongue beat my teeth to his flesh and revelled in the smooth, soothing milk of his blood—making my mouth’s water pool up under my lips.
Nothing in the world tasted like this—not even Eric.
David’s blood was made for me.
I sucked hard against him, forcing my teeth together.
“Ara, my love.” He rolled his head back, tangling his fingers in my hair at the base of my neck. “You have the softest bite.”
He’d probably never before felt human teeth, prising open his flesh as his blood spilled past. It must be a lot rougher, more animalistic to do this with two vampires—both the predator, both the fighter. And I imagined, as the breath I exhaled dragged a rise of exhaustion with it, that vampires must last that little bit longer, too.
I flopped down on the pillow and David rolled up, resting his body between my legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, smearing blood across my cheek rather than wiping it away. “But, you shouldn’t lay there if you’re not going to make love to me, David—it isn’t fair.”
“Yeah?” He gave an easy smile, tracing a line down the centre of my body. “But then I couldn’t do this.”
The muscles in my legs stiffened pleasantly as he scrolled his fingertip along my inner thigh. It tickled so much I almost wanted to crawl away.
David gave an entertained chuckle, doing it again. “I like touching you here,” he said. “It’s nice that you’re so comfortable with me.”
“Guess that kinda comes naturally when you let someone drink your blood.”
“Yeah,” he said, his lips gently kissing my upper thigh between words. “Or when you’re in love.”
“David, you know you can do it without killing me. You know you want to.”
Strong, cool hands slid along the base of my back before I saw him appear. He lifted me into his lap, wrapping my legs around his hips as he sat on the edge of the bed. An image alert forced my eyes to close as he looked into them—the scene of the night his brother kidnapped me and held me this same way appearing on the backs of my eyelids.
I breathed in deeply, then out. It’s not the same. He may look the same as Jason, hold me the same, but it’s David’s breath brushing my collarbone, his hands clutching my hips and his skin I can feel beneath my legs. And I feel safe.
The tension in my shoulders dissolved.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I rested my brow to his. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
I could see the concern in his eyes, but it was deeply masked by his obvious hunger, and I knew he was struggling to play the caring boyfriend under the strain of the instinct-driven vampire.
“I’m fine. Are we going to do this or what?”
Ignoring my feistiness, he swept my hair delicately away, revealing my shoulder. “If I drink from you—” He swallowed. “I’d need to take a fair bit. It will drain you—leave you weak.”
“Okay.”
“But, you could drink from me after...” his tone sung with suggestion.
“You don’t even need to ask.”
He smiled. “Okay then. Try not to scream.”
“Right. I remember, it excites the monster.”
“Right.” He inched forward, his eyes, his lips hesitant, his tongue searching the boundaries of his teeth as he lingered at the curve of my neck, his hands taut with nerves or fear around my hips.
“Do it.” I closed my eyes, pressing my skin to his mouth. “Just bite me.”
His ribs expanded with a breath, his fingernail racing to my neck, slicing deeply before his lips encased the skin—forming a seal. Searing tension rolled up from my curled toes, tightened my thighs, creeping up through my twisted stomach, into my fingers, which clutched his back for every breath he stole from me with his bite.
Sharp teeth parted the wound viscously; I squeaked, but the ecstasy of the tight pull and the shiver of nerves—nerves of pleasure—seeped down my rigid body, relaxing my arms, my fingers, my legs. I sunk deeper into his hold and rolled my cheek away from his ear, opening my throat to him, trusting him, this dangerous predator, with my life.
It was as if I could hear my own heart beating; two beats, then stop. A breath held. Two more beats. One more breath. I wanted more. The pleasure of his lips after so long was like an insatiable hunger. But he bit so softly, playing games with my desires.
“Bite me harder,” I breathed, fighting an inhuman urge to throw him down and bite him back.
He shook his head, his silky tongue caressing my skin, the muscle in his throat shifting with each gulp of my life.
It just wasn’t enough.
Lust or hope or happiness or anger, I wasn’t sure, raged inside me. I needed, wanted, craved more from him.
The good girl in me surrendered to the beastly urge and I pressed my fingertips to his jaw, forcing his lips off my neck.
“Ara? What’s wrong?” He breathed heavily, his lips seeping with red, like the thick juice of berries.
I couldn’t speak. My playful side emerged; I forced him onto his back and mounted his hips, my hair hanging in his face as I leaned close. Blood trickled from my stinging, gaping neck, over my collarbone, onto his skin—each drop running over the ridges of his chest, staining the sheets beneath. The whole room seemed to turn beige then, the colours of the night seeping away with the rising sun, making the walls, the white sheets and the air feel warm, closed in, romantic.
But inside me, the addiction burned stronger, chased here by the weakness of lost blood, unbearable, intangible, a sordid feeling I didn’t even want to control. I felt more like David, like I belonged with him, for once. Like I could take life and not regret it.
His black eyes watched me, changing again as the green consumed the hunger within him. He tried to sit up; “What’s wrong, Ara? Did I hurt you?”
I held him down, a flat palm to his chest.
“I didn’t use my fangs,” he promised.
“I know.” I leaned closer. “But I’m going to.”
His fingertip slipped between me and my eagerness, slicing an exit point for his blood, approving its leave from his veins to enter my own, to fuel me, fuel my addiction, to be a part of me as only a vampire could.
The cold taste of sweet sugar burned the back of my throat before my lips felt his skin. My tongue beat my teeth to his flesh and revelled in the smooth, soothing milk of his blood—making my mouth’s water pool up under my lips.
Nothing in the world tasted like this—not even Eric.
David’s blood was made for me.
I sucked hard against him, forcing my teeth together.
“Ara, my love.” He rolled his head back, tangling his fingers in my hair at the base of my neck. “You have the softest bite.”
He’d probably never before felt human teeth, prising open his flesh as his blood spilled past. It must be a lot rougher, more animalistic to do this with two vampires—both the predator, both the fighter. And I imagined, as the breath I exhaled dragged a rise of exhaustion with it, that vampires must last that little bit longer, too.
I flopped down on the pillow and David rolled up, resting his body between my legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, smearing blood across my cheek rather than wiping it away. “But, you shouldn’t lay there if you’re not going to make love to me, David—it isn’t fair.”
“Yeah?” He gave an easy smile, tracing a line down the centre of my body. “But then I couldn’t do this.”
The muscles in my legs stiffened pleasantly as he scrolled his fingertip along my inner thigh. It tickled so much I almost wanted to crawl away.
David gave an entertained chuckle, doing it again. “I like touching you here,” he said. “It’s nice that you’re so comfortable with me.”
“Guess that kinda comes naturally when you let someone drink your blood.”
“Yeah,” he said, his lips gently kissing my upper thigh between words. “Or when you’re in love.”
