Page 51 of Blood on the Tide

My throat feels tight and my chest is closing in around my heart. Lizzie still hasn’t looked away from me, her attention traps me in my chair, and I can’t help the desire that rises in response. I want her so desperately that I can taste it on my tongue.

But when she speaks, her words are for the woman next to her. “I’m not interested... in you.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Hyacinth waves that away with a graceful flick of her wrist. “Enjoy yourselves, pretties. I certainly did.”

“I know. Now get out.”

If Hyacinth is bothered by Lizzie’s rudeness, she makes no mention of it. She rises and gives a delicious little shiver. “You’re one lucky woman, Maeve. You’ve paid me well for this experience, but I think I might’ve done it for free if I’d known exactly what it would be like.” Without another word, she slips from the room and closes the door softly behind her.

I like her. I enjoyed our conversation down in the main room. But in this moment, I want nothing more than to shove that woman over the railing and lock the door between us. The force of my violent thought staggers me. This isn’t how I operate. But then, I’ve never had to worry about sharing one of my lovers before. We’re in new territory and I don’t know how to navigate it. I don’t know if I even should.

“Maeve.” Lizzie practically purrs my name. “Did it bother you to see?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but what’s the point? With her powers, she can measure my racing heart, can feel the blood pooling in my cheeks, whether in embarrassment or in anger. “Yes, but not as much as it bothers me to think about you starving on my behalf.”

She holds out an imperial hand, her fingers crooking as she commands me closer without saying a word. There is a part of me that wants to resist for the sake of resisting, but I haven’t been successful denying Lizzie since we met. There’s no reason to start now.

I rise and cross to her, slipping my hand into hers and allowing her to pull me down to straddle her. She runs her hands over my thighs and catches my hips, pulling me more firmly against her. All of the tension that’s been riding her so hard since I woke up appears to have diminished. She’s not quite drunk on blood, but she’s relaxed and indolent as she courses her hands over my sides to cup my breasts. “I was thinking...”

“I’m listening.” I can’t quite catch my breath, but why do I need to breathe when she’s touching me? I press into her palms, but she’s already moving, skating her thumbs over my collarbones and sliding her fingers down my arms to take my hands.

“I had every intention of putting some distance between us. It’s not safe for you to be with me.” She flips one of my hands over and traces the blue veins of my wrist. “But the thought of letting you go makes me want to murder something.”

I manage a breathless laugh. “Lizzie, wanting to murder something is practically your default existence.”

“Yes, but it’s different with you.” She releases my hand, and her fingers go to the buttons at the front of my shirt, undoing them slowly enough that I want to scream with frustration. “Everything’s different with you. I don’t just want to make you come so many times that you lose all track of yourself. I don’t just want to bite you because your taste is better than anyone I’ve ever known.” My shirt parts, but she keeps her hold on either side of it. “I want to keep you.”

I want to be kept by her.

I don’t say the words aloud. I can’t do that to her, to me. No matter that she seems to be feeling better, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still in an emotionally vulnerable state. I am, too, but at least I’m self-aware enough to realize it. Lizzie doesn’t seem to be. I doubt she’s ever experienced being out of her element the way she has since arriving in Threshold. It’s thrown her into a tailspin, and she’s clinging to the one steady thing in her life right now: me.

Ultimately, it means nothing. Or, if not nothing, then not enough. Not enough to save us from heartbreak. Not enough to keep her from leaving. Not enough, not enough, not enough.

I don’t want to ruin this fragile moment between us by saying as much. Brutal honesty isn’t always the answer; I have a deep suspicion that it would hurt her. Instead, I kiss her. It’s the only thing I can do to stop this conversation from coming to its inevitable end. From us having to admit that we have an inevitable end.

She goes still for one small heartbeat, and then she’s moving, her hands coursing over my body almost too fast to register. One moment I’m straddling her, mostly dressed, and the next she’s divested me of my clothing—and herself of hers as well—and kneels between my thighs, with me on my back on the couch.

I blink up at her, slightly shaken. “You know, there’s something to be said for slow seduction.”

“Maeve, my darling, this is a slow seduction.” Her smile flashes fangs, and there’s a part of me that mourns the fact that she won’t bite me the way that she bit Hyacinth. The way that she’s bitten me previously. She may give me her body and her attention, but she fully intends to keep that part of her back. Forever.

I’m horrifically greedy for wanting it. But then, it feels like I’ve spent so much of my life in a state of wanting. The horizon, the rebellion, love. Every time, at every turn, that wanting has turned on me. But I can’t seem to make myself stop doing it. I don’t think I ever will.

Lizzie kneels between my thighs, her gaze tracing over me in a stroke that I swear I can feel. I blink. I’m not imagining it; I can feel it. Not from her touching me physically, but from her calling my blood to the surface of my skin, spreading warmth in the wake of her attention. It’s disconcerting in the extreme, and yet it feels so good that I don’t want her to stop.

I lick my lips. “What are you doing to me?”

“Counting your freckles.” The warmth spreads over my stomach in a wandering pattern before blooming in my pussy. My clit aches in time with my heartbeat. Lizzie licks her lips. “I think it may take me all night.”

I don’t know if I can stand another minute of this, let alone until dawn. I start to reach for her, but she catches my wrists easily and presses them over my head. All while that delicious heat continues its path, mapping my freckles. Over my hips, around my thighs, licking over my calves and even the tops of my feet. I shiver and writhe, seeking physical touch, but Lizzie holds herself above me and denies it to me. “Lizzie, please.”

“I have barely gotten a taste of you, Maeve. Barely shaved the edge off my desire. We’ve rushed too many times in the past, but I’m not going to rush tonight. Now, be a good girl and hold your hands in this position.”

chapter 26

Lizzie

Hyacinth’s blood strengthens me, making my thoughts clearer. I hadn’t realized how much hunger had dulled my senses until I have Maeve beneath me, warm and flushed and smelling of the sea. Strange how the sea itself is one of the few terrors I’ll never conquer, but scenting it on Maeve’s skin is an addiction I’m not prepared to give up. I contain multitudes, apparently.

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