Page 20 of Vampire Runner

Vampires have always been creatures of the night, the dark their home. Yet Ashe’s pale skin and sable hair seem to glow, as if the moon herself has blessed him.

I trace my fingers along his cheek and Ashe turns his face, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of the inside of my wrist. My heart skips a beat, and my core pulses again with need.

Ashe’s lips curve, and his eyes flash brighter. “Cassandra,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin with each syllable.

I’m helpless against his pull, drawn to him like the flowers towards the sun. My lips brush his, and Ashe groans, his hand tightening on my waist.

Ashe turns and presses me against the rough bark of a tree, his lips devouring mine. I moan, my hands threading through his silky hair.

His hips pin mine, and I gasp at the press of his hard length against my thigh. Ashe growls, his fangs grazing the curve of my neck.

I tilt my head, pleasure rushing through me at the idea of his fangs piercing my flesh. Ashe groans, his lips blazing a trail along the column of my neck, his tongue tracing the lines of my pulse.

My hands fall to his shoulders, and I whimper when his fangs graze the top swell of my breast. Ashe growls again, the primal sound vibrating through me.

I know he must drink blood to maintain his supernatural power, and the witch in me revolts at the idea of letting him pierce my skin. It goes against everything I was taught by my old coven.

After leaving them, though, I’ve learned magic and our world seeks balance. Giving my blood to Ashe, letting him give me pleasure in return—that feels right. It feels natural and magical and intimate.

Ashe’s fangs skate lower, his hands cupping my breasts through my clothing. Pleasure rushes through me and I moan, my head falling back against the tree trunk.

Ashe groans, his tongue tracing the curves of my breasts. “Gods, I’ve dreamt of these breasts,” he speaks against me. “What spell have you put me under, witch?”

I gasp, my hips thrusting against his. Ashe growls, and the sound goes straight to my core. My body knows what it wants, what it needs.

“Cassandra.”

“Yes,” I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders. “Take my blood, Ashe. Drink from me.”

He stills against me and I squirm, desperate to continue feeding the pleasure he’s begun. I look down, meeting his glowing eyes—a serious expression in his eyes.

“Are you certain?” His voice is a smoky rasp. His entire body is taut, on the verge of losing control. His determination to respect my choice only confirms my decision.

“Yes,” I say, moving my hands to his hair and guiding him closer to my neck. “Please, Ashe.”

He doesn’t strike right away, languidly dragging his tongue against my pulse. My head falls back against the tree, my back arching against him.

When his fangs do sink into my flesh, it’s not pain—it’s pure pleasure. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding him to me as Ashe’s fangs sink deeper into my neck.

Blood wells and Ashe groans, drinking from me. I moan, pleasure rushing through me, and my core throbs.

One of Ashe’s hands cups the back of my head, protecting me as he continues to feed. His other slips beneath my skirts, his hand hot against my thigh.

Ashe’s fingers brush against the wetness soaking my undergarments and we both moan. He traces the edge of the silk, his fingers dipping beneath the edge.

I bite my lips to hold back the moan choking me, my hips bucking into his touch. Ashe drinks, his fingers finding the sensitive nub of my core. I cry out, pleasure rushing through me.

Ashe circles his thumb, and I writhe against him, my hands skating over him, grabbing him in any way I can as my body is pushed closer to that edge.

Ashe retracts his fangs, his tongue sweeping across the wound to seal it. My blood drips from his fangs and the sight is so erotic I cry out.

Ashe claims my lips, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. He tastes of my blood and I moan, the coppery, rich taste intoxicating.

Ashe breaks the kiss, his other hand sliding beneath the other side of my skirts and gripping my bottom, lifting me higher against the tree.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my core grinding against the hard bulge straining against Ashe’s trousers.

“Cassandra,” Ashe growls against my lips. He continues to circle my sensitive core and I’m helpless against the rush of pleasure.

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