Page 68 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“I’m just catching up on my to-be-read list.” I smirked at her puzzled expression. “Why are you really here?”

“Someone has to keep an eye on things. No one seems to give a damn about the prophecy or what it means now that magic is back. Mariana wants to plan a fucking coronation ball.” From the roll of Lia’s eyes, I could tell how she felt about that. “Zina is fuming. The Council has summoned Thea for a meeting.”

“A meeting?” I said darkly. “Is she going to go?”

Lia rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. She won’t leave her room. I have no idea what she’s doing in there.”

I smirked. “You know what they’re doing.”

“They can’t do it all the time,” she snapped.

“They’re mates.” I shrugged and straightened up. “I haven’t been around other mated pairs, but I hear they all act like this.”

“Like what?”

“Animals.” I chuckled. I dared to take a step closer to her. With her this near me, I smelled her magic. I breathed her in until my vision darkened along the edges. It had been a long-time since I’d experienced the heady rush of bloodlust. I minded it less than I should, but each moment with her took me one step closer to losing control. I forced myself to halt, to maintain some merciful distance between us.

It did nothing to squash the desire burning through me.

Lia’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t move. She wouldn’t. No, backing away again might be perceived as weak. But I knew better than to think she would give me any ground. She would always hold her own. “What are you doing?”

“Smelling you,” I admitted in a low voice.

“What?” She tensed, and I wondered if it was to keep herself from moving.

“Smelling you,” I repeated slowly.

“Why?” she blurted out.

“Usually, you smell like blood—other people’s blood.” Thea and Julian’s. The poor bastards who started a fight at court. Now? She was the lush, bold taste of ripe cherries on my tongue, the blooming intoxication of jasmine, and underneath those, in a place that was almost hidden, an earthy warmth that urged me closer.

Her throat bobbed, catching my attention. My gaze slid to her neck. A vein throbbed, and even from here, I saw the rapid truth of her pulse. I wasn’t the only one affected. Not that she would ever admit it.

Unlike so much of her, her skin looked soft. I imagined that underneath the leather she wore and the attitude she clung to like armor, there were other softer parts of her.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered.

“I’m wondering if you taste as good as you smell.” There was no point hiding it. She could see my eyes. She’d spent enough time around vampires at court to know bloodlust when she saw it.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she warned me, but still, she didn’t move.

Was it pride or curiosity pinning her to the spot? I didn’t bother to ask. “I don’t need my hands to taste you.”

I heard her breath catch. The promising breathless gasp made me groan.

“I don’t think enemies do that sort of thing,” she whispered, but her tongue swept over her lower lip. Heat radiated from her body, sending her scent surging through the air until the whole world darkened.

Lia stared into my black eyes.

Into the bloodlust building there.

One step and she would be against the wall. Another and my fangs would be in here soft, perfect throat.

“Enemies,” I said slowly, circling around so I could enjoy her body from every angle, “do that kind of thing, I promise. It’s called a hate fuck.”

But even as I spoke, even as I imagined pinning her to the wall and making her moan, I suspected nothing about claiming her could ever be defined that way.

“You’re forgetting that I have sworn never to bed a male.” Her words were firm but breathless, need flashing in her eyes.

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