Page 4 of Born in Blood

My mouth falls open on a scream that makes no sound, and I feel my body twisting inside of itself as a million flaming needles pass through my skin.

And then there is nothing but emptiness and agony. An endless void filled with infinite misery, and I am certain that I must be dead. This must be the punishment for all my earthly sins.

The pain has subsided,leaving behind only a trace of burning that is still seared into every cell of my body. However, in place of the unendurable agony is a hunger—nay, a thirst. One like I have never experienced in all my twenty-four years. It is not borne of the mortal need to find sustenance to survive but driven by an animalistic need to devour. I blink as my eyes adjust to the orange lamplight, which bathes the room in a fiery glow—perfectly apt given that I’m not entirely sure that I haven’t descended into hell. Nor am I certain that the man who brought me here isn’t Lucifer himself. But if the scene coming into focus right in front of my eyes is hell, then I renounce God and all the heavens, because it might just be the most depraved yet erotic sight I have ever bore witness to.

Heis kneeling in the center of a four-poster bed and is surrounded by three naked women, but it’s his body which captures my attention first, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration that dazzles in the lamplight. Every inch is contoured with such hard edges that he appears to have been carved from the finest marble. A woman with thick black hair kneels on all fours in front of him, her back arched in pleasure as he ruts into her like an animal, causing keening moans to pour from her mouth. With his free hand, he holds another by her throat, his mouth buried against her neck and blood trickling down her collarbone and onto her breast while he feeds on her. I lick my lips, and a growl rumbles in my chest. Yet it doesn’t come from me, but from a strange new beast inside me who is desperate to be sated.

The scent of blood floods my senses, the coppery tang suddenly the headiest aroma I have ever had the pleasure ofexperiencing. She, too, the woman whose blood he is drinking, moans with unrestrained ecstasy. The third woman lies on the bed, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow and her eyes closed. I would think her dead if not for the heaving of her ample bosom and the contented smile on her face. Blood is smeared over the inside of her thighs, and she makes no attempt to cover or clean herself.

I leap up from the bed and into a crouching position, poised like a cat ready to strike at a field mouse. My heart is beating an erratic rhythm in my chest while my blood pounds so loudly within my ears that my head spins. I snarl and flick my tongue over my teeth. I’m surprised at the sharp bite against my flesh, but I am too feral with thirst to give it much thought. My eyes lock on the blonde lying prone on the bed—more accurately, the rich, sticky red substance smeared on her thighs that has me sniffing the air.

I growl and shake my head, yearning to do whatever necessary to sate this burning need that has such a hold over me, but something prevents me from moving. Yet my desperation must catchhisattention because he stops feasting on the woman and focuses on me. He licks a drop of blood from his lips, and I’m reminded of the tales of vampyrs my father used to tell me about when I was far too young to hear of such monsters. Creatures who live in the shadows and feast on the blood of mortal men. But that they are real and not some monstrous fairy tale never occurred to me. Until now.

I gnash my teeth, eager to taste. Is that what he is? What he’s made me too?

He jerks his head toward the blond. “Meet Evangeline. I saved her for you, Alastair.”

My eyes rake greedily over her body. Over the full curve of her ample breasts, the slightly rounded swell of her lower abdomen, her thick thighs. The fluttering pulse in her groinwhere I know her blood runs thick and fast. But I am incapable of moving, unable to bring about the end of the raging fever that burns through me.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “You may feed.”

It’s as though his words have snapped an imaginary leash. No longer chained like a dog, I leap onto the bed, traveling clear across the room in one single, fluid movement. I dive on top of her, and she yelps, her eyes flying open and her hands lashing out to push me off. She scratches, and I gnash my teeth, desperate to get at her skin.

Evangeline screams. Then he says something soft and soothing in a language that I don’t understand. Certainly not English, but whatever it is, it calms her. She flutters her long dark lashes at me and drops her thighs wide open, allowing me to slip between them. On any other occasion, I would take some pleasure in the way her soft, sensual body yields so easily to mine, but I’m too ravenous. Instead, I simply make a beeline for her throat, where her pulse throbs strongest. Without a care about how mad I must surely be and how very wrong this is, I sink my teeth into her ripe flesh until it yields with a satisfying pop.

Her thick, coppery-sweet blood rushes over my tongue, coating my teeth and my mouth, and it is surely the most intoxicating and delicious substance I have ever tasted in my entire life. My jaws clamp down tighter, and I suck harder. She whimpers and whines like a needy little whore. My cock is throbbing, harder than I have ever felt it before. Her blood races through my body, filling me with such strength and vigor that I could surely tear her limb from limb if I so chose.

I wrench my teeth from her neck and stare down at her, licking the residual blood from my lips. I am not nearly done with her. There is so much more that I crave. I roar, wanting to beat my chest with the raw power that runs through me.

Her chest heaves, and she whimpers once more, not with fright, but with wanton desire. Why does she want this when I surely must look like I’m about to devour her whole? However much I’ve taken from her, it isn’t nearly enough to sate this thirst.

I allow my gaze to roam over her pliant, willing body. Down to the space between her thighs, where her sweet cunt is glistening with her juices. I swipe my index finger through her soaking flesh, and she shivers. “Do you want more, little minx?”

She nods, gasping.

“Even though you know I’m going to make it hurt?”

“Y-yes. Please.” The plea in her eyes matches the one in her voice, but even if she didn’t want this, she couldn’t stop me from what I’m about to do.

Hurriedly, I free my aching shaft from the confines of my breeches, and then I drive into her soaking wet cunt, groaning with relief as I find her tight despite her wetness. So tight that it takes me two thrusts to sink all the way to the hilt.

“Virgin blood tastes all the sweeter,” Alexandros says, his voice deep and gravelly.

I look down at her again, her pretty eyes rolling back in her head as I pull out and drive back inside her. “She’s a virgin?”

He laughs, but there is no humor in the sound at all. “She was but an hour ago, before I took her, yes. However, her blood will remain just as sweet for a few hours yet.”

I turn to him and grin. “Thank you, Sire.”

He offers me a single nod of his head and commands, “Feed.”

I drop to my forearms, pressing her body into the mattress. Her soft flesh molds to mine, and I bite her again, letting her life-giving blood flood my mouth once more. I want to shake my head and tear out the entire side of her throat, but I hearhisvoice in my head.

I know you want more, but the longer you keep her alive, the longer you’ll be able to feed on her, Alastair.

I have no idea why I can hear him as though he is voicing my thoughts, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s like he belongs there.

I chose her especially for you. She is reminiscent of the duke’s betrothed, is she not?

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