Page 36 of Eternally Yours

Sitting up, he took the blanket and draped it over his lap, covering the undeniable hard-on. Not like I hadn’t seen it already. Well, in my dreams at least.

Oh, geez. Keep it together, Loren.

“I wasn’t really sleeping. Too much going on in my head,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair, his biceps bulging and chest muscles rippling. “What’s got you up so early?”

I straightened. “I… had a wild dream.” The understatement of the century.

“Dream, huh?” he asked. “Want to tell me about it?”

I hesitated, eyes going wide.

Absolutely not.

“Not really,” I said, bringing a hand to my neck as heat flushed across my chest. “I don’t want to trouble you further, so I’ll be on my way to the fridge and—”

But as I turned around, he reached for my wrist, and said, “Stay. Have a seat. I’ll get us both a bag.”

A bag. How appetizing. Last thing I needed was to share a meal with him, especially after what happened the last time we tried this. But his strong grip on my wrist was a signal that he wasn’t really suggesting I listen, but more to do as he asked because he clearly always had to be the one in control. He softened his words with a slight lift of his lips at the corners. And like an idiot, there was no way I could object to him when he used his deadly gifts on me.

I moved to the opposite end of the couch and plopped down, as far as possible from where he sat.

As he stood, he reached for a pair of gray sweats he’d left on the floor and slipped them on—much to my dismay—then walked bare-chested to the kitchenette. He grabbed two bags from the fridge as if he was grabbing two beers and headed back toward me. Keeping my gaze away from his chiseled abs was borderline unfeasible, but I did my best to pretend I was picking at my nails as he handed me the bag.

Sitting back down, he cocked his head and settled a curious look over me. “Why are you sitting so far into the corner? I’m not going to bite you. Unless you ask me to, of course.” He winked at me and smiled as he took a hearty gulp of his blood.

I narrowed my gaze, tugging at my ear as I thought about his confounding words. “You keep saying things like that, yet earlier you made it perfectly clear biting me was completely off-limits.” I stared down at the medical bag and a brief flash of my life crossed over my eyes. The hospital. Connie. My dad. Even Cruella. It all felt like eons ago. A distant dream.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“If you really had any intentions of biting me, you would’ve already. You’ve had plenty of opportunities.” He stared at me as if he hadn't expected that from me. I brought the bag to my lips, bit through the cap, and took a sip. The coldness turned my stomach.

Nic scooted closer to me, his gaze darkening. “You have no idea how badly I want to bite you. To taste the sweet warmth of your blood, Loren. I haven’t because I’m afraid of what might come next.”

Why was he doing this? I sank deeper into my seat, tucking my knees up, trying to create a barrier. Otherwise, I’d let him get even closer. And that would lead us astray. I took another sip of the blood and shuddered. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to drinking it. It definitely wasn’t helping settle my libido, which was still in high gear with his looming presence.

Nic reached over and grabbed my chin in his fingers, lifting my gaze to meet his. “I know drinking blood from a bag isn’t sexy and it tastes awful, but in time you will embrace who you are now.” He tucked a red lock of my hair behind an ear, and added, “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

His face tensed as he rubbed his forehead. “For the way I treated you earlier. Back in the car and what I said in the woods. I acted like a complete jackass. You didn’t deserve that.”

I took another sip of my blood and Nic raised his thumb to my lips, wiping the corner of my mouth.

“You’re a little messy when you drink,” he said, a wolfish grin stretching across his handsome face.

Why did he have to touch me like that? Didn’t he know how badly I burned for him? How hard it was for me to reject him? But it was too late to ask those questions because my instincts won the battle before I even drew a sword. Turning my cheek toward his hand, I took his blood-streaked thumb into my mouth. Licking off the blood, I gently guided his finger deeper inside my mouth and sucked on it until I felt him tense.

“Loren,” he said, his breath heavy. “If you keep doing that I might…”

“You might, what?” I asked, my voice nothing more than a husky whisper.

“I might not want you to stop.”

Reading his unspoken request, I inched closer, bringing my lips inches from his. “What was that you said earlier?”

“My mind is completely empty at the moment.”

“You said you wouldn’t kiss me unless I begged for it?”

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