Page 58 of Taste of Forever
“Oh God. So he’s not being treated well?”
Laith let out a bitter laugh. “No. Not at all. And he’s been there, enduring everything they’ve done to him for so long. He’s a different person, putting it mildly.”
“I’m sorry. That must be so difficult.” I fought the urge to lean my head on his shoulder, to wrap around him in a protective embrace.
“Not as difficult as his life has been over the last two decades.” Laith rubbed his face. “I think that’s what’s mindfucking me the hardest. Like we’ve all just been living our normal lives over the past twenty years but he’s been in Hell the whole time. He’s the most selfless person I know. It’s not fair.”
“There’s a term for that. Survivor’s guilt.”
“Of course you would know that, Science Barbie.” The corners of his mouth inched wider, more of the Laith I knew peeking through.
“That’s not a hard science concept. I might have read it in a self-help book, I dunno. But it’s a common feeling. I don’t know your friend’s situation, but I’m pretty sure it’s not your fault he’s in there.”
Laith straightened, his face returning to seriousness. “No. He made his choice to turn himself in. I had to tell that to another friend tonight. Someone else who’s feeling survivor’s guilt.”
“See? You’re not alone.”
He nodded, his intense, red gaze locking onto me. “Thanks for listening, Heather.”
“Sure.” I held his gaze, refusing to stare at his lips. “Thanks for trusting me enough to talk about it.”
“We’re not sure how yet, but we’re trying to get him out.” He clenched his hands into fists and then opened them again. “He’s our family and he’s being tortured in there. But it’s…complicated. We’re the most powerful clan, but the clan holding him is almost as strong. And ruthless. They’re not afraid to spill blood, but we’re trying to prevent any unnecessary bloodshed. So we’re trying to decide: try to negotiate a release, or go for an old-fashioned prison break. It’s delicate, because we need the people of Sanguine to know we’re capable of peace. But, if we wait too long, we might be too late for Kalix.”
“I’m so sorry.” My fingertips stroked lightly down his forearm toward his hand. “That’s such a terrible burden.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Still, Kal still has it way worse.”
“I can’t even imagine. But he’s lucky to have family like you, willing to fight for him.”
Laith huffed out a mirthless laugh. “You’re sweet to say that.”
“Just speaking the truth.”
An easy silence fell between us. He clasped my hand in his, brought it to his lips and placed a light kiss on my knuckles. My heart picked up speed as his thumbs pressed into my palms. How could a simple hand massage be so sensually charged? The tension was making my chest tight.
Laith’s massage traveled to my wrist, his thumbs tracing the veins he’d begun to know so well. His eyes lifted to mine and his lips brushed the skin of my hand as he asked a question.
“May I drink from you?”
I should have been used to it by now. He’d already taken blood from me three times. But something felt different about tonight. It felt like he was asking for more than blood. Like he was alluding to this intangible, mysterioussomethingthat crackled in the air between us. I got the sense that he didn’t just want to drink from me, but to drink me in. He didn’t just want blood, he wanted a connection. With me.
And I wanted to let this sad, beautiful vampire take all that he needed from me. After these brief moments together, I wasstarting to feel like I could trust him. He had been so open and vulnerable with me tonight, after all.
“Yes.” I almost saidplease.
He brought my wrist to his mouth, his lips nuzzling there for a moment as if to find the perfect spot. That was new, like the kiss on my knuckles and the tentative touches when we’d danced.
Like always, there was no pain when his fangs sank in. Just pressure that almost felt good, like his massage. I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensations of his mouth. A pulling draw and then a release. Pull and release. Back and forth. In and out.
My mind turned to the rhythm of sex, of pressing forward and drawing back. Filling and emptying. Connection and then separation.
With pleasure coiling under my heated skin and the heavy thumping of the music, it was easy to imagine the weight of a male body on top of me. Laith’s draws on my vein matched the beat of the bass, crashing over me for a stroke of pleasure that left me panting for the next one, and the next.
My thighs squeezed together and then crossed, hating that I couldn’t wrap them around Laith’s waist. Yes,his.Not Justin’s, not any generic man in my fantasies. I pictured slender hips with long legs moving in and out of me. I wanted to grip that messy blonde hair and taste fangs with each consuming kiss. He let out a soft moan against my wrist and it felt entirely wrong that his mouth wasn’t on mine, on my neck, or between my legs where my pleasure burned hottest.
When Laith removed his fangs, I almost begged him not to stop. Or to at least finish me off another way, but…I couldn’t. There was a reason why I couldn’t. A reason why I told him this could not be physical. But that reason was becoming more flimsy, my guilt evaporating every time this happened.
My breath sawed in and out of my chest as if I’d run a marathon, and Laith was breathing similarly. He turned away, clearing his throat and subtly adjusting his pants while I went for my water and gulped it down.
