Page 33 of King of the Damned
He cradles my head in his hand, and the other snakes around my waist to tug me closer to the edge of the counter so he’s snug between my thighs. I feel his tongue drift over my neck, savoring every drop of blood still seeping from my slowly clotting wound.
I still feel lightheaded, so I let him fully support my head and neck with his hand. I simply slump forward, close my eyes, and focus on the way his tongue slides across my skin.
His tongue finally darts over the fang marks on my neck, and a sharp zing of pleasure darts from my neck straight down to my core. I feel him hesitate there at the existing fang marks, and I can feel his mouth twitch as he contemplates finishing what Dravon started.
I don’t move or make a sound as I wait for him to decide what he wants. If it’s to feed, then I will let him. I knew this would happen eventually, right?
It feels like an eternity before he moves. He brings his mouth even closer to my neck, and I close my eyes as I wait for the prick of his fangs, but they never come.
Instead, I feel him place a gentle kiss on my neck, and another on the line of my jaw. Another to the cut along my cheek. Then, he reaches my lips and gently kisses me. I open my mouth to let him softly explore, slow and languid.
When he finally breaks the kiss, I open my eyes to find him already staring at me. I watch the thick lump travel down his throat as he swallows.
Still catching my breath, I let my hands trace up and down the fine details of his coat. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, setting the rag to the side, still standing between my parted legs. His long arms rest on the countertop next to my thighs. The fabric of my nightgown sits high on my legs, and I feel his thumbs brushing across the lace hem. His cold fingers bring goosebumps to my skin.
In truth, I have more than one question. Hundreds, even, and many of them start with ‘why’.
But I settle on something seemingly more simplistic.
“What does it feel like to crave blood?”
“Agony,” he answers. I quietly scoff at his one-word answer before he elaborates. “What’s your favorite scent, Adelasia?”
“Um…peaches, I suppose.”
“Then imagine you’re starving. You’re nauseous and shaky and irritable. Then the smell of fresh, ripe, juicy peaches wafts from another room. You’d be inclined to search for them, yes? And then when you finally see them, your mouth begins to water, you begin to fantasize about how satisfying that first bite will be. Now imagine you finally get to taste one, and you’re so hungry that you can’t even enjoy it. Then, when it’s gone, you realize it wasn’t satisfying at all. The hunger is still there, consuming your every thought, and so you eat another because you’re convinced you’re just not full yet. That one doesn’t sate the hunger either, and on and on it goes until you’re nearly weeping for relief that you know will never come.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t you finish what Dravon started?”
“Feedingandtastingblood are two different things,” he explains. “We feed by siphoning blood through our fangs. Tasting is…well, I’ve already explained what it does to humans and vampires. It’s an outlet for pleasure only. It provides no sustenance, no nutrition, but that’s not to say it isn’t any less delicious.”
“So you liked it then? My blood?”
“Liked it?” he retorts, pulling me even closer to the edge of the counter so he can easily lean down to whisper in my ear, the very tip of his index finger on his right hand tracing up the inside of my thigh. “You cannot fathom the thirst currently residing in my throat for you.”
I swallow the rock in my own throat. My heart begins to race with every inch his finger travels over my leg, up and down and back up again. Despite how cold his fingers are, the touch lights my skin on fire. My body tingles in places no man has ever touched before, and there’s a part of me, mostly between my legs, that’s begging Kaius to touch me there.
Maybe even taste me, too.
“Do you remember the first night I was here, when you said that fear makes my blood taste better?” I ask as he traces his nose up the side of my neck.
“Vividly.”
I gulp. “What do you think desire makes it taste like?”
I feel him smirk against my throat. “Peaches.”
I scoff, and it gets cut off with a hiss when he lightly nips at my neck where Dravon bit me, though not enough to sink his teeth into me. His fingers travel further up my thigh, so high that I know he can feel the heat gathered at my core.
I find the courage to meet his eyes, and all I see in them is pure lust. Lust for my body and my blood, and I can’t tell which he wants more.
The black depths of his eyes used to scare me, but I see so much of him in them now. Now instead of unholiness, all I see is uncontrollable vulnerability. Uncontrollable need.
Achingly slowly, he moves his finger to gently rub along my core over my thin underthings. It’s tingly and warm and the light touch of his finger has my body silently begging for more. I wonder if he can smell it like he can smell my blood.
My thighs tense as he rubs the pad of his finger in circles around the most sensitive part of me. My mouth falls open, and I quietly sigh. Each circle feels so sickeningly sweet. I shouldn’t want this, but I do. I want this and more.
