Page 56 of Our Sins in Blood (Coven of Sin 1)

“Are you mesmerizing me?” I whispered as I sat back to bare my fangs for him.

His chest rumbled with a dark chuckle. “That trick only works on full-blooded humans. You’re obeying me because your body is eager to please me. And why wouldn’t it?” His voice was as soft as silk and as dark as a witch’s curse all at once. He reached to brush the pad of his thumb over my fang and pulled back so I could examine it, a thick drop of inky blood streaking down his skin. “I have what it needs.”

The sultry invitation combined with the intoxicating scent of him was too much to ignore. I latched onto him, drinking like I’d been stranded in the desert for two weeks. And that’s exactly how his blood hit my tongue. It was the most refreshing thing I’d ever had the pleasure of tasting.

His head leaned against the chair, his jaw going rigid in an erotic expression that made me suck harder on his digit.

Vincent Feral was the perfect blend of brutality and beauty. Exotically masculine. His muscles clenching tight, tendons going taut in his neck, nostrils flaring as I took what he offered.

Holy. Shit.

Corry’s blood had been sweet like candy but Vincent’s was rich and decadent.

It was almost obscene how good he tasted. I wasn’t an expert, hell, I barely knew what I was doing when it came to pretty much anything. But I knew by the first drop of Vincent’s blood in my mouth that Corry’s inkling had been right.

Vincent Feral wasn’t like the others.

He tasted dark, forbidden.

His rich flavor was almost otherworldly.

It was like he’d never been human to begin with.

I’d never done drugs, apart from whatever was in those suppressant pills Dr. Sharpe gave me. But Vincent’s blood was like how narcotics were always portrayed in books and movies, completely and utterly addicting.

A swell of renewed energy filled my whole body, the pain and lightheadedness evaporating in an instant. I almost felt like a different person, like I could run forever, like I could fight a million men and win.

Then there was a new sensation.

My skin flushed, pebbled of perspiration peppering my brow as a flood of heat settled low in my belly, inspiring a new kind of ache.

The fucker had given me a damn aphrodisiac.

Corry had mentioned the slightly differing effects of drinking vampire blood over human blood. One sated blood lust and the other inspired carnal lust.

They had warned me that vampires drinking from other vampires was an intimate affair, usually reserved for mated couples.

With the way Vincent’s eyes shone bright with hunger through the dark of the car, there was no doubt he wanted me to take more than his blood.

I bit down hard on his palm, enjoying the way he hissed through clenched teeth as he watched me take more of him into my mouth.

“Your lips look so goddamn good painted in my blood.”

I rocked in his lap, rubbing my pelvis into his and I chuckled into his palm when his head dropped back on his shoulders and bit his lip to hold back a guttural grunt.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his hands slipping down to grip my thighs over the bruises Corry had left. “I want you so damn bad, Ruby. I want you so damn bad it fucking scares me.”

His words sunk straight through my core, turning my insides molten.

Hearing my first name in his mouth was more erotic than any dirty line he could have come up with, and I was sure a virile male like him could fill a whole book with panty-dropping filth.

Seconds ago I’d been so damn cold but with the combination of the heaters, Vincent’s blood coursing through my veins, and his bare chest pressed against me, sweat dribbled down my back.

The windows were beginning to fog and all I wanted to do was fuck this vampire. Maybe then I could kick the stupid crush my vagina had for Vincent fucking Feral.

Watching him react to me like this was probably going to become a very annoying addiction of mine. I didn’t want to like him. He was a grade-A prick. He didn’t care about me, not really. This nice-guy act was probably just a play for the throne, it had to be. It was just like he said earlier. He was giving me one last chance at escape and if it failed, we were playing the game.

And he was playing to win.

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