Page 15 of Fated Blood

“Am I doing it right, Seb—” My question dies in my throat as my eyes go wide and I burst from the inside out.

Pleasure like I’ve never known cascades from my core and shoots through every single part of my body. My bare toes curl, pushing on the rocks, helping me arch my hips into my hand as I hold pressure.

“Sebastian!” I cry out, feeling fluid coat my fingers more and more. “Oh gods!”

“That’s right, baby… Oh fuck, I’m gonna come again!” Sebastian grunts. I hear his palm slap the rocks and can only imagine he’s bracing himself.

“I wish you could come in here!” I practically scream it, and I mean every word. If it was him touching me? I bet it would feel so much better. I bet it would be amazing. His name flashes in my mind again, I see it scrawled on a letter sitting on my dad’s desk.

Bane has attacked a Monroe outpost, no survivors. We believe Bane is dead.

Sebastian is not dead, not at all. He’s here with me, teaching me how to touch myself. Teaching me how to feel so good I can’t handle it.

“Come here…” he says softly, his voice caressing me all over again.

But I can’t move. Sebastian’s a vampire killer. The head vampire killer. I roll over and pinch my eyes shut, trying as hard as I can to shut his summoning call out. Slowly, as my body is filled with so many emotions, my eyes drift closed. For the first time since I was taken I feel like I’ll actually rest well. Whether or not I’m on hard cold rocks in an underground cell.

* * *

When I wake, all I feel is pain. My stomach is clenched so tight, my body curled in on itself. What is this feeling? It hurts so much! My fangs extend, biting into my bottom lip and almost drawing my own blood.

“Are you awake?” Sebastian asks, his voice gentle.

I open my eyes slightly, wincing at the minuscule light peeking through the rocks.

“Y-yes…” I answer, rolling over onto my rear end and clutching my stomach.

“Hungry?” he asks, and all I can do is nod. “They came a while ago and gave me some bread and cheese, would you like some?”

Absolutely not. The way human food feels on my tongue makes me gag. “N-no thank you,” I bite out, trying not to dry heave.

“You’ll feel better if you eat, Fayla.”

I’m sure he’s right, but what I want to eat isn’t bread or cheese. I want to pull his hand through the hole and sink my teeth into his wrist. I want to suck and lick him until I feel better, but I can’t do that, can I?

My mind races, imagining everything that could happen the moment he finds out I’m a vampire. He’ll kill me, not kiss me. He’ll drive a silver blade through my heart, cut off my head, peel my skin away.

I can’t help it, I roll to my knees and start dry heaving. My back bends, arches, as I hold myself up with my hands and spit drool. There’s nothing left in me to void…

“Fayla, please. If you don’t eat…” His voice trails off, but I ignore him. “Fayla, get your fucking ass over here and eat this goddamn bread!”

I blink in shock, looking over at him and finding angry eyes staring back at me.

“Now!” he demands.

I find myself moving toward him even though I don’t want to. He reminds me of my dad in this moment, when I would try and touch something that would hurt me or try to eat one of the human servants. His authoritative command has me remembering how to be meek and obedient, and when I get to the hole, I take the bread he’s offering.

“Take a bite!” he commands, his voice firm, and I obey. The bread feels like ash on my tongue, but I refuse to dry heave again. I chew until it’s almost liquid, and swallow. “Good, take another bite!”

“Sebastian, I—”

“Do it!”

I obey. Slowly, I lean my head on the stones next to the hole and just eat the bread. This time he didn’t give me a whole loaf, but every bite feels like rocks in my stomach. I hear more than see it when he reaches through the hole and strokes my shoulder with his knuckles.

“There, isn’t that better?” he whispers. No, it’s not. It’s worse. I need blood. “Do you want to play a game today? Or…would you like to explore our bodies more?”

I nearly choke on the bread and have to focus on my breathing a little bit. Yes, I want to feel as good as I did last night, but I don’t want a vampire hunter to be the one who does it. My mind clings to the man he was before I knew his last name, clings to who I wish he was again. How did he even become a vampire hunter? What led him to hate us so much?

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