Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(75)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

He took the bait, his fangs piercing my skin so painfully I would have screamed if I had not been gasping as he tugged on my nipple. But he did not take any blood. Instead, he sunk his fangs in further up my neck, tugging on my nipple yet again … and again … and again, until I was a gasping, moaning mess in his arms. He lapped at the little blood that leaked from the already healing wounds, pulling me upright with a triumphant smirk.

‘There’s more where that came from, Girly,’ he murmured, and I reached up, trying to undo his tie. But my hands were shaking too much from the cold and I couldn’t do it. He didn’t help. Instead, he picked me up, half-throwing me onto the bed, where I lay sprawled, scrabbling up, the ticking of the clock the only sound, save for my frantic breathing and his, rapidly speeding up.

He loosened his tie, tugging at it with one finger. It fell about his shoulders, resting across his shirt as button at a time he cast that off too, revealing his pale torso. Sitting on the bed beside me, his hands reached behind my back and expertly unhooked my bra. It fell away and he threw it aside, making me flush deep red – not that it seemed to matter as he smiled that half-smirk of his, one hand cupping my cheek, the other my breast. I reached up and kissed him as my hands trailed across his muscular arms, admiring their strength, knowing I shouldn’t, knowing they caught prey; broke necks. His ego enjoyed my touch and he smirked into the kiss, placing his hand on my stomach, flatter than it had been a few months ago – too flat – and allowed it to slip down, pulling aside the elastic of my panties.

Suddenly, he sat up, straddling my legs, eyes examining every inch of my skin as though looking for faults. I flushed under the intensity of his stare – I could see the red lust overwhelming his eyes. I fidgeted, trying to cover the hideously silver scars, but quick as a flash my arms were pinned to the sheets above my head. Again.

‘Don’t.’ His eyes scolded me, as though he was angry with me for being ashamed. Shame wasn’t in his repertoire.

Yet it was prominent in mine. My body was rigid – legs tight together, breathing so shallow my chest did not rise and fall – as one of his hands started to flow over my stomach in a torturous circle, getting closer and closer to the burning sensation rippling up my thighs to my br**sts and back down again.

‘Relax,’ he muttered, frustrated. His words were a command, not a request, and his tone almost made me push him away, stung by his insensitivity.

Relax? Does he not understand how difficult this is?

He kissed me again, his tongue seeking entrance, knowing that it would distract me, I suspected – How could he do that?

My arms slid over his back once more and curled around his neck, grabbing his tousled hair before changing my mind and letting my hands slide down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. I undid the buckle of his belt and he stilled, smacking my hand away and giving me the don’t-move-or-else look for a second time. My eyes silently pleaded but he returned to kissing my collarbone and then the flat plane of my chest, before kissing and nipping his way to the mounds.

I gasped softly when his tongue passed over my nipple and even louder when he moved to the neglected one and continued his so-near painful onslaught there. He trailed his way down the valley of my br**sts and kissed my scars – I wished he wouldn’t – before moving on, not allowing me time to think or freeze. He trailed over my ribs and down my stomach, forcing me to suppress a giggle.

And then I felt him breathe softly over my thighs and I shivered violently, my nerves beyond alert. He kissed one thigh and I felt my muscles recoil under his lips, failing to escape. His hand then squeezed my other thigh, prising them apart. I wanted to moan so badly but refused to – couldn’t – then as I screamed, a slash of pain ripping across my thigh – absurd pain: fangs tearing through sinew.

I groaned, tears pricking my eyes, gasping as I felt his tongue lapping at my blood, mixed with my own arousal. But then his grip on my thighs disappeared and he was above me, his red eyes gleaming in victory, his lips shining. He bent down and kissed me and I licked his lips, feeling a chuckle rumble in his chest.

‘You’d make a good vampire. You seem quite keen to taste all kinds of liquids.’

I smiled guiltily in reply. I could say nothing else. Words seemed to be losing their meaning. My hands made their way to his jeans again and I unzipped them, the belt already undone. He did nothing but press harder against my body.

It is my choice …

Abruptly, I felt his weight disappear and looked up and blushed deeply. Kaspar was even hotter naked – if that was even possible – and he was smirking at me, waving a condom box around, a little square of paper attached.

‘Yours, I believe?’ he growled, but there was humour in his voice. I reached up with my hand and took it from him, reading the note scrawled across the creased sheet.

‘Always use protection, sucker!’

I laughed as I remembered how I had stolen all of his condoms and ruined them when I had first arrived here. Looking back, it was hard to believe I had the pluck to do such a thing so early on.

He raised his eyebrows, ripping a packet open. ‘Surely you’re the sucker in this relationship?’

I mocked an affronted scowl. ‘Has anybody ever told you that your bedroom manner is atrocious?’

He chuckled, reaching down and pecking me on the lips. ‘You can’t blame a guy for asking.’

Shocked by the sudden, tender intimacy I stumbled over my words. ‘I – fine … maybe later then.’

The red glint in his eyes that had begun to fade as he pulled the condom on gleamed bright again. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

I felt his familiar weight on top of me, and he stared at me a while, the tension in the air growing. I smirked but it was a façade: inside I was a nervous wreck.

He slammed his lips against mine and kissed me harshly as he slid in.

I felt the beads of sweat fanning out across the back of my neck, feeling the sheets dampen, hearing my occasional gasps and moans interweave with his grunts. It was a strange mix of pleasure and pain, and I wasn’t sure which took precedent until a wince that became a cry escaped my lips and angst emerged from the desire in his eyes. Slipping a hand beneath my spine, he rolled over, pulling me on top, never breaking contact even for a moment.

He didn’t move as I straddled him, regaining courage and knowing that he had finally relinquished the control he was so fond of. Briefly, very briefly, I wondered if he had ever allowed Charity the same, feeling my heart sink as I desperately hoped I was not what she had been to him: a whore; just another fling.