His jaw tightens and his shoulders stiffen. He’s holding back a lot of anger. And even though he holds it back well, I can stillfeelit in my core.
It makes me stand up and close the space between us. “Hey, you don’t have to hide those things from me.”
“What things?”
“Your feelings.”
He turns to expose his profile. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“You’re lying.”
It’s a bold statement. But isn’t that just my personality with him at this point? Bold. Brash. Defiant. That’s just the way he makes me act.
Among other things.
I touch his shoulder and guide him to the couch. His cousin is right. He’s due for a feeding. But he’s not insisting on it.
Why?
“Barty was called the Vampire Ripper,” Darius whispers. “My brother earned himself a variation of it—the Junior Ripper.”
“I can’t imagine how that feels.” I expose my throat and cradle the back of his neck, urging him to bend. He resists. “You must feed. You’re upset.”
He pushes my shoulder. Pain radiates through my chest—but not because of the push.
Because of the rejection.
I beckon him toward me. Like it or not, hehasto feed. His obsession with his study is distracting him from proper nourishment. If my job is to be fulfilled properly, then he needs to show that to the rest of the kingdom by actually feeding on me.
And besides, his study isaboutour feedings. Shouldn’t he want to feed on me more often? Why is he allowing me to sew for the kingdom? Why is he sharing me?
Why the fuck do I even care?
Resistance slowly falls away. He lazily props his lips to my throat. His fangs descend next, pricking my skin lightly. He sighs as he nuzzles deeper, exhaling without needing to exhale, waves of breath coasting my neckline like the evening tide returning. As it does at every dusk.
As it should.
Asheshould.
My eyes roll back. The silence deepens, cocooning me just as he does the same.
The question sits on my lips,why?
His body crowds the couch as he shimmies between my legs. With his knees under my thighs, he slides me easily into his lap and grips my hips, nuzzling deeper into my neck. He’s hungry. He should be hungry. He’s skipped the last two feedings in favor of talking to the Council and greeting the new bloodbags.
Seeing as he’s famished, he must have denied the bloodbags downstairs. He could have just slurped on one of them. It’s not uncommon.
But…
A growl rumbles my throat and flicks my eyes to the back of my skull.
Jesus, that felt good. Better than anything I’ve felt in days. I clamp my thighs around his hips, trying to resist the urge to hump. It’s even harder when his cock pushes against my slit.
“Let me help,” I whisper. “Please, let me recharge you.”
A sharp suck sends a wave of nausea through me. He pulls back in the same instant, apology written in his expression as he traces my jawline. I’m already reaching for his pants, totally out of control, unable to stop what I’m doing.
“I can help,” I assure him. “I can do whatever you need.”