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“You can’t get attached.”

I freeze up.

It’s the first time he’s really given me a proper reason. Sure, I’ve thought of plenty, and I’ve got my personal reasons, too, but the way he says it with the ache of a lover who knows he’s about to die makes my blood turn to ice in my veins.

You can’t get attached.

It’s not a command.

It’s a warning.

And for the first time since I’ve arrived at the Rodin Manor, I feel the twist of that aching feeling that resides in my vampire’s warning.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a thing in a vampire in all my years—and I mean,allof them—of being around vampires. It’s just unheard of.

Fear—I feel his fear.

And it’s utterly terrifying.

Chapter 12

Darius

“Ican’thurtyou.”

Such an admission to a human, a mere bloodbag, feels oddly liberating. Amber is aware of the reasonwhyI shouldn’t be nudging my cock between her legs. Yet neither of us can stop the process in time to prevent future destruction. Such a statement weighs the air with my desires—both to stop and continue simultaneously.

I must be so confusing to her.

Interacting with humans always comes with such confusion—and a certain level of risk. Whether it’s exposure to humanity in general or to a small group of hunters, that risk carries over from decade to decade. Sex isn’t encouraged for that particular reason, but it’s something we all tend to do, taking on humans for whatever kinks and fetishes we wish to fulfill.

Humans love pleasuring vampires. We’re irresistible to them.

Bloodbags are off-limits because they can get attached. The euphoric feeling provided by feeding coupled with the renewed sense of energy despite physically losing energy can feel a lot like new relationship energy. It’s dangerous.

That’s what made my cousin lose his fucking mind.

I’m trying not to think of all this as Amber curls her fingers into the hair above the base of my neck. Her eyelids are heavy, her mouth is parted to reveal part of her tongue, and she’s already arching into me. “I can handle it.”

Devious desires surface. What I’ve experienced in centuries past could make even the most experienced porn star blush.

Yet what Amber provides is far more satisfying than any kink I’ve explored.

I try to resist her pull yet find myself leaning into it instead.

It’s just sex. It’s nothing more.

She cups the front of my pants. How many times had I been in the same position with other humans? I don’t even know what I’m losing my mind over.

The study. My reputation. My friendships.

Fresh blood decorates my lips when I return them to her throat. The wounds have healed. I don’t pry them open like I usually do, instead choosing to just kiss them. Moans vibrate her throat and tickle my lips, encouraging me to trail south. I pause at the edge of her blouse.

“I just can’t….” I whisper with defeat. I pluck the strings of her fashion corset, revealing a patch of creamy skin. “... I don’twantto hurt you…”

“You won’t.” She cradles the back of my head and tugs me toward her breast. “I promise you won’t. Just keep going—rightthere.”

She squirms as I trace her hardened nipple with my tongue. Fingers tighten into my hair and then slowly release, succumbing to my influence. She bucks hard enough to make me ache, prompting me to unbutton my slacks and shuck them down a few inches.


Tags: Kay Widow Paranormal