A rich warmth flushes away the sting. It’s as familiar as the hunger. It’s as familiar as Jasper.
Though Jasper didn’t smell like lilies or azaleas. Jasper didn’t act suspicious of me either.
I hiss through the drumbeat circulating my body. “When Tessa finds out—”
He sucks.Hard.
And it silences me instantly.
God, what would Tessa find out? That my feeder is feeding from me? Technically, he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing.
That’s just what he wants everyone to think, isn’t it?I grit my teeth while battling my body. Hot and cold, fear and surrender, and something else. Something dark. Something that makes my thighs clench together uncontrollably. It’s an unspoken war.
And it’s one I’m not equipped to fight.
My vision tunnels. Hatred bubbles up my throat, preparing to spew the kind of insults that would make Nero blush. I’m billowing with irritation, overflowing with an indignant rage at this violation of my body.
But is it really a violation if I belong to him?
By a dumb technicality, no. But it reminds me of—
I shove him again. “According to the rules set down by the Murillo Family of…” My tongue slides over my lower lip. “... you have to ask first if you... Stupidfucker.”
It’s no use. Either he doesn’t care, or he really doesn’t believe that I just wanted to get away from everything upstairs.
Word travels fast in vampire circles. Bloodbags overhear just about everything from the juiciest gossip to the most delicious feuds. It’s what keeps us going when times get too tough.
Times are only getting worse by the second for us. Once word gets back to my old kingdom about how I’ve been taken as a bloodbag by a Rodin, I’m sure the embarrassing rumors will double. Though I suppose if I’m not present to hear the rumors, would they really be that embarrassing?
Especially if I’m dead.
All he would need to do is claim that he’s been stricken with the same bloodlust as his brother. Rodins protect each other. And I’m nothing but a lowlife to these fangs.
I grab his shoulders. I kick my legs. I waver between giving in and fighting.
Stop it. Stop it.
STOP IT!
Damn the training. Damn the way my body responds to feedings.
Damn the fact that I can’t stop the feeding once it starts.
Damn the tickle growing in my gut.
Sure, he wanted a sample. But it’s clear he’s taking much more than a mere sip.
My eyes roll back as my tongue fights to make an appearance. I’m gazing at the ceiling now—or so I think. I mean, I’m trying tothinkbut nothing clear is breaking through the haze ofgive, give, give.
It’s so useless to fight instinct. I’m trained. That’s just the way it is.
Even if it means it might be my verylastfeeding.
His hands roll over the small of my back.Jesus, he’s gigantic.He’s got mitts for hands. He could crush me with his forefinger and thumb, undoubtedly. Even without his vampire strength. That’s why this pisses me off so much. He knows he’s overpowering me.
He seems like he’s enjoying it, too.
Anger returns like a fierce strike, forcing my eyebrows to knot up. It’s hard to fight nature, especially when that nature has been embedded in my very DNA.