The Heart's Ashes Page 55

I rolled my head to let out a breath, and my cheek meshed against a sticky paste—reminding me of the gaping laceration on my neck. But the sting was nothing now, with the pleasant sear of his blood coursing through my veins and the thrill of ecstasy forcing my every thought to desires a good girl would never let herself imagine.

I hardly even worried about how pale my legs might look or the fact that I hadn’t shaved them today. Even as the warmth of his lips, which were cool before, touched the border of my underwear, the only thought in my mind was of us; chest to chest, lip to lip, connected the way I’d wanted for so long.

“Ara?” he said, and I looked down at him. “Can I—” He ran a fingertip over the scar on my inner thigh. “Can I bite you here?”

I hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes.”

A wave of butterflies rolled through my stomach. I drew a quick breath as his teeth sank in, reopening the skin his brother had once before. But, even though, in my mind, I couldn’t remember the actual pain of Jason biting me there—only remember that it hurt so badly I wanted to die—when David pressed his teeth to the scar and the skin popped open under them, I felt only tight pressure, like a longing kiss.

Eric was right. The lust, the magic of the vampire kill felt only pleasurable. I wanted to feel his fangs though. I could feel the strength of his bite and it made me hot inside just thinking how safe I was with him; how he’d never deliberately hurt me, never let me get hurt. He was strong. Stronger and more capable than Mike, and his teeth, though they could make me feel a pleasure that would see me hate myself in the daylight, could also do great damage to anyone who wanted to hurt me. Of that, I was sure.

So I laid back and let him drink from me, from a place I had never willing let any man be near before. And it felt so right—for at least until the morning rose completely.

With a soft, vocalised exhalation, David’s lips moved up my inner thigh, over the joining bone to my hip—I’m so glad I waxed there at least—then softly, with his blood-wet kisses, followed the contour of my waist to just below my ribs. He sank his fangless bite in again, forcing a lusted breath to escape my lips as I arched my back, pressing myself closer the same way the girl in the tent at Karnivale did.

I could feel it, the way she would have felt. Safe, wanting, loved. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but, at the same time, like me, she also didn’t care. She wanted to die at his hands, and my thoughts were just as sick as hers.

“Are you okay?” David asked under his breath, his voice coming across with an undertone of a smile. When he looked up at me with liquid-red lips and jet-black eyes, I rolled my head back and smiled.

“I like you like this.”

“Ha,” he laughed softly, sliding his body over mine until he came to rest against me. “You always were a little sadistic.”

I studied his bloodied lips, considering them long before I said, “Kiss me.” And he did. Human blood and vampire blood once again mixed in my mouth—salt and sugar—making a new memory for me to hold onto when I breathed his sweet, chocolaty cologne. I traced his fang with my tongue then drew his lip into my teeth, and bit down.

“Ow,” he muttered into my mouth.

You’re so cute when you feel pain. It made me laugh so much it was hard to keep kissing. I moved my lips to the other side of his neck and scraped my nail over his skin. “Let me try to bite you?”

“You know, you might actually be able to,” he said thoughtfully. “I barely needed a scratch before to break it.”

“Why? Why are you so weak?” I kept tracing the skin, imagining cutting through it.

“I’m weak, this is the first blood I’ve had in nearly a fortnight.”

“Ouch, that must have hurt to go so long without food.”

“You might say I felt I deserved it.”

I offered a sympathetic tilt of my head to his bashful smile. “How ‘bout I hurt you instead—with my teeth. I think that’s a better punishment.”

“I have to say, I agree.” We both laughed.

My jaw stretched and my tongue pulled to the back of my throat as I drew cold air before the bite, practicing the best theatrical version of a vampire I could manage. My eyes bulged, my mind racing as his skin cracked open, splitting under my teeth—like bitting into a cling-wrapped sandwich. Each tiny, straight bone made it through, deeper where my own puny fangs sat. His blood filled my mouth again, and I released the tension of my jaw to draw back the liquid.

It felt good, a deep kind of good, like that pasta you’ve been craving all week; when you finally get it, you have to rush it down so you can fit it all in.

My tongue guided each drop to the back of my throat as it entered my ravenous lips, and David squeezed my thighs with his strong hands—wanting me, loving me, inviting me.

A warm tingle rose up from my stomach, making my heart thump unnaturally, bringing a new kind of sensation, almost like being ultimately full with hot cocoa—your feet warmed by the fire, a soft pillow on your lap, and a few melted remains of marshmallow on the corner of your lip. I turned my head away from his skin, dizzy and breathless, yet so strangely energised, my limbs racing with an almost electrical charge.

David rolled onto his back, folding my floppy, overly-relaxed body against his chest. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Mm-hm.” I nodded, taking a long, deep breath. “Eric was right.”

“About what?” David’s arm tightened around me.

“Lust.” I could barely stay awake long enough to form words. “The kill is an act of lust, he told me. Blood lust...desire.”

“Yes. It’s not supposed to hurt. Like my brother’s...” he said the end bit more quietly, probably not intended for my ears, but I heard it anyway.

“No. It was nothing like Jason’s. Yours was like...magic.”

“Yes.” He swiped my hair back and kissed my head. “Just like magic.”

“I like your magic,” I whispered, taking the hand of the Sandman as he led me away to the world of restful dreams.

Chapter 9

The daylight felt unwelcome in my room, even the song of the birds, usually able to bring me a smile, had intruded on dreams too early. I wanted more of the night with David—more blood, more of...him.

I inched an extended arm close to his body, tipping my fingers backward to trace a gentle line along him under the sheets. Still there. Not a dream. Real. I pushed up on my elbows, feeling stiff all over, like I’d just slept for two days, and looked beside me to the pillow that was usually cold and bare in the morning. My angelic vampire, laying on his back, his arm still shaped to hold my body, his deep breath coming softly between loosely parted lips, looked completely relaxed and so, so human. Trust—implicit and unguarded.

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