Hunger (14 page)

Eve took hold of his wrist but he caught hers, stopping her from bringing his arm up to her lips.

“No.” The huskiness in his voice had increased, spelling out his need and how much this was affecting him. Could he see in her eyes and sense in her that he wasn’t alone and she felt it too, was adrift and lost in unfamiliar territory? His hand trembled against hers. He hesitated and then tilted his head to his left, baring his throat. “Here. I want to feel—I mean… that’s where you’ll normally feed from so you need to learn how to bite here.”

She shook all over, his silent admission that he needed her to bite his throat twisting her insides tighter.

She stared at the unmarked skin. Uncertainty flowed through her, making her hesitate.

Tor released her wrist and pointed to a spot on the curve of his throat. “Bite here. It’s the best place. You’ll have a rich reward in blood, a fast feed, and will create a good seal with your lips to stop you from spilling it everywhere.”

She realised that there was an obstacle in his grand scheme to make her bite his throat. She would have to lean over him the whole time or settle herself on his lap. The thought of straddling his thighs, bringing their bodies into intimate contact, was almost too much for her to bear.

Eve took a deep breath to bolster her fading courage and placed her right knee beside his thigh, wedging it into the gap between his leg and the side of the padded armchair. Tor tensed, as if he hadn’t expected her to do such a thing. Had he expected her to lean over him? It was too late now to back out and take the safer option.

She wedged her left knee beside his right thigh and settled herself on his lap.

Tor’s fingers clenched the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles blazed white.

Stopping himself from taking hold of her? She shivered at the thought of him placing his large hands on her backside and drawing her against him.

She forced her mind back to the task at hand and suppressed the remaining part of her that rebelled against the thought of biting someone.

His bare shoulders jerked when she settled her hands on them, his muscles twitching deliciously beneath her fingers. She resisted the temptation to drop her hands lower and press her palms into the broad expanse of his chest, and eyed the spot on his throat he had pointed out. The vein there was pronounced, as if his blood were eager for her to take it and was showing her where to bite.

Eve leaned forwards, a bolt of electricity tearing through her when her breasts pressed against his bare chest and he tensed again. She swept her lips across his throat, her fangs itching to press into his flesh. He was cool and soft beneath her questing mouth, and she lost herself in exploring him, tasting his skin and listening to each sharp intake of breath he made in response to every caress of her lips.

She licked the line of his artery and he tilted his head further, giving her more access. A moan rumbled through him, the deep throaty sound sending a cascade of chills rushing down her spine and arms. It was unrestrained, utterly male, drenched in pleasure.

So unlike Tor.

The man beneath her hands and mouth, his hard powerful body pressing into hers, was a completely different one to the man she had met that night in One. Here in this moment, he wasn’t the cold-blooded detached killer. He was a hot-blooded intense lover.

And damn she wanted all of him.

“Bite me now.” Desperation laced his voice, calling to her, intoxicating her.

She opened her mouth and poised herself to strike.

Cold shot through her, her stomach somersaulted, and her heart lurched in her chest. What the hell was she doing?

She pushed away from him.

“I can’t.”

Tor grabbed her waist and held her in place on his lap, the breadth of his impressive chest pressing into hers with each hard breath, making her feel small.

“You can. You must.” He took one of his hands from her waist and nicked his throat with his claws, drawing a thin line of blood.

The scent of it swamped her senses, overwhelming her.

“Taste it, Eve,” Tor husked, sending a shiver tumbling through her and reigniting her need. “You know you want it. Taste me.”

Eve dipped her head and swept her tongue over the bead of blood that had blossomed on his throat. The earthiness of it exploded on her taste buds and filled every inch of her, erasing all her fear and trepidation.

Her fangs grew larger, making her gums throb, and her eyes switched again, blazing crimson. She licked the cut again, trembling at the taste of Tor’s potent blood and how her body cried out for more. Tor moaned close to her ear, the sound stirring her hunger back to boiling point.

She wrapped her lips around the small wound and sucked.

Tor grabbed her, his large hands grasping her sides, pressing into her waist. She shook at the feel of them on her, the strength that radiated from that grip, and the gentleness of it. He held her lightly, but she could feel he wanted to clutch her harder and was fighting the urge.

Eve wished he would give in to it.

He wouldn’t hurt her.

She sucked again, ripping another husky low moan from him, and his hands shook against her. He wanted more. She wanted it too, couldn’t resist it this time when the taste of him flooded her senses and drove her onwards, towards a more complete connection between them.

She pressed her fangs into his throat and it felt so right that she moaned, couldn’t contain it as it raced up her throat in response to the sensation flowing through her. Was this what he had felt on biting her? An incredible, intoxicating sense of connection and awareness, both intimate and profound, that left her feeling as if she was part of him, and he part of her.

Tor groaned and shuddered, his big body vibrating against hers, drawing her awareness to it and the position they were in, their bodies tangled together. His grip on her waist tightened, becoming fierce and possessive, thrilling her but setting alight to her fear.

Had she hurt him?

She tried to draw back to check and ask, but he shifted one large hand to the back of her head, holding her to his throat, not letting her move an inch.

She drew her fangs from his throat and sucked. Blood burst into her mouth, overwhelming her. Every cell fired in response. Every nerve lit up. It set her aflame and left her burning up, melting as her blood turned to ashes and she felt Tor’s strength flowing into her, his spicy taste sliding down her throat and warming her belly.

She couldn’t handle it.

She was going to overload or short out and lose consciousness. It was too much.

Tor stroked the back of her neck, massaging it, applying pressure that sent more tingles sweeping down her spine and brought her focus to him, pushing the overwhelming new sensations bombarding her to the back of her mind.

She sucked another mouthful of his blood and swallowed it, and he palmed her neck again and moaned. For every pull on his blood she made, she felt as if she was going to drown, but every time it began to overwhelm her, Tor would stroke her neck and bring her back to him. He was keeping her with him and keeping her grounded, stealing her awareness back to him.

That awareness of him, of his powerful body against hers, brought with it a startling realisation.

He was growing hard.

It was turning him on.

Eve immediately pulled back and couldn’t look at him as she asked, “Do you always react like this?”

Just like that, a thousand faceless women paraded through her mind, a slew of beauties that Tor had probably taken blood from like this, or worse, while he was inside them.

She tried to push out of his arms but he clamped his hands around her waist and held her so tightly that she couldn’t move.

She closed her eyes and turned her face to one side, escaping him as best she could when he refused to release her.

“Eve,” he said, a note of warning in his voice but softness too, as if he knew her thoughts and wanted to soothe her.

It only made her feel worse. She cringed, hating that he might have seen through her so easily and witnessed the reason why she couldn’t look him in the eye or even be in the same room as him. She wanted some air.

She needed some space.

She needed to get off him.

Eve slapped at his bare chest and shoved against it, trying to break free. He only tightened his grip, until she felt sure he would shatter her ribcage with the force of it.

“Eve.” He struggled with her but she didn’t relent. She kept pushing, kept ignoring him and his attempts to win her back over. She wouldn’t be just another foolish woman throwing herself at him, letting him have his way with her so he could discard her and move on to the next one.

So he could betray her.

She shouldn’t have bitten him.

She shouldn’t have let him seduce her into doing something she had vowed would never happen.

She wanted to retch.

Eve gagged and Tor’s grip on her loosened, but not enough that she could escape.

“Eve… breathe… just breathe.” His soft, steady voice pleaded her and she felt his emotions, experienced his need to calm her and make her feel better.

She hadn’t even realised she had stopped breathing.

She let out her breath in a rush, surprised she didn’t throw up at the same time.

Her stomach settled again.

“You’re too young not to breathe,” he murmured and she jerked away when he tried to stroke her face.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I never react like this, Eve.
Never
… but I can’t seem to control myself when you’re touching me. I’ve tried to keep my distance… I’ve tried so hard but it’s impossible and I’m tired of fighting it.” He sighed and released her, and she couldn’t bring herself to move, no longer had the energy or the will.

Her eyes crept back to his throat and the twin trails of red tracking down it.

“Eve,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, bordering on hurt and desperate, feelings that echoed within her. “Look at me.”

When she finally convinced her eyes to raise from his neck, his were red again, burning intensely.

“Whatever you have in your head, it’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “I just want you, Eve.”

“You just want my blood,” she countered, bitterness making her words sharp.

He shook his head.

“No.” He took her hand and lowered it to the rock hard bulge in his black jeans. “This is all about you, Eve. Not your blood. You’re so damn beautiful. I want you.”

He held her with his eyes and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t move as her anger faded, melting under the intense heat of his gaze and his heartfelt words that struck a chord in her.

“I’ve never needed anyone as much as I need you.”

E
ve pressed her palms against Tor’s bare chest, leaned in and captured his lips with hers. He responded immediately, his mouth mastering hers, dominant and aggressive, speaking of his passion and need.

Passion and need that existed inside her too, driving her to surrender to them, to give herself over to pleasure and the moment.

She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Tor.

His arms slid around her back, iron bands that caged her against him, thrilling her. She fought for dominance, her lips clashing with his and tongue duelling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair, rising up on her knees. He tipped his head back and slid lower in the chair, bringing the lower half of their bodies into contact. Heat rippled through her, pooling in her belly, lingering there.

Tor grasped her hips and pressed her down against the bulge in his jeans, a moan leaving his lips as the contact between them increased. She couldn’t stop herself from rocking against him, rubbing her aching core against his hard length, seeking pleasure from the delicious friction. A thousand shivers tripped through her, setting every nerve ending alight, filling her with sensation that almost overwhelmed her. Her heightened senses made everything more intense, until she felt certain she would overload this time, would pass out before she even found release.

She couldn’t risk the wait.

She slipped one hand between them and fumbled with his jeans, wrestling with them and growling when she couldn’t get them undone. Tor helped her, a low groan ripping up his throat as he unbuttoned his jeans with one hand and shoved them open. Her hand immediately found his length and she rubbed it from the thick blunt head all the way down the steel-hard shaft. He groaned again, a guttural sound that tore a moan from her in response.

She pulled her top off and freed her breasts, the cool air like bliss on her overheating flesh.

Eve wriggled, trying to find a glimmer of pleasure, a flicker of release from the growing need within her. She grabbed Tor’s hand and pressed it to her core. The second he palmed her through the damp material of her knickers, she trembled and collapsed into him, a fierce fire rushing through her.

It was too much.

She hadn’t realised that everything had become heightened after waking as a vampire, that everything would be affected by her transition, even pleasure.

He palmed her again, the heel of his hand pressing into her clitoris, and she barked out a moan and shuddered against him, clutching his shoulders to anchor herself.

He murmured something in his native tongue against her shoulder and kissed it, working his way back to her mouth. Eve seized him, her lips claiming his, devouring him, a slave to the pleasure overwhelming her, tearing her between continuing and pulling away.

She rocked against him, desperate thrusts that brought more pain than pleasure, her arousal building to startling heights.

“Tor,” Eve whispered, more a moan than his name, a plea to him to do something, anything that would help her through this madness.

She couldn’t take it.

She flexed her muscles, groaning as the simple twitch sent a wave of bliss surging through her.

“Need… you…” she said between kisses and sucked on his lower lip, pulling it hard into her mouth, nipping it with her fangs. “Now.”

He had anchored her when she had bitten him and the pleasure of it had threatened to make her short out. He had to anchor her now in the storm of sensation whirling inside her like a tornado, on the verge of ripping her apart.