Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Killien
Ican’t seem to relax, not even as we arrive at Owen’s home.
It’s not very far from Jacob’s, just a five-minute drive, in a nice neighborhood.
It’s a small one-story house that doesn’t stand out at all.
Nothing about it screams vampire den. The white siding looks new, or at least as if it was cleaned recently, just like the perfectly manicured front yard and smooth concrete driveway.
The place is much fancier inside than the exterior.
The shiny white tiles of the flooring contrast with the red brick on the accent wall that houses a fireplace.
There’s a fancy burnt orange sofa in the middle of the room, paired with dark blue velvety pillows.
The rest of the living and dining room follow the same scheme; all mid-century furnishings, warm wood, and blue and orange accents.
Owen chuckles as he closes the door behind him. “Surprised much?”
“I wasn’t expecting your house to be so . . . stylish.”
“Yeah, I didn’t pick any of this. It came with the house.” He shrugs as he moves towards the sofa, his blonde hair half-covering his green eyes.
I follow him, taking in my surroundings as my heart beats way too fast for my liking.
The silence is loud, only interrupted by our steps and a slight squeak of the sofa when Owen sits.
I feel uneasy, as if there’s something off that I can’t quite figure out.
When I sit beside him, he places a hand on my knee and slowly caresses his way up my thigh.
His touch makes me shiver, and not precisely in a good way.
This is nothing like my encounters with Caleb. There’s no connection between me and the man whose eyes are slowly running up and down my body. I don’t feel anything, really. Sure, he’s attractive, but do I actually desire him?
“Killien . . .” The way he says my name makes me bristle. “Are you okay? You look a bit tense.”
I avoid meeting his gaze. He stares at me hungrily, and it makes me uncomfortable for some reason.
I should be okay with it. I came here for this, didn’t I?
To keep Damien off my mind, and to feed.
It’s been eight days since I drank from Jacob.
Although vampire blood kept me sated for the whole week, I’m starting to feel the hunger creep up.
My mouth waters as I remember the taste of Jacob’s blood.
“Let’s start with something else,” he says, leaning just a bit closer to me. “Tell me a bit about you. What do you do for a living?”
Finally, my eyes meet his. He offers me a kind smile, but it doesn’t seem fully honest.
“Um—” I clear my voice and straighten my back, settling deeper against the soft, velvety pillows. “Nothing, really. I stopped working when Ledger turned us, like six months ago. We’ve been living off what our victims leave behind, selling their belongings and whatnot, just like he taught us.”
Owen chuckles. “That’s great news.”
“What about you?” I ask, a bit thrown off by his last words, but more curious to get something out of him. It seems like no one knows much about Owen. Maybe I can get him to talk.
“Ah, my job is very boring. I pick up and deliver things. It pays well, though.” He shrugs.
There’s an awkward silence after his vague answer.
I want to ask more, but worry that I’ll be too pushy and upset him or something.
For a moment, I think about texting Damien.
Even if it’s just to feel him close, because he can soothe me like nothing else.
But I force myself not to. I need to feed, so I have to push through the discomfort.
In all honesty, I’ve never been precisely shy, even if I’m not a talker and lean more towards being introverted than extroverted. The confidence I had when I met Caleb last week is nowhere to be found today. I feel Owen’s gaze examining my face, and I have to force myself not to turn away.
“Are you hungry, Killien?” he asks, and his voice is almost a purr.
“Honestly, yes,” I chuckle, already feeling the pull of his blood. I’m curious to taste him, despite the strange uneasy feeling in my gut.
Before I can do anything, Owen’s lips are on mine.
The kiss is slow and soft at first. Shy, even.
I let him, though I don’t know why I’m kissing him back.
It’s nothing like what I do with Caleb; I can’t easily picture Damien in this case.
Somehow, it feels like a completely different experience. And I’m not sure I like it.
Owen deepens the kiss, his fingers tickling the side of my neck.
My skin lights up under the warmth of his hands, sending a shiver down my spine.
His thumb massages over my vein, as if it’s calling for my blood.
And it responds to him, just like it did when Caleb nibbled on my neck.
When Owen pulls back, I’m almost breathless and hungry.
“You’re such a good kisser . . .” he whispers. “And hot as hell too. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
What? Fuck me?
Oh, no . . .
My mind goes blank for a second, almost like someone switched off my brain.
My blood runs cold as I stare into his eyes.
That’s something I never really thought about.
I enjoy being with other men, but it’s all so new.
I can’t imagine bottoming, especially not with him.
Something must happen to my face, because Owen’s expression changes too.
He raises an eyebrow at me and leans forward.
His weight shifts on the sofa, making it creak just a little bit.
“You’ve never . . .?” he asks. I shake my head, startled. “Oh, okay. I wasn’t expecting that.”
I blink a few times, unable to speak even when he smiles and lets out a soft chuckle. In all honesty, I don’t even know if I want sex with him. I need his blood, and kissing him isn’t horrible, but I’m not feeling the need to take it further.
“So, was this your first time kissing another man?” He places his hand on top of mine, as if he’s trying to reassure me.
“Yeah,” I lie, hoping that it will spare me from whatever he was planning for tonight.
“Alright, that’s okay. We’ll take it slow, see what you like.”
I almost sigh in relief, which seems to amuse him since he laughs again. His hand reaches for the back of my neck and pulls me in for another kiss. I slide further into the pillows as Owen’s weight rests partially on top of me.
This time, the kiss is a bit more aggressive, but the sweet taste of his mouth has me almost groaning.
The thirst for his blood creates a pulsing sensation in my veins.
Somehow very different to what I felt when I drank from Jacob, which included a whole lot of sexual desire. This definitely doesn’t.
Owen’s lips make their way down towards my neck, kissing and biting my skin softly.
I hiss, my hands climbing up his shoulders and reaching for his neck too.
I imitate what he did to me, massaging the soft skin right over his pulse.
He must like that, because he moans and bites harder on my neck, but his fangs aren’t extended yet.
“You learn quickly.” His breath is ticklish against my skin, making me laugh.
His tongue runs up and down my pulsing vein until the throbbing inside my body becomes unbearable.
Much like the anticipation of foreplay, but not quite.
It’s a new feeling that I wasn’t expecting.
I thought this would be like the last time, but it’s not at all.
Is it because I actually feel something for Jacob?
That’s almost as bad as my feelings for Damien, since they’re both out of my reach.
I flinch when Owen’s fangs pierce my skin, since I was distracted.
The pain is fleeting, though, and quickly replaced by a very pleasurable sensation.
My heart is forced to beat at the rhythm of Owen’s sucking motion.
I throw my head back onto the sofa and basically melt.
A long sigh escapes me as he licks my skin.
Whatever this feeling is, I don’t want it to end.
I surrender to him, closing my eyes and feeling my blood rush towards him, as if it wanted to do so of its own volition.
Owen hums into my veins, producing a vibration inside me that has me shaking.
My eyes open and my fingers dig into the back of his head.
It feels really good, although it’s not sexual at all. Very weird, somehow.
After just a few more seconds, Owen’s tongue runs over the small wounds on my neck a few times before he pulls back.
A single drop of blood trickles down his chin, but he catches it with his thumb.
With a wicked smile, he brings that finger to his lips and sucks on it.
His golden skin seems to glow under the warm light of the minimalistic chandelier above us.
“You taste just as good as you look, Killien,” he purrs. “So freaking delicious.”
Heat rises up to my cheeks and ears as I chuckle, not sure what to say to that. But before I can think of something, he’s kissing me again. I can taste myself on his tongue, my own blood sending an electric shock down my spine that has my fangs extending right away.
“Drink from me,” he whispers against my lips.
I don’t need to be told twice, apparently.
I’m quickly searching for his pulse on the side of his neck.
He throws his head back, resting against the sofa and letting me hover over him.
My fangs dig into his skin delicately, getting a loud, deep moan from him in response.
His blood tastes good: salty but with a subtle fruity undertone.
Owen’s hand squeezes my waist as he pulls me closer, causing me to lose balance and collapse on top of him.
Maybe I should protest, but I’m too far gone to mind the way he grinds his erection against my thigh.
I don’t want it, but I also can’t be bothered to stop him.
As his blood slides down my throat, my entire body seems to light up in a frenzy.
My heart beats too fast, my veins throbbing with the need to be filled.
I like his taste, although it’s nothing like Jacob’s blood.
It’s just not as hot, or sweet, and my dick is not getting engaged in what’s happening.
The rest of my body, though, is on fire. I’m overwhelmed by the burning, ticklish sensation of his blood penetrating every single cell of my body. My skin seems to get warmer as I groan into his veins, sucking harder and harder until I feel like I can’t take any more.
Owen is moaning loudly against my ear, his breath erratic, his hips desperately reaching out for friction against me. It gives me a strange, uncomfortable feeling. I want to ask him to stop, but as soon as I pull back, he does so on his own.
“Fuck—” he whispers, staring at me through hooded eyes while I sit back beside him.
Once more, my cheeks burn as they turn red.
I can’t say that he’s not hot. His golden hair all tousled, green eyes flickering alight for a fraction of a second.
He’s the perfect image of an attractive man, I suppose.
Especially now, when he’s all sprawled on the sofa, panting and obviously hard.
I, however, feel nothing in that department.
Not even a twitch. I get hard so easily for Damien, and even for Jacob, but I can’t seem to do so now.
I’m really, seriously, fucked-up . . .
There’s a strange aftertaste in my mouth, something sickly sweet, maybe even rotten. But I ignore it, forcing a smile for Owen, who’s still staring at me like he wants to eat me alive—or fuck me senseless. I don’t know which option is worse.
His eyes slowly travel down my body and settle on my crotch, where they stay for a few seconds. “Hm . . . You’re not into me, are you?”
For whatever reason, his words make me feel guilty. “I think I’m just nervous,” I say, forcing another smile. “It’s all so new to me . . .”
Owen smiles back and pats my shoulder, sitting up and letting out a long sigh. “Yeah, that could be it. Let’s give it time, shall we?”
I nod, but deep down I know that I’m never going to want him that way. Something about me must be wrong, because I only seem to want the people who don’t want me back.
Yeah, I’m definitely fucked.