Chapter 2 #2
“You stubborn son of a bitch,” he growled, lowering me down until my feet touched the floor.
His fingers didn’t relent, and I marvelled at his strength as he moved me like I was nothing but a rag doll in his grip.
Being manhandled for an alpha was almost as bad as being blood raped, except I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was too damned out of it, my limbs heavy, and my brain shutting down.
There was a hissed curse, but too much noise in my ears to hear him properly.
“Fine, if you won’t look at me, we’ll do this the hard way.
Connor tasked me with your well-being, and I’m not going to let him down because you’re too fucking pig-headed to listen.
” He leaned his body up against mine, supporting me as he fed me small gulps of air until my brain woke up enough to process his nearness.
Warm breath fanned my lips, and a rich and spicy scent flooded my senses as he almost completely released my throat.
“Breathe, Shane. It might not feel like it, but you’re going to be okay.”
I sucked in a desperate breath before he tightened his grip again.
Not to harm me, but to control me. I couldn’t process all the sensations battering me: his muscular physique pressing against mine, his intoxicating scent, the sweetness of the air he allowed me to breathe, and the agony of a vicious hunger in my stomach that fired along my bones and into every cell.
Even the beat of his heart was so loud and consuming, so close that I couldn’t ignore it, or the whoosh of blood in his veins.
Heavy, ancient power pushed against my mind, trying to smother me, control me.
Now that my brain wasn’t so oxygen-starved, it registered that I was immobilised, my body trapped by his, even as he tried to dominate my thoughts and actions.
Motherfucker!
Memories punched through my brain, and all I wanted was to survive. Instinctively, I fought with everything I had, which wasn’t much.
“Stop fighting. I’m trying to save your obstinate arse.”
Lust raged through me and, unbidden, my fangs descended.
No! For shifters, biting and taking another's blood was how we mated. He was messing with my body and mind! He had to be! My eyes flew open. The moment they did, I was ensnared in a swirling garnet gaze. It was as if blood pulsed through the Count’s irises.
There was no pupil, only a red glow. I groaned as another spasm twisted my insides.
“You have to feed, Shane. You’re going into bloodlust. If you don’t, you’ll go insane with need. Eventually, it will kill you.”
I gripped his wrist, indicating I needed air to talk. He released me enough to gasp, but he didn’t completely let go. “Bite. Mating.”
Balthazar cocked his head, and his eyes narrowed before a slight smirk curled his lips.
“You are no longer a full shifter, and it will take more than one bite to claim me. You are a vampire now, and we bite for many reasons: to feed, for pleasure when we fuck, to kill, and you are right, just like shifters, we bite to mate, but that isn’t what will happen between us.
There is more to it than just a bite. Right now, you need to feed.
” He held my gaze with his and tilted his head to one side.
“No. You. Can’t…” I was shocked, almost unable to process what he was offering.
Balthazar Rossi was arguably the most powerful vampire in the world other than the vampire king, and, from what I’d heard, even that was questionable.
And he was offering me his neck—his blood.
Fuck me, the thought of sinking my fangs into that strong column of muscle while he fucked me, sent a wave of hot lust slamming into my already overwhelmed body.
If he hadn’t been holding me up, it would have driven me to my knees.
No matter how weak I was, every part of me responded to that carnal image.
The most rigid erection I’d had in years pushed against my zipper, aching like a motherfucker.
I quickly tried to pull my pelvis away from his, almost groaning with relief when he allowed it.
He really didn’t need to know how much the thought of sinking my teeth into his skin, not to mention this rough treatment, was turning me on.
Shit, my thoughts were a paradox. Such dominant treatment should have turned me off after the abuse I’d suffered, but it really didn’t.
As much as I craved control of my life, it was a relief to give it over to someone who knew what the fuck was happening to me. Because I sure as shit didn’t.
Balthazar slowly fed me air. I accepted it, breathing deeply each time he loosened his grip.
My brain quieted a little, giving me space to think.
No matter if I was part vampire now, biting still meant a bond for me, and from what I’d heard from other shifters, it led to mind-blowing sex with orgasms that would wreck your soul.
I couldn’t do it. It was wrong to use such an act just to feed.
“No, biting is only for my mate,” I managed to rasp.
The Count contemplated me steadily, a slight crease marring the bridge of his nose. Then he nodded. “So be it. But you aren’t dying.”
My eyes widened as two sets of sharp fangs descended into his mouth. I blinked, and when I looked again, there was only one. He snarled, but lifted his other hand. Holding my gaze, he drew the tip of one fang across his wrist. His skin parted in a perfect laceration.
The tantalising, metallic scent of his blood almost drowned out the noise in my head, especially when his spicy scent thickened.
My guts twisted, the need to feed stealing any coherent thoughts.
I bared my teeth and thrashed, desperate to get to that deep red elixir—until I found myself flipped and on my back on the ground.
Once again, the Count immobilised me, his knees and thighs pinning my arms and torso, and one hand threaded in my hair, holding my head back until my jaw had no choice but to open.
No matter how desperately I fought to get to his blood, he held me still. He was too strong. Too dominant.
Without speaking, he pumped his fist, holding his bleeding wrist above my open mouth.
A taste like no other exploded across my tongue, as addictive and exotic as his scent.
Greedily, I swallowed, revelling in the rush of power that punched through me.
A frustrated bellow released from deep in my chest when he pulled his wrist away.
“Slowly. Don’t worry, you will get what you need, but too much of my blood too quickly will kill you.” His intense eyes held mine, his hand tightening in my hair and keeping me anchored.
I wasn’t looking away, regardless of my vulnerable position. The fucker was enjoying having me at his mercy a little too much. The Count’s eyes glowed brighter, and his grip tightened everywhere. The feel of his steel thighs locking me down didn’t disgust me; it only turned me on more.
“You should look away, young one.” His words were a warning, but his voice held a husky quality that vibrated through my bones, pooling right in my balls.
I groaned, unable to comply. I had no idea why, only that I didn’t want to lose that connection to him, even though I detested the wanker.
So fuck it, I continued holding his gaze.
He cocked his head and regarded me steadily. He could kill me easily. But he hadn’t healed his wrist…
“More.”
A smirk curled his lips, baring dual fangs.
I knew it! I hadn’t imagined them.
“My pleasure. And I mean that.” He moved his wrist forward, then quickly pulled it back as I opened my mouth. “But, be careful what you demand from me, young one. What I give, I can easily take away. Now drop your gaze.”
I snarled. Balthazar just waited patiently until hunger twisted my insides again.
I had no fucking choice, and he knew it.
Besides, no one else was here to witness my downfall.
I lowered my eyes to the dip of his throat, right above his collarbone, where those beautiful tattoos curled up and into his hair.
Nothing. Just silence.
My whole body tensed, ready to fight him again.
I opened my mouth to demand he get off me, only to find his blood already trickling onto my lips and tongue.
I swallowed, moaning. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.
I swallowed and swallowed, greedy for it—until pain burned through every damn cell in my body.
Grinding my teeth didn’t help me contain it. I screamed.
The Count pulled his wrist away, watching as I twisted and writhed under his steely thighs.
I lost all sense of time, but eventually the agony was replaced by a feeling of euphoria—and strength.
The Count regarded me steadily, and though he appeared relaxed, his thighs held me tightly in place as if he was waiting.
A violent wave of lust exploded through my body, and my already hard cock and aching balls tightened to painful proportions.
Hissing, I shifted my lower half, loving the feel of his weight on top of me and wanting it where I could grind against him.
I didn’t know why my body was reacting so brutally to his nearness, but I didn't want him to think I was fighting him, so with every bit of self-control I possessed, I forced my body to still, only my chest heaving and my jaw clenching.
I hated that he was right. I craved his blood already, and, instinctively, I knew it would be my salvation. For a vampire as old as him, giving me his blood clearly didn’t mean anything life-changing. It didn’t mean I was his, and it sure as shit didn’t mean he was mine.