Verena #2
His warm brown eyes meet mine, and he flashes a dazzling smile that rivals the last glow of the afternoon sunlight pouring into the stable.
Holy smokes. He's a total fucking heartthrob.
A very distracted heartthrob—which the drunk takes advantage of a split second later, when a meaty fist connects with the knight's sharp jawbone.
I flinch at the violent impact, but this clearly is not this knight's first rodeo.
He pulls off one of his gauntlets and slams his own fist into the drunk man, sending him stumbling.
Soon, it's a good-old-fashioned brawl between the two, with pieces of armor dropping now and then as the knight continues to shuck off his iron.
The agile, sexy knight ducks another blow, lands one of his own, and calls out, "So what do you think, She of Ruby Tresses? Impressed yet?"
"Braggart," Eris grumbles from the discarded helmet nearby. "I hope he gets humbled."
"The jury is still out," I call back to the knight, flinching again when the big drunk guy tackles him.
He's not down for long, but the next time Hiccuburp swings his fist, it connects with the knight's mouth, splitting his lip. The knight wipes blood off his face, still looking like he's having a damn good time—
But then the scent of it hits me.
Like warm vanilla and honey, with a touch of cinnamon.
Holy fuck, it smells good.
My throat constricts violently. I'm suddenly gripping the nearest stable stall wall, my heart hammering hard inside my chest.
I can't make myself look away from the red near the knight's mouth as he finally grips the big man by his shoulders, shoving his upper half into a nearby watering trough. The drunk is clearly beaten when he breaks free of the sloshing water. Sputtering and coughing, he stumbles out of the stable.
The knight calls something after him, but I'm still not thinking clearly enough to catch what it is.
"Verena?" Eris asks with concern, still watching from the helmet.
The knight turns back around to smile at me, wiping more blood from the small cut near his lip.
My gaze follows the red that just transferred onto his hand.
My teeth ache, this ravenous thirst pounding inside my skull.
I'm so thirsty, it hurts.
Get a grip. This guy doesn't deserve this. He's a person, not a meal.
While I'm fighting for my life over here, the knight is chipper as hell as he walks back toward me. A horse whinnies as he passes, and he spares it a glance.
He stops in front of me, sliding a chainmail collar off his neck and dropping it to join the rest of the armor. Now he stands in trousers, boots, gloves, and a sleeveless white linen shirt that shows off delicious tanned muscles.
He flashes another bright smile. "Come now, Ruby, have some mercy and be a smidge impressed. How many men do you know who would undress for you and fend off foes at the same time?"
I don't mean to do it. Really, I don't.
But the desperation to taste this scent sinks its teeth into me so ruthlessly that suddenly, I'm leaning up to press my mouth against the red stain near his upper lip.
His flavor hits me so hard, I barely hold back a moan.
God, he tastes good. The warm vanilla, the cinnamon, the sweet honey chaser…
It's heavenly.
His soft inhale is followed quickly by one of his gloved hands cupping my jaw, his other arm pulling me tightly against his warm body.
And just like that, I'm kissing a knight.
The flavor of his blood makes my body hum with anticipation. His mouth coaxes mine, his tongue teasing against the seam of my lips until I let him in to deepen the kiss.
When he groans and tugs gently so I follow his steps backward, I'm way too lost to this fucking amazing kiss to question it—until, suddenly, I'm falling forward.
It's a short fall, and I realize he's now sitting in a pile of fresh stray, still making out with me as I lie half on top of him, our chests rising and falling against one another.
All this kissing is making me dizzy and way too fucking excited, but so is his blood. It tastes too good to think straight, but when I realize I'm T-minus four seconds away from biting his lip to try to get more, I pull back to catch my breath.
He fights for his own air, watching me with something like fascination in those sparkling, warm brown eyes.
That smile curls his lips again.
"Well, then. If you're impressed enough to thank me with a kiss like that, despite the blood, then I'll just have to tussle with every drunken scoundrel in Aurefeld."
A breathless laugh escapes me. "Tempting, but it was really the whole stripping-out-of-armor bit that did it for me."
He laughs, but when his gaze drifts to my lips, a gentle furrow appears between his brows. Removing one of his gloves, he tenderly touches the place I bit my lower lip. I'd almost forgotten about it.
"Who did this to you?" His expression is tender, unlike his next words. "Whoever it was, I'll skewer his head on a pike."
Why is every hot guy in this world so violently unhinged, out of the blue?
I start to shake my head and explain, but my attention moves back to the little cut near his lip.
I don't mean to press my lips to it again. I really, really don't.
But I do, and at once, we're kissing again.
Somewhere nearby, Eris muses, "Ah, I see. His blood must be like Wulf's. I wonder why some blood is that much more tempting for you."
The knight's hands flex against me before dragging slowly up my back. They tangle in my hair so he can tilt my head better. I notice he's now being careful with the spot where my mouth is injured.
"Perhaps you should bite him to get some blood in your system before the masquerade tomorrow night.
I'm sure he'd enjoy the effects of your feeding—he seems the reckless sort, after all.
Plus, he doesn't seem to realize you're Reinhilde, so if you do feed on him, your hidden identity should grant you further protection. "
Is Eris insane? I'm not feeding on this guy. He's nice, chivalrous, a fantastic kisser…
Tastes like a honeyed vanilla dessert.
I'm losing the fight against my better nature as I practically straddle the knight, nipping his lower lip—not enough to draw blood, but enough that I can feel the thick, rock-hard bulge in his pants twitch.
At the same time, though, he tenses beneath me.
"Fuck, sorry," I say, pulling back. "I'm getting carried away."
"No—I was just surprised how much I like it," he murmurs, sitting up to kiss me again. "Bite me as much as you want."