18. Rina #2
I stood outside two double doors on the third floor.
The vampire had told me to come if I needed anything—but what about what he needed?
Still, I knew exactly what it meant to come to his room.
I wasn’t sure I could give him my blood again without something happening.
Why was I denying myself? It was clear there was a fire between us, an attraction that burned hot.
Before I could think better of it, I opened the door. His spicy scent washed over me, the entire room smelling of him, and I took a deep inhale, wishing I could bottle it. Gods, he smelled good.
“Wow. I’m surprised there’s not a coffin in here,” I joked, finding him with his back propped against an enormous carved black headboard. He’d told me they didn’t sleep in them, but I wasn’t sure I believed him until now.
“What are you doing here?” Ezra asked, pulling a pair of glasses off his face, a book perched in his lap. And holy fuck, seeing a blond man in spectacles should not make me ache between my thighs. I eyed his bare chest, worrying my lip between my teeth.
I wrapped the flowing red robe I’d found in my closet deeper around me. “You need blood.”
He set the book on his nightstand, eyeing me skeptically. “I’ll survive.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Will you? Because the last time you didn’t drink, I remember a different story.”
“That happens rarely. The sun—”
“You still drove for two days straight after you fed last. And you’re pale again.” I couldn’t worry about myself—or the consequences it might have for our bond, for the mark on my arm—when he was suffering.
He grunted. “You don’t have to do this for me. I’m not worth it.”
I took a few steps toward the bed, the train of the robe flowing behind me. In it, I felt magical—sexy, even. Empowered to get what I wanted. And what I wanted, in that moment, was him.
“I’m not doing it for you,” I answered, letting the fabric fall from my shoulders to ripple onto the floor.
“I’m doing it for me.” I stood in front of him, wearing the skimpiest nightgown I owned—because somehow, I’d packed it with all of my matching bra and panty sets, even though I hadn’t dreamed of needing lingerie.
His eyes grew dark as his fists clutched the sheets. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, my sweet belladonna.”
“On the contrary, vampire. I think I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
He was off the bed in a flash, hand wrapped around my throat before I could even blink. Ezra snarled, though the action didn’t incite any fear in me.
No, it just made me wet.
We’d been building to this moment for weeks, ever since I’d first seen him in the bar. I tipped my head back, giving him full access to my throat.
“Fuck.” Ezra inhaled deeply, like he was taking a deep drag of my scent. “You smell so fucking good.” His free hand slid up my thigh, toying with the hem of my tiny dress. “You hate how much you want this,” Ezra growled in my ear. “Want me.”
“Yes,” I groaned. I did. I hated it. Hated my body’s reaction to him, how turned on I was by simply being around him. It probably had something to do with this damn bond that pulsed between us, but at the moment, I didn’t care.
His hand trailed higher. “No panties,” he muttered, voice so low it felt like a scrape against my skin, hardening my nipples in an instant.
“If I touch you right now, am I going to find you wet for me?” I groaned again as his fingers brushed over where I wanted him most, but I didn’t respond.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this since that night in the car. ”
“I know,” I gasped as his finger parted my folds, barely pressing against my entrance. Neither had I.
His eyes were black—pupils dilated fully with need. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, Sabrina. No one’s ever made me come in my pants before.”
My eyes fluttered shut as he petted me softly, avoiding my clit. But I wouldn’t beg. That wasn’t what this was.
Ezra pushed a finger inside me—and then another, letting out a groan. “Just as I thought. Fucking soaked.” He nipped at my ear with his fangs, and I couldn’t hold back a moan as he plunged those fingers in and out of me.
“Yes,” I cried, legs unsteady as he fucked me with his fingers, already so full just from two.
He stopped, pulling them out of me, denying me the orgasm I so desperately needed. One I’d been chasing for days, ever since I’d been in his lap. The only privacy I’d had was the shower, and despite trying, I hadn’t been able to come.
“What?” he taunted, a smirk covering his lips.
I narrowed my eyes. “Asshole.”
Ezra’s hands slid into my hair, tugging on it until he forced my gaze up to his. “That’s right, witch. Never forget what I am to you.”
His lips dipped down towards my mouth—like he was going to take it with his—and I placed my finger over them. “No kissing.”
“What?” His teeth nipped at my finger, still resting against his mouth.
“This isn’t about romance or love. It’s just sex. We’re just using each other. You’re giving me orgasms, and I’m giving you blood. It’s an even trade. No complications—no feelings.” Just some good ol’ fashioned hate sex to get it out of our systems.
Ezra tugged harder on my hair. “So we’re doing this then? Fucking?”
I almost flinched at the crude word, so unexpected, but it was just what I needed. This was an arrangement. “Yes.”
He toyed with my nightgown strap, like he wanted to cut it off with his claws. Slowly, his lips found my ear, and he purred, “Then get on the bed, my sweet.”
I closed my eyes as his fangs dragged down my neck, pausing for a heartbeat at the soft spot there. Like he was contemplating biting me there, where I had no recourse and no control. Placing my open palm against his chest, I pushed him back.
If he thought I was going to obey him willingly, he had another thing coming.