32. Chapter 32
32
A quick scan of the dark sitting room told me it was empty. I looked back at Gavin, still standing in the hallway.
“Go on,” he whispered, looking toward the doorway to the bedroom.
I eased the door shut and quietly crossed the room, my fingers gripping the silky fabric of the skirt of my dressing gown. Ash’s personal space was filled with warm oak and leather furnishings, and far more bookcases than Gavin’s sitting room. Enough books lined the walls to make this feel more like a small library than anything else, and I smiled to myself, pleasantly surprised by this side of the stoic warrior.
I stopped in the doorway to the bedroom. Ash sat at the foot of a bed that was larger even than a standard king. His head was drooped, his long, loose blond hair hanging to shield his face from view, portions turned reddish-pink from blood. He still wore the same dark jeans and fitted T-shirt from earlier, dried blood smeared on the exposed skin of his arms, neck, and face. A small, standing picture frame lay face down beside him on the comforter.
“Ash?” I said, my voice little more than a whisper.
His head shot up, and his ice-blue eyes locked on me. His features were guarded, his stare curious but wary.
My hands fisted in my robe. I stretched out my fingers, forcing myself to let go, and stood a little straighter. “I can sense Thane,” I told him, my voice steadier than I felt. I took a single step into the bedroom. “I want to help go after him, but . . .” My heart hammered, my voice catching in my throat. “I made a deal with Gavin. He wants me to be as strong as possible before leaving the safety of this place to look for Thane, so I need to bind another immortal.” I paused and cleared my throat. “He, ah . . . Well, he wants that immortal to be you.”
Ash was quiet for a long time. “What do you want?” he finally asked.
I opened my mouth, then shut it without responding. I hadn’t expected him to be concerned about what I wanted, not when Thane was in danger. Not when nobody else ever asked me about my desires. Not Gavin. Not Bastian. Not Javier. Not even Wes, what felt like a thousand years ago.
“I don’t know,” I finally admitted, shrugging and letting my shoulders slump. My attention drifted down to the floor, lingering on the lines of a beautiful, faded Persian rug. “I don’t know anyone else.” My words were honest, if not exactly confidence-inspiring. “At least, not any other immortals.”
I felt tongue-tied by the simple courtesy of Ash’s question. This relative stranger. This hulking warrior. This thoughtful soul. No wonder Thane had been with him for so long.
“You, I think,” I said, amending my answer as I raised my eyes to lock with his. “You and Thane. You have something special, and I would be honored to be a part of that, however small, if you would let me. You don’t have to— we don’t have to, um, you know,” I rambled, my cheeks flaming. “It can just be blood, if you prefer.”
Ash stared at me for a long moment, weighing my words. I held my breath, awaiting his rejection.
Between one heartbeat and the next, something within him changed. He seemed to come back to life, right before my eyes, his head rising, his spine straightening, and his shoulders falling back. Here was the warrior who had guarded the loft, who had dragged me to safety through the portal.
Ash stood and approached me, his footfalls heavy on the creaking hardwood floor. The closer he drew, the smaller I felt. He raised his hand to his mouth and unceremoniously bit into the meaty heel of his hand, then stopped well within arm’s reach in front of me and offered me his bleeding hand.
My mouth watered as I inhaled the scent of him, spicy like Gavin and Thane, but with purer, sweeter notes. I gripped his thick wrist with both hands and licked my lips, already anticipating how he would taste. I reminded myself that this communion was blood only, but my groin pulsed in anticipation regardless.
I pressed my lips to the heel of Ash’s palm and ran my tongue over the rapidly healing wound. The flavor of his blood exploded across my tastebuds, like cinnamon toast with a dash of salt added to the cinnamon and sugar mixture. I groaned and sucked on the wound, pulling what little fresh blood I could get before Ash healed completely.
But his skin did heal, and when there was no more blood to be had without biting down and creating fresh cuts, I unsealed my lips from Ash’s palm and released his wrist. Breathing hard, I licked my lips, making sure I got every last drop or smear.
My pulse throbbed insistently between my legs, and I squeezed my thighs together, silently chanting, “Blood only. Blood only. Blood only.”
Before I could fully shake the haze of lust created by tasting immortal blood, Ash moved behind me and wrapped one burly arm around my ribcage, leaving my arms free. I suppressed a moan, my heart suddenly racing at having his big, powerful body pressed against the back of mine.
He swept my hair out of the way and angled my head to one side, baring my neck to him. As his other arm joined the first around me, his embrace grew tighter, lifting me onto my toes. Bowing his head, he grazed his teeth over the crook of my neck, making my pulse jump.
My hands settled on his muscular forearms, gripping tight as my knees threatened to give out from just that teasing touch of his teeth.
“I’ve got you,” he breathed. And then he bit down, breaking the skin with a sharp sting and releasing my blood.
A sense of euphoria washed away the pain, leaving me gasping with pleasure. Power coiled within me, ecstasy mounting to the intense heights I had only experienced twice before, when I bound first Gavin, then Bastian. My vision glazed over with silver, and my back arched. The magic exploded out of me in a wash of moonlight, and waves of the purest, deepest pleasure rocked through me.
My knees gave out, but Ash held me tight against him as he languidly cleaned my bite wound with his tongue. His hard erection jutted into my backside, and I fought the urge to rub myself against him. The muted sting from his bite returned as my pleasure abated, quickly overtaken by the itch of healing. Ash must have bitten his lip to heal my wound.
Slowly, Ash relaxed his hold on me until my legs carried the brunt of my weight once more.
I took a step away from him on shaky legs, breaking free of his loose hold, and turned to face him. “Thank you,” I said, a little breathless.
Desire raged through my veins, making me feel overheated and hypersensitive. The silk robe suddenly felt like itchy wool, and I wanted it off my skin.
Blood only , I reminded myself. But, gods, Ash was a stunning creature. A gentle giant, with a touch that countered his appearance so extremely that I wondered, again, what it would be like to be with him.
I cleared my throat, barely keeping my rampant lust from taking over, and stared down at the floor. If I looked at him, I would lose control. I stepped to the side to head for the door. “I should go.”
Ash’s arm shot out, and he caught my wrist. “Don’t. Don’t go.”
I looked at his hand, my chest heaving with each breath.
“Unless you want to.” Ash added roughly.
I followed the line of his muscular arm, that pale skin glowing with silver sigils, up to his face and took in his earnest, open expression. The heat in his gaze turned his irises a vibrant aquamarine. Desire throbbed deep inside me, aching for this vampire, not another.
I shook my head.