Chapter 9 #2
“I mostly drink from animals.” I’m not sure what I expected, but I hate his answer. I try not to cringe. “Mammals are the closest to humans, genetically speaking, but I do have a donor. She’s provided for me for many years now.”
“What’s a donor?” I ask, elated that there’s another option for him.
“Her name is Brenda, and she does exactly what it sounds like: she donates her blood.”
Brenda; what a bitchy-sounding name. “So you drink from her, what? Once a week?”
“I alternate between her blood and a different animal every four to five days.” He shrugs. “I tend to stretch it more than I should.”
I sit up. “That often? Humans don’t replenish from blood loss that quickly. How is she still alive?”
“We are bonded.” He strokes his chin as he speaks, running his fingers down the length of his throat. “Besides a mate, donors are the only ones who can not be harmed by the amount of blood they provide. It’s a magical connection between a vampire and their donor.”
I hate that he relies on animal blood to get by, but I also don’t wish for him to hurt anyone. “How does one become a donor?”
He eyes me suspiciously. “One drop of my blood connects them to me.” Anticipating my next question, he adds, “And to sever that bond, all they have to do is speak it aloud.”
“Freaky,” I mutter.
His gray eyes scan the length of my body, from my exposed shoulders to the tips of my toes. “Do you wish to continue your lesson on vampire lore, or are you here to fulfill our agreement?”
My stomach flutters. “The second one.” I’m here for a reason, but now that I know more about his way of life, I can’t stop thinking about it. Everything about this man is like an earworm, rotting my brain. “Can I ask you one more thing?”
He actually rolls his eyes. “If you must.”
I choose to ignore his tone. “If you had enough blood from a donor, would you still need to supplement with animal blood?” I clear my throat. “Like, let’s say, for argument sake, you had two donors.”
“The bond doesn’t work like that,” he states. “Vampires may have one donor or one mate. The donors can change, but the latter…it’s forever. A mate’s blood is the only blood that will never have an expiration date. Yet another mysterious power from a magical bond.”
That flutter in my belly has moved to my head. Talk of mates and donors has me flushed again, despite having sobered from the wine. I wiggle my toes in my shoes just to do something with all of this nervous energy.
I know about werewolf mates, thanks to Raegan and Jamie, but I wonder if they are at all similar to vampires. I wasn’t aware vampires could have mates, but I doubt they can mate with anyone but their own kind given how slowly they age.
I still have a lot of questions, but I force my curiosity back and reel in my hormones to the front of my mind.
Aidan is still looking at me with those piercing gray eyes of his.
He’s yet to put on a shirt. Is it because he knows the inevitability of it coming off?
His smooth, pale skin looks buttery soft.
He’s got a broad chest and long torso, lithe but muscular, not that different from a swimmer’s body.
The silence between us lingers heavily in the air for several seconds as we drink each other in. I can feel his eyes roaming over my skin, taking in every dip and curve, no doubt remembering the night we shared.
I slowly inch off the couch and move to stand directly in front of him.
His eyes follow my every move as I try to appear seductive.
He stands up, meeting me toe to toe, and takes a stray lock of my hair that’s fallen from my high bun and curls it around his index finger.
He then slips the red bandana I’ve been using as a headband from my hair and tosses it onto the couch.
When he pulls out the elastic holding my hair, it falls loose, tumbling across my shoulders.
“I want your hair down,” he notes with a tilt of his head, fingers running through the strands, and I don’t mind one bit.
I want him to command me. As long as we are in this bubble, where our only objective is pleasure, he can tell me to do whatever he wants, and I’ll listen.
Not being the one in control is liberating. I barely know him, but I know I can relax with him at the wheel—something in my very marrow tells me so.
He traces a finger along my shoulder and down my arm, tugging at the fabric of my sweatshirt. “I want this off.”
I remove it, leaving just my cropped cami beneath, having forgotten to put on a bra. He plucks the strap of my tank top, and it pops against my skin with a surprisingly pleasurable sting.
Aidan’s large hand slides down my rib cage and slips beneath the fabric. He journeys back up my torso, over my stomach. My breath hitches just as his thumb grazes the underside of my breast, then he cups me fully. He rubs slow circles over my peaked nipple.
My body seems to be enjoying the slow, intimate focus he’s giving me, but my brain is not. It’s too intimate, and I feel extremely exposed.
Aidan takes a seat on the couch.
“If you’re looking for a lap dance,” I say mockingly, “I’m not coordinated enough to do that.”
He laughs quietly, and the sound restores my confidence. His arms are spread wide along the back of the couch, his legs spread. He looks perfectly at ease as he continues to take me in with those cold, piercing gray eyes.
It feels like he has the power to x-ray my body and look straight to my bones.
Aidan nods to my jeans, indicating I should remove them next, so I do.
They’re my best pair, and I’m glad I made the last second decision to grab them off the floor of my bedroom.
I take as much time as my fumbling fingers will allow.
It’s not graceful, but I extricate my legs from the fabric with little difficulty.
I’m left in just a pair of red panties, something I didn’t even plan.
Aidan licks his lips at the sight of them. His pants are slung low on his hips, and with the buttons undone, I have a clear view of how quickly his erection has been growing.
As he continues to study me, I wonder if there’s a visible wet spot on my panties. The way he was touching me caused a surge of slick heat to pool there. It feels sticky, and I’m almost certain he can smell me.
He scoots to the edge of the couch, reaching for my ass and yanking me closer.
My pussy is flush with his face as he presses his forehead against my stomach.
He claws his fingers into the band of my underwear and slides them down my thighs and over my knees where they land in a pile at my ankles.
I step out of them awkwardly, all while Aidan’s forehead remains pinned to my abdomen.
I feel him hum against my skin as he inhales deeply. “You smell sublime.”