Chapter 8

chapter 8

Maeve

I didn’t realize how much the crew of the Audacity shielded me until there’s no one around except Lizzie. No one to distract me from her viciously good looks. No one to dampen her intense energy. She’s so quiet. On a crowded ship, it was easy to convince myself that I wasn’t aware of her presence. It wasn’t true, but I had the comforting lie.

Within the first twelve hours on the tiny boat, I’m jumping every time she shifts. I try to quell the reaction, but it’s impossible. Her presence is just so intense, even when she’s just sitting there. And it just gets worse as the hours tick by. I try to distract myself with focusing on sailing, but things are going smoothly. The wind sends us skimming along the surface of the waves. The sun is bright and warm, a pleasant weight against my skin. The world sprawls out before the boat, rife with possibilities. If I was by myself, I might even be enjoying the experience.

Except that’s not the truth, is it? Not with the ache in my chest and the knowledge that I’m running out of time.

Whenever despair threatens to take hold, I call on the memory of Lizzie’s fingers digging into my chin. It should infuriate me that she touched me so harshly without permission, but the truth is that she grounded me when I needed it the most. The memory continues to do so, not fading in the least as the hours tick on.

By the second night, I’m going out of my skin wondering when she’ll need to feed. I’ve seen what that looks like, or at least the aftermath. Poet certainly seemed pleased with the results. How will it feel to have her teeth pierce my skin, her mouth draw the very blood from my body? The question drives me from sleep over and over again. I’ve never been particularly careless when it comes to choosing bed partners. There were a few in Viedna as I reached adulthood, exploration and experimentation that faded to friendship over time. I’ve indulged with sailors a handful of times, but the warnings of my grandmother and mother played too heavily in my mind to ever fully let go. We might not be actively hunted for our pelts in current times, but the community in Viedna has a long memory, and the fear that we’ll go back to the bad old days lingers. So I was careful?.?.?. until Bronagh.

And look how that turned out.

“Maeve.”

I startle and the rudder slips from my grasp. It’s just as well. We have the wind guiding us in the direction we need to go, so I’m mostly hanging on to it to keep my hands busy. But without that to focus on, there’s only Lizzie. She sits on the bench across from me, her elbows propped on her knees, her posture perfectly relaxed. The intensity of her gaze gives lie to that relaxation, though. She never truly unwinds.

I’m slightly ashamed that I notice at all. “What?”

“You said three days. We’re on day three and I don’t see land in sight.”

I might have slightly underestimated the time it will take to get to Khollu. I was picked up only a day off the coast of Viedna last time, so I hadn’t had a chance to realize that when sailors say it takes three days to get from one island to the other, they are talking about in the massive ships with a full crew. Thankfully, the food I have stashed is enough to last upward of a week, but that doesn’t help Lizzie. “We might have another day or two.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll need to feed in the next day or two. I should have done it already, but I’ve been taking smaller bites to keep things cordial with the crew on the Audacity.”

It takes everything I have to maintain a neutral expression and keep my anticipation buried deep. Smaller bites, more frequent feedings. “So you’ll feed on me.”

Lizzie pauses, the moment flavored with hesitation. She doesn’t look unsure, more like she’s considering the best angle to approach this conversation from. “It might be helpful if you understood what that entails.”

“You bite me. You drink my blood.” I aim for irreverence, but I don’t quite manage it. My voice is a little too breathy, pitched a little too high. We’ll have to get close for her to bite me. Her mouth is going to be on my skin.

Her lips shift into something almost like a smile. “Yes, but there is a side effect to my bite. If you’re not prepared for the experience, you might find it?.?.?. disconcerting.”

She’s usually so direct, it makes me suspicious that she’s dancing around this subject. I can’t tell if she’s teasing me or if she’s playing the part of a hunter circling her prey. I clear my throat. “I saw Poet after your?.?.?. feeding. I think I’ve got the gist of it. I’ll enjoy the bite. Simple enough.”

Her deep brown eyes flare red, but her expression remains neutral. “Does it make you nervous?”

Of course it makes me nervous. Obviously I would prefer to have a pleasurable bite rather than a painful one, but at least pain would override my senses and drown out the reality that Lizzie will have to press against my body to get access to my blood. I’ve been very careful to keep a decent amount of distance between us, to not touch her by accident. Which is telling in and of itself, but I’m not ready to examine that yet.

Lizzie straightens and takes a moment to glare at the sun overhead as if it’s personally insulted her. “It’s not just pleasure, Maeve. When I bite you, it will make you orgasm. All bloodline vampires have that side effect, but it’s particularly potent because of the powers of the Bianchi family. My family. It’s an involuntary physical reaction, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She says it so analytically that I want to laugh. Just a physical reaction. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Except I will be orgasming because of something she’s doing to me. Maybe it’s not too late to dive into the depths and see if I can find something else for her to feed on. Surely that danger is better than the vulnerability required to let her bite me.

But that’s the coward’s way out. We might have days left before we reach Khollu. I know I can go several days without food if absolutely necessary, but it would weaken me considerably. Skipping drinking blood will likely do the same to her, but it might be worth it if she can feed on someone in Khollu. Except no it won’t, because that means more time wasted, and I need her at full strength to deal with Bronagh when we find him. Not to mention she might get the wrong idea.

I have no problem with vampires as a whole, at least the kind of vampire that Lizzie is. She’s not rampaging and slaughtering anyone in her path. In fact, her control appears to be downright legendary for the great violence she’s obviously capable of. It will be a bite, plain and simple. Controlled. Calm. No actual danger to me. Easy. Simple.

I’ve been thinking too long already. I can pretend I’m being forced into this by our circumstances, but I’ve been curious about her bite ever since seeing Poet come out of our shared room. Best of all, even if an orgasm makes me question things, it won’t make Lizzie confused about our relationship. Her first cutting remark will slam me right back to myself. “We might as well get it done. Do it.”

“Such a noble sacrifice you’re making,” she says softly, a hint of something in her voice that almost sounds like seduction. Surely I’m imagining things. She’s thinking about my blood, not about me. “Come here, Maeve.”

I take a moment to strap the rudder in place and then nervously shift to sit beside her. She smells good. Too good for being trapped on this boat for three days. Much better than I must smell. Oh gods, what am I doing? I can’t let her get close to me when I stink. In a panic, I shove my arm into her face. “Here. Do it.”

This time Lizzie doesn’t bother to hide her amusement. Her lips curve and her eyes flicker crimson. “Biting you there will hamper your ability to move through your day. Besides, I prefer something a little more?.?.?. traditional.”

Again, I picture Poet after the feeding with Lizzie. There were no visible bites of her neck or arms. I’ve spent far too much time thinking about where Lizzie may have bitten her, which vein she chose. There’s a particularly juicy one in the upper thigh?.?.?.

But there’s no way we’re doing that right now. Or ever. I’d need a bath and a bottle of alcohol to even consider it.

“Fine.” I start to tilt my head to the side, but Lizzie catches the back of my neck in a strong but careful grip. She guides me to turn away from her, to lean back against her. I have to fight my body’s instinctive desire to tense, to pull away.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” This time, she actually laughs. “Just relax.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Liar.” She speaks against my neck, the sensation sending little tingles along my skin. Lower. “Breathe, Maeve. I promise this isn’t something to be endured. You’ll enjoy yourself.”

At this rate, there’s a good chance I might just die of embarrassment before she ever gets around to biting me. I tilt my head to the side a little to give her better access, holding my body in a tense line. “Just do it.”

I expect her to strike like a snake, quick and vicious. I’m so busy anticipating that moment of pain that I jolt when her lips brush the sensitive skin of my throat. It’s not quite a kiss, but it’s not not a kiss, either. It scrambles my brain as I try to analyze and reason away why she would bother to ease into the bite instead of just feeding.

Then her lips part and her teeth sink into my skin. The pain is quick, sharp, and gone in an instant, pleasure blooming in its wake. I melt against her. Oh. Oh. The first pull seems to connect directly to my clit, a sizzling warmth that makes me squirm.

She wraps her arms around me almost tenderly, holding me close. I shiver. It’s not intentional. My body has taken over and my brain is shorting out. Lizzie uses one hand to cup the back of my neck and wraps the other around my waist, holding me at the perfect angle for her to continue to drink. It feels good to have her hands on me, but it’s not enough. I want her to touch me everywhere. Fingers digging into skin, tongue and teeth exploring, her entire body wrapped up in mine.

Even without actual physical stimulation, pleasure builds with each swallow she takes of my blood. My hips shift, seeking friction. Touch me, touch me, touch me. I grab her arm banded around my waist, desperate to guide her hand between my thighs, but she’s so incredibly strong that I can’t move her. Even that denial heightens my desire.

My orgasm draws closer and closer. All the talk of involuntary physical reaction feels laughable now. It’s a wonder Lizzie doesn’t have a crowd of admirers chasing after her, offering their throats and thighs. How can they not when it feels so good?

There’s no space to feel embarrassed. Only to feel. My body flushes hot, blood seeming to gather in my breasts and pussy. To center around my clit. She’s not even touching me. That thought circles again and again, and each pull of her mouth shoves me toward a world-ending orgasm. All with her holding me in an almost friendly manner. Later, maybe I’ll die of embarrassment, but right now I can’t do anything but accept that I’m about to orgasm in the vampire’s arms. I have a faint thought to try to fight it, but by the time I even consider it, it’s too late. My pleasure crests in an undeniable wave that rolls over me, drawing a cry from my lips.

I find myself reaching back, my fingers in her hair, holding her mouth to my skin, even as she gentles the bite and drags her tongue over the puncture wounds. I’m shaking and I can’t seem to stop, the aftermath of the orgasm almost as intense as the orgasm itself.

I had intended to suffer through these bites as a necessity. She’s my partner in this endeavor, which means she needs to be fed. But as she eases back and straightens my shirt with an efficiency that’s almost clinical, I have to clamp my jaw shut to prevent myself from asking her to bite me again. Right now.

This is the kind of pleasure that one could get addicted to. Worse, it leads me to a very dangerous fantasy of how much better that orgasm would be if she was actually touching me?.?.?. if she was biting me somewhere else.

“The wounds will close quickly. You might be light-headed for a little while, but you’re not human, so I expect it will pass quickly.” She still has one arm banded around my waist. If she weren’t already touching me, I would have missed her tiny shiver. “I’ve never tasted a selkie before.”

It must be the orgasm muddling my thoughts, because there’s no other reason I would allow the question to leave my lips. “What do selkies taste like?”

“I don’t know what the others taste like, but you’re?.?.?. salty.” She inhales deeply, inhales me. “There’s a depth of flavor there, something familiar and yet not at the same time.”

My brain is slowly coming back online, and that’s the only reason I’m able to stop my next question before I speak it. Is that a good thing? It doesn’t matter if it’s a good thing or not. I’m currently her only source of food. I just need to be grateful that I don’t have to suffer through the experience.

I’m a little woozy as I shift back to my spot and take up the rudder again. I want to blame it on the blood loss, but she only took a few mouthfuls. No, what’s scrambling my senses is her proximity and the pleasure she dealt me.

I’m in trouble.

Lizzie stretches out and makes a sound that I know isn’t sexual, but my body responds all the same. I’m helpless to do anything but stare at the long line of her. Her shirt rides up a tiny bit to reveal a slice of pale skin. Gods help me, but my mouth waters at the sight. I want to taste her. To see if she’s just as salty and layered as I am, or if there’s a sharp edge to her like I suspect. To discover what kinds of sounds she makes when she comes.

Foolish thoughts. Downright suicidal thoughts if I’m being honest. We’re partners; the very last thing we need is to complicate things with sex. The only reason we’re sailing together is because I need my skin and Lizzie needs her jewels. Once we’ve fulfilled those conditions, I’ll return home and so will she—to an entirely different realm.

I’ll never see her again.

The thought should bring relief, but there’s only a strange sense of loss. I barely know this vampire, and yet I’m drawn to her all the same. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of her. That’s a good thing?.?.?. or at least it should be.

Without meaning to, I lift my hand to my chin and press my fingers to the exact same spots she did back in Viedna. The memory of her holding me, commanding me back to myself, washes over me. Only this time it’s accompanied by her mouth on my skin, her teeth piercing me. With need.

I’m in a whole lot of trouble.