Chapter 18

Kayla

Adryan hadn’t taken me to hell. Instead, after taking me to the bedroom to grab me a pair of sweats, he led me into a grand dining room, a long and ornate polished table sitting in the center of the room, fine china and candelabras in its center, and a huge crystal chandelier hanging above the middle of the large wooden structure.

I was thankful for the sweats; otherwise, I would’ve been naked from the waist down. And although my libido had no problem with that—and neither did Adryan, judging by the heated look he’d given me—we had more important things to worry and talk about than getting off.

The dog he called Bear stayed right beside me the entire time, his body damn near bigger than mine and setting my teeth on edge. But Adryan didn’t seem the least bit worried that Cujo would rip my throat out, so I tried to let that set me at ease.

It didn’t, but whatever.

There was a fire roaring within the mantle. I stood there a moment just staring at those flames, feeling Adryan right beside me, his gaze on me. We hadn’t said a word to each other since he led me into this room. But in that moment, no words needed to be said, and I was grateful.

So when I turned my attention back to the table and noticed two place settings, one at the head and the other just to the right of it, I knew that was where I was supposed to go. That’s where he wants me.

I shivered in pleasure at that thought, at the image of doing what he said when he said it. I’m so fucked in the head.

“I had the staff prepare some meals before I sent them away. While you were sleeping in the study, I heated one of them up. I’d like you to eat and drink.”

There was a hard edge to his voice, like a parent making it known to a child this was what would happen—no ifs, ands, or buts. There was no leeway in his words, no room for argument. But I wouldn’t have the strength to fight him on this anyway. I was thirsty, and hungry.

Again I wondered what time it was, if the sun was out or if I’d hardly slept—again—and it was still dark. But I didn’t care enough to ask. I didn’t care enough about much of anything except this moment in time and getting answers to the questions burning inside me.

So I moved to the spot beside the head of the table, took my seat, and felt him looming behind me, his hands on the back of the chair as he pushed it in, his body a heady presence as he leaned down, reached for the linen napkin in front of me, and placed it over my lap.

I felt his lips at my temple, heard him inhale deeply, and forced myself not to let my eyes flutter closed, not to let that feeling of pure pleasure wash away all my common sense right now.

With a low rumble, he pulled away and took his seat, and I allowed myself to breathe deeply. I glanced at him, watching as he poured a generous helping of bourbon into a square glass. He then reached for the bottle of wine and poured me a modest amount.

“It’s almost breakfast time.”

“Not when you’re a vampire, princess.”

Adryan pushed a glass of water toward me, and despite his caveman attitude and the independent side of me wanting to take that glass and pour the water right over his egotistical head because I was a grown-ass woman and could do shit myself, I was thirsty as hell and too tired to fight.

And besides… drinking when the sun was about to rise seemed like the least of my worries.

I grabbed the glass and downed it quickly, so quickly that droplets of water dribbled out the corner of my mouth and down my chin. I set my glass down and was about to wipe them away, when—quicker than I could anticipate—Adryan’s arm shot out, his fingers curling around my wrist, stopping me from moving.

My eyes widened in shock as I stared at him, unable to move, unsure what he was doing. This low sound left him, a deep noise from within his chest as he leaned in and—further shocking me—dragged his tongue from the edge of my jaw all the way to the corner of my mouth, lapping up those droplets of water.

I felt the smooth swipe of his thumb across the pulse point at my wrist, and then just as quickly, he was settled back in his seat, his glass of bourbon to his lips, his gaze focused on me over the rim as if that hadn’t just happened.

I swallowed thickly, adrenaline pumping through me at that very sexually laced experience. I didn’t know what to say, if I should even say anything at all.

I swallowed again and focused on the plate before me. Everything smelled delicious, looked professionally made, artistically displayed. Then again, in a home as lavish as the one I was currently in, I wasn’t expecting bags of fast food for a meal.

My thoughts went to the man beside me, as I was finding my mind constantly drawn to him. With my thirst taken care of, my focus replayed what and who he really was.

A vampire. A species in the Otherworld.

I lifted my hand and gently touched my throat, at that little hollow at the base. I wondered if the satisfying sensation of drinking a glassful of cold water, that nonsexual pleasure you felt with no longer being thirsty, was how he felt when he drank… blood?—

“Yes,” he said low in that grumbly voice of his that turned my insides out, drawing me from of my thoughts.

I snapped my focus to him, not realizing I’d been staring at his throat. His eyes were these inky pools that drew me in, bottomless like space or the ocean, or a vat full of spilled ink.

“W-What?”

He smirked, a little tilt of his lips that told me he found my question humorous, because he and I both knew I was very aware of what he meant.

“You just finished your water and got this faraway look in your eyes. You were deep in thought as you touched your throat, as your focus went to my neck.” He brought his glass to his mouth and drank half the bourbon in one swallow. “You were wondering if that undeniable thirst, the kind that claws at your throat, that unbearable need clenching your belly for some relief, is what I feel when I need blood.”

“Can you read minds?” My voice was low, inquisitive. I wanted to seem like I was surer of things, that I wasn’t panicking on the inside. But really, what difference did it make? This man had to know my world was turned upside down and for obvious reasons I’d be freaked out.

“Sadly, for my kind, that’s not one of my many incredible abilities.” He flashed me a cocky grin, all straight, white teeth, his canines tapering to daggerlike points.

Although I’d been one of those people who found vampires in movies and books exotically sexual, dangerously attractive in a fantastical kind of way, sitting right beside one, accepting that this was actually reality, brought things into a whole new perspective.

“But yeah, to put it mildly, that’s what it’s like for my kind when we need blood.” He leaned forward. “If you add that there’s a fire in your blood, like your muscles are being shredded, like a sledgehammer is being taken to your bones.” His focus was so intent. “You can’t breathe because you’re so thirsty you can”t think straight.” The deeper I stared into his eyes, the more I got lost. “You’re trapped in your own personal hell, and the only thing that can ease you, the only antidote, the only thing that’ll get you off, is a mouthful of that thick, coppery flavor of someone else’s life pouring down your throat and filling your belly.”

I swallowed and nodded, because what exactly could you say to something like that?

“And when you’re finally gorging yourself on it, swallowing as much as you can, as fast as you can, there’s nothing in the world that tastes as good.” He slowly leaned forward, so damn slowly he was like a predator about to pounce on that unsuspecting prey. “At least,” he murmured, and his voice dropped lower, his eyes becoming hooded, “it used to be the sweetest taste in the world.”

I was breathing harder, had my hands curled tightly into fists in my lap.

“But I have to admit.” He leaned another inch until I felt the warm brush of his alcohol-laced breath move along my lips. “Your blood and the flavor of your sweet pussy far surpass anything else.”

With a strength I hadn’t known I possessed, I leaned back, farther away from him. I wouldn’t let the foggy haze of arousal cloud my mind and divert me from what I wanted to ask, all the important things I needed to know.

He chuckled low and deep but allowed me my space as he, too, moved back to settle comfortably in his chair. My heart was still racing, this fear of myself and how much I liked all of this, confusing and terrifying me.

I felt something cold and wet touch my arm and glanced down to see the dog nudge me with his nose. He looked up at me with his huge black eyes, a low huff leaving him.

“He’s trying to comfort you. He can tell you’re on edge, afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” I whispered—lied—still looking at the dog.

“Yes, you are.”

I looked at Adryan and licked my lips. “I’m afraid of the situation.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Not of you.”

He smiled. It wasn’t an arrogant grin. Wasn’t a smirk. It was a sincere smile. “I know.” He finished off his bourbon, the bottom of his glass banging on the table as he set it back down. “And it turns me on.”