Prologue

When Zephyra drank my blood, it felt strange but not arousing. When Kole does it, it makes me so wet I'm surprised my juices don't drip down my leg and merge with the blood trickling from my thigh.

He drinks from me like he's never been so hungry for anything in his life. And perhaps that's why it's such a turn on — because I know he hasn't.

And because I know what my blood does to him.

"You too," I whisper. "I want to feed from you too."

He looks up at me, blood coating his beard. "Fuck," he whispers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Nova, we haven't done that since?—"

"Will anything bad happen?" I ask him, mouth slickening at the thought of his blood inside it, coating my tongue.

He shakes his head. "No, but?—"

"Then do it." My eyes flash.

He looks down at his wrist, but doesn't hesitate. He tears it open with his filed, pointed teeth and presents it to me.

I lean down, swipe my tongue over the wound, then feel my eyes roll back as I drink.

At first, it is bitter and metallic and feels strange inside me, but then he frees one of my arms, opens my wrist, and drinks from me at the same time.

With his free hand, he starts to fuck me.

His fingers thrust up into my pussy, then he picks me up, wraps my legs around his waist, and plunges his cock inside me instead.

I gasp and smack my head on the door as it jerks backward, but bring his wrist back to my lips. I want more. I want him in every way.

Snapping the vines free, Kole pulls me away from the door and whirls me around. He stumbles toward the wall opposite, knocking a vase flying.

I stop drinking.

Blood drips down my chin.

Kole takes my wrist and smears it across my chest, then slicks my nipples with my own blood and dips his head to devour them.

We fuck hard and fast, but then it slows.

I feel every bit of him. The veins on his cock, the way he touches my inner walls, the way he fills me up. He tilts his hips and hits the spot I know he was looking for. He teases it with the head of his dick, holding on to me as my eyes widen.

He smears more blood over my lips, my neck, my nipples. Then cleans me with his tongue.

I slide my hand down between us, desperate to work my clit into oblivion.

Kole's eyes flash with hunger.

He wants to bite my neck. I can feel the urge beating against his ribcage.

He wants to drink me dry, but he's not letting himself, and the fact he can hold back because it's me, and he loves me, makes me want to give it to him even more.

I come hard and slow, slicking his dick with my wetness.

He punches the wall when he comes.

A chunk of plaster breaks off and hits the ground.

He is leaning against me, bloody and panting and sweaty, when a voice says, "I'm not sure playing blood games in the presence of a one-thousand-year-old vampire is a good idea."

When I open my eyes, Lucien Thornfield is staring at me. And he looks hungry, too.