Chapter 11

Chapter 11

My heartbeat was in my ears, and I was questioning what had compelled me to do this. I managed nervous steps towards the couch, then I took a seat, rigid and upright and trying to talk myself into calming down. All of my relationships had me on edge lately, and I'd forced myself to do this as some sort of trust exercise. But damn if I wasn't scared.

He was just Marcus. I talked to him daily, we went on dates, we'd kissed, he'd seen me naked, he'd shifted into an insatiable beast and been inside me—why did this feel so much more intimate than all of those things?

Was it because I volunteered? Because I looked at his most dangerous traits, and I told him I wanted him to show me what that truly looked like?

When I committed to this, I did so with the trust and pretense that, while he was the kind of vicious, heartless demon I'd read about in books, I knew Marcus wasn't going to hurt me. I'd told myself this was safe, and took a trust fall off a jagged spire.

I should be confident. I was the one in control now, as I took our quasi-relationship into new territory while we were both of sound body and mind .

And yet, as he sat beside me on the couch, my whole face was blazing, and I was the insecure, inexperienced nerd all over again.

Maybe I never stopped being that girl. Just because I lost my virginity in particularly spectacular circumstances, that didn't mean I was suddenly a sexy, confident minx. I was, at my absolute best, confused, timid, and trying to figure out what my life was anymore. It might have been different if he'd invited me over for movie night. I knew where that might end up, and I was open to giving a normal relationship a shot.

But this was so different. He was going to drink from me—take some part of me inside of him, and use my body to sustain his life.

I was overthinking this.

WAS I overthinking this?

The only thing that was certain in my mind, as he placed an arm around me and pulled me against his shoulder, was that, no matter what my reservations might be, I didn't want any other woman to be in this position with him.

"Deep breath." He said, whispering into my hair. He nuzzled into my locks, while he rubbed my shoulder.

"Deep breath." I repeated. Saying the words calmed me down.

"If this is too much for you, we don't have to do this. I'm okay with using the blood bank. I've done it for the last decade, so it doesn't bother me."

"W-would you prefer that?" I murmured into the crux of his shoulder, now feeling even more insecure. I was terrible at this. If it was possible to suck at just sitting still and letting a vampire bite you, I'd accomplished that feat.

"Never. But if I'm choosing between you being terrified of me, or surviving on bland human vegetables, I'd give up flavor for function any day." His gentle laugh shook through me, and I felt like an idiot for ever being afraid of him. "Your mental health matters to me way more than your blood."

He's just Marcus , I reminded myself. I'd been grappling with a lot since the night at the hot springs, trying to come to terms with so many things, that I'd pulled away from him. But I didn't want that. Maybe he'd been right to not tell me what he was and who he was with how I'd been acting now that I knew.

I nudged up closer, then pulled all of my long, dark hair over my outer shoulder. I tilted my chin away to fully expose my neck. "Try again. I can handle it."

His eyes darkened, and my breathing hitched. He drew a line along the slope of my neck with the softest touch of his fingertips, then he leaned in, his fangs extended, and he sank them into my skin.

It didn't hurt. I don't know why it didn't, but all I could feel was the slight suction as he drank from me. He kept drawing gentle lines up and down my arms as he lost himself to my blood. The touch was innocent and intimate at the same time, and I didn't want to admit that the gentle way he kept stroking my shoulder was what had my heart racing the most.

"Are you okay?" He asked directly into my mind.

"Yes. "

"Lightheaded?"

"Yes."

"Is your vision turning black?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want to know what you taste like?"

I was already hot, and that question took my mind over the edge. The breathy way I said "yes" could only be blamed on the blood loss.

Marcus stopped draining me, and his teeth slid out of my skin, retracting to a normal, human length. Not a single drop spilled from the open wound before he replaced fangs with the soft touch of his tongue. He lapped over the punctures slowly, closing the wounds again.

He was still holding me like I was something precious, cradling me with one arm, and using his other hand to turn my head towards him. He gripped my chin firmly, then he touched his lips softly against mine.

There was no urgency. No desperation or animalistic violence. It was the most gentle and delicate touch he'd ever shown me—that anyone had ever shown me. He nudged my lips apart with the slow slip of his tongue, and I let him enter my mouth without protest. I sank into the flavor as he slid the tip over my taste buds.

My own blood tangling with his flavor was unexpectedly sweet. The copper taste I was used to was tinged with a dessert-like richness. Without thinking, not wanting to lose his honeyed kiss, I chased his tongue with my own, and entered his mouth. When he dragged his teeth over the soft muscle, then sucked on my tongue to keep me, it dawned on me that I'd never been so bold as to kiss someone back like that. I'd always been on the receiving end, and it was always so rough and dominant, I never felt like I could.

Marcus pulled away with half lidded eyes, and I wasn't ready for his absence. The rise and fall of his chest revealed short breaths, and I could hear his pounding pulse as intensely as I could feel my own.

His kiss wasn't electricity and violence and fireworks this time. It was a summer rain after a heat wave, and I could have danced in that magical relief for the rest of my life.

"Sorry I… I got carried away." He released my shoulder, giving me a few inches of space on the couch.

"I think I like it best when you get carried away." I admitted, before drawing my lips into my mouth to savor the lingering sensation. "Is this really how I taste to you?"

"Like blood, sex, and chocolate? Yes." He chuckled against me. "Blood that's been processed through a vampire's heart is a whole new experience, isn't it?"

"It's good." I touched my fingers to my lips, recalling the sensation. "All of that was good. I like when you're sweet but…" I paused, too embarrassed to voice the words.

"But you like it better when I'm not." He smirked as he finished my sentence, and I immediately remembered that his ability to communicate through my mind wasn't a one way street. Which meant he always knew everything I was thinking. I couldn't lie or hide from him if I tried.

If that's the case, I wish he'd kiss me again. I wish he'd do it a little harder this time. I wish he'd —

He interrupted my thoughts with his lips back on mine, forcing me beneath him on the couch. The weight of his body pressing me into the soft cushions had me bowing against the cushions in a need to meld closer to him.

Was this wrong?

I had a date with his brother on the next full moon, after all. This wasn't fair to either of them. It also wasn't fair that I was thinking of Adrian now instead of focusing on the present.

Adrian…

What the hell was I doing? I wasn't like this. I wasn't a girl who juggled multiple men, who pined after one while openly dating another.

But Adrian didn't want me like that, so… so it was all okay, right? It's not like he was a real option. If he was, would I want him instead? Would I be considering anyone else? I met my professor first, he was dominant and strong and loved math and science…

Ridiculous. He's a teacher—one of my teachers. Unlike Adrian, Marcus was a realistic option.

Marcus was…

Now hovering over me, a hand at each side of my head on the armrest of the couch, and staring down at me from arm's length.

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

And I realized that he'd just heard every single word in my head .

He sat back on his haunches, and he covered the lower half of his face with his hand. He wouldn't make eye contact anymore, but I could see the red in his cheeks. "You should take the guest room. Get some rest. I'll take you home once you're recovered."

"I didn't mean it like—"

"It should only take a few hours." He interrupted me with a smile. "That's really all it takes. I never let myself get too low on reserves, so I didn't need a lot of blood."

Marcus stood from the couch and offered me a hand.

Feeling like the worst person in the world, I accepted the gesture, and thanked him when he showed me to the guest room. He offered to cook me a meal or take me out, but I turned him down and laid down.

To be honest, while I hadn't intended to admit any of that to him, it was probably for the best that he knew. I wasn't a good liar on my best days, and considering their relationship and collective marks on my skin, this sort of drama was going to be an issue so long as I was entangled between them.

I thought back on the field trip, recalling what Linda and Evelyn had said.

"If I'm not his first choice, then he's not even my last choice." Linda had professed.

"You're obviously that guy's first and only choice. So if you want him, get him." Evelyn had agreed.

I traced the mark on my lip then the mark on my neck. At some point, I needed to officially reject one of these marks, whatever that meant. I had wanted to ask Marcus about it again, but doing so now seemed like it would be too hard of a blow, especially when I didn't know for sure which mark I was going to pick.

Was that even a real question?

I was going to reject Adrian's, of course. Even if he did ask me out, having gotten this tangled with him was clearly a mistake. This shouldn't be a debate at all.

It shouldn't be.

Great job, Lila. Great fucking job.