The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(140)

She was, quite simply, the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen.

She was both exotic, because he had been living among humans for so long and had missed the features of his people—and completely normal, because her beauty and her coloring were so much like his own.

“It is a crime to keep you covered,” he breathed.

The blush that ran up from her throat made his fangs descend, and his hands curled from the need to touch her.

“In truth?” she whispered.

“On my blood.”

As if his regard gave her courage, she put the mesh aside, and continued with her uncovering, releasing the simple brass clasp at her collarbone and letting the first layer of robes fall from her shoulders.

She was delicately built, but she was all female, and as much as he tried not to linger on what her body looked like, his eyes refused to go anywhere else.

That flickering pulse at the side of her neck was an invitation to bite.

The swell of her breasts was an entreaty to touch.

The scent of her sex was a call to be answered.

iAm swallowed the curse that wanted to escape from his mouth. She was too much, too beautiful, too alive. His heart was pounding and his cock was hard as marble behind his fly.

He wished he’d had a drink before he’d come here.

Or six.

“You’re hungry,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“Would you care to take my…”

He couldn’t believe where she was going with that. “Your vein?”

“If you should care for it.”

Oh, f*ck him, yes. “I would beg for such…”

“There is no need for that.”

He expected her to offer him her wrist, but as she lifted her chin and exposed her throat, he was rendered really f*cking stoopid.

iAm knew he should ask if she was sure, press her to think this through. This was going to move very fast if he struck her with his fangs.

Instead, he groaned, “Please tell me your name.”

“It is maichen. I told you. That is the only name I feel is mine.”

He ground his molars. “maichen, you need to know … I don’t think I can stop. If I get in there.”

“I know. That is why I want you at my throat. No going back.”

His eyes rolled and his torso swayed. “But don’t you have a father back home? Someone who will care that you’re…”

He knew the standards were different for members of the servant class—females were not expected to be virgins, as they were required to be of service in whatever way was demanded of them. But still.

“Are you certain of this?” he said.

His erection was screaming for him to STFU, but his conscience was even stronger than that roaring drive.

“I am.”

Those peridot eyes of hers were steady, strong, certain.

Time to stop talking.

iAm went for her, lunging forward, grabbing onto the nape of her neck, bending her backward, holding her in his arms and putting his mouth to her flesh. He had never taken from a female this way, and he didn’t immediately strike. He was overcome by the scent of her, by the soft skin under his lips as he extended his tongue and licked up her vein.

He intended to nuzzle at her further, but as her hands took hold of his shoulders and she arched into him, he couldn’t wait any longer. He hissed and penetrated her skin.

At the bite, she cried out, but instead of pushing him away, she pulled him even closer.

Her blood was a blast in his mouth, tasting of dark wine and promising an intoxication that started to take hold the instant he swallowed. Sucking at her, he swept his hand down her body, finding the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip. More, he took more as his pelvis pushed forward, seeking that vital juncture of hers that was still under folds of fabric.

Dizzy and hyper-focused at the same time, he laid her out flat and straddled her body, as a wild animal might protect its prey. But he wanted to give to her as well. Moving one of his arms up, he put his wrist over her mouth, rubbing at her lips.

Taking the cue, she struck as well, taking his vein as he took hers, completing a circle that exploded the heat between them.

Before he knew what he was doing, he went to work on her robes, pulling up, higher and higher, the hem, the folds, the weight. Her thighs were smooth and supple, and they opened for him, giving him access to what he wanted most.

No panties. Shadows didn’t wear them.

When he swept his hand over her sex, she moaned and pulled harder on what he was providing her—and he wanted her to drain him dry. But not the other way around. Forcing himself to release her vein, he licked the puncture wounds closed and then found himself drawing his lips downward, crossing over the graceful wing of her collarbone. Heading for her breasts, he gripped the top of her robing with his fangs and ripped it apart, the fabric giving way until—

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he gasped.

Her breasts were high and tight and tipped with little nipples that he didn’t spend a lot of time looking at. No, he went for them with his mouth, worshiping them while she continued to take from his wrist.

And still, he wanted more of her.

Just as he was getting greedy to head lower—even though he had no idea what he was doing—she released his vein and freed him up. Without giving her a chance to seal where she had struck, he reared up over her and took both sides of what he had begun to tear in his hands.