Thorns of Fate: Serendipity Saga Book One

Chapter Seven

Carson leaned onto the edge of the couch, pulling the tank over his head and placing it gently back on the couch. He made a habit of undressing before I fed on him. I definitely wasn't complaining but I was a bit muffed to know that he thought I'd make a mess. The curves of his abdomen were exposed in the absence of his shirt.

His gaze was locked onto me. I shifted forward. This had become much easier since I'd finally been able to move. He tilted his head to the side and exposed his neck to me. I hovered over him. He braced his arms around my hips and I gripped his shoulder.

The fangs were there the moment I pressed my lips to his skin. As always before, my teeth slid easily through and blood welled out. The blossom of cathartic feeling filling my chest got to me every time. I could see how this could become addicting. It was like a drug in and of itself. I moaned, pulling him closer, taking more.

As I thought about it, I realized this was the first time we had had an almost private feeding. Typically there were several people within hearing distance. This time, we only had to deal with Anton. I was glad for this because I frequently found feeding from him to have an intoxicating allure that would've been embarrassing for someone to sit in on.

His arms had moved higher along my back, his hands twisting fistfuls of my shirt. His lips lingered below my ear while I fed and I could hear every sound they elicited, no matter how hard he fought to keep from making noise. There was no missing the groan of pleasure he exhaled now. He pressed himself more firmly against me.

You feel...incredible...

The words leapt unbidden into my mind. Evidently my mind liked to run wild while his lifeblood filled me. I pulled him closer, crushing his chest to mine and feeling his warmth envelope me.

I felt the instant he stiffened but I couldn't stop. The ecstasy had built into a pressure that couldn't be quenched. I thirsted for him, I thrived on him.

His hands went to my shoulders, fingers digging a little into my skin. "Easy," he mumbled against my ear. I heard the words. I told myself to stop, but still sucked greedily. "Kyra," he urged, trying to pry me away from him. He slumped forward, the struggle obviously weakening him.

And then I felt it. The sharp sting of pain at my neck shocked me at first. The draw felt even more oddly. It didn't feel bad. Not after the initial jolt of pain. I felt like I was floating. The world no longer seemed to be in focus. A burning desire filled my belly and I didn't want him to stop. When it seemed I might explode with the all-encompassing ecstasy, he lurched away from me, pulling my lips from his skin at the same time.

"Dammit," he hissed, running to the bathroom.

I still seemed to float distantly, in a far off land, the feeling of him carved into my skin.

He stomped back into the room, falling to his knees beside me and pressing a wad of toilet paper against my neck. "Dammit," he cursed again, waiting patiently for the wound to stitch itself back together. The hand not holding my improvised bandage held my face in his palm. He looked me over, his eyes meeting mine though I didn't feel as though my eyes were locked in the gaze.

"Kyra," he urged, trying to draw my attention. He shook my cheek softly.

My eyes centered, flicking down to his neck and the exhilarating drug hidden beneath his skin. "Hey, come on. I'm here, focus on me." He almost sounded pleading but my eyes wouldn't focus on him, my mind blocking out the humanity of this moment. I just wanted more blood.

"Dammit, I didn't want to do this," he murmured leaning back from me.

The sharp sting of his palm snapped me out of my revery. I lurched back, my hand clasping at the warm spot of impact along my face. My eyes shot to his and I could already tell they were welling with tears against my wishes.