Daughter of Nyx (Book Four)

Chapter Eighteen

Okay, so, this chapter is a lot. Like, not a LOT a lot... just a lot. A slight warning. Are you warned? Okay, let's proceed.

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Fingers touched her shoulder and then she was looking up into the dizzying tri-colored eyes of her maker. Her Draven.

"Chevo—"

Feeling so strong, she reached up and pulled him, brushing her lips against his.

"Kiss me, my maker. Please. I want to feel you," she said against his lips.

"You don't know what your doing, Chevonne. It's the blood talking." His hand were against her waist, trying to put distance between them.

"No, it's not." Her tongue swept the seam of his lips, trying to entice him to open his. "I almost begged you earlier. Do you know that? Could you see it in my mind? I wanted to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me. I'll do it now, if you want. Beg you for a simple kiss."

"It—"

She dropped to her knees, watching his eyes, as she pulled at the button of his slack. "Please, my maker, my master, please kiss me." As she spoke, she went for the zipper before he pulled her hands away, growling something in Italian.

More hands touched her, gripping her upper arms, and separating her from the one she wanted to taste.

"What happened?"

Elliot's voice came from a distance and she turned.

"Will you kiss me?"

"Now isn't the best time, love." He looked past her. "What happened?" he repeated.

"Someone chose to die tonight. That's what happened." Draven's voice was cold.

"No," she said, the endorphins in her blood rising higher and she tried to pull Elliot to her. Maybe he would help her. "No one needs to die. I messed up. I pushed too hard. I think."

"Bella, did you see who was drinking with you?"

She shook her head, the world now touched with haze. "I was alone."

Draven's deep growl sent chills across her flesh.

Elliot held her still and she looked beyond him, searching for anyone to help her. To touch her. To end the flames in her blood.

There was a figure in the door, there and gone for such a brief moment. She shook her head, trying to forget the evil twist to the lips and the colorless eyes.

"I need..."

What did she need?

Touch. Flesh. Skin against hers.

Draven didn't want her. Neither did Elliot. But she had other lovers.

She twisted, the feeling of Elliot's fingers sliding across her skin bringing harsh breath and in the close distance, another human cried out their pleasure. Pleasure she desperately needed. But she didn't want a human.

She was quick enough, strong enough, that she was able to get away from them and she headed to the 'sitting' room. Where she had left Jaylen on the couch.

At the door, ignoring her name, she stopped cold.

At some point, that heated breath had been released and the cacophony of sights and sounds pulled at her. The soft breaths and broken cries brought a new heat to her, one that flowed through her, intensifying with each noise. Tangled bodies writhed and shifted, allowing visions of teeth in flesh, erotic flashes of sinful penetration and the softer, more delicate, far more sensual female pairings. That. All of that. She ached for it and giving what left of her over to the blood, she took a step into that den of lust and desire.