“The hospital…blood bank…” he murmured weakly.
Regan gritted her teeth. Damn. Jagr was right about the humans calling for the cops. And the last thing they needed right now was another battle with guns blazing.
“Screw that, we don’t have time.” Blowing out an aggravated sigh, Regan pressed her wrist to Jagr’s mouth. As much as she hated to admit it, she owed the damned vampire. “Here.”
His lids lifted to reveal those stunning ice-blue eyes. “Regan?”
“Just do it before I decide to leave your ass here for the cops to haul off to the morgue.”
“Ew.” With a flutter of his wings, the gargoyle hurried toward the door leading to the hallway. “I’ll go keep watch and make sure your dinner isn’t interrupted.”
“Regan, you are certain?” Jagr demanded, his voice thicker, with an odd accent and strange speech pattern.
Certain? Christ, no. She didn’t have clue what was about to happen. Well, nothing beyond a great deal of pain when those huge fangs sank into her flesh.
Thankfully, she was no coward, and if Jagr needed blood to get him up and moving, then by God, he was going to get blood.
“Do you need an engraved invitation?” she taunted, not at all surprised when his mouth widened and his fangs slid smoothly into her wrist. Jagr was not a vampire to back down from a direct challenge. Regrettably, her plan had neglected one small detail.
She was braced for pain. She was even braced for the necessity of ripping him forcibly from her flesh if he lost his head and tried to take more than she was willing to offer.
What she wasn’t prepared for was the realization that far from painful, the sensation that jolted through her was one of intense, relentless pleasure.
“Oh…” Her eyes drifted shut as she felt him suck deeply of her blood, every pull tightening the coiling bliss that was lodged in the pit of her stomach. “Shit…”
Her entire body trembled, the same excitement that had set her on fire when he’d kissed her blazing through her body. Only this time it was more powerful, more driving, more…explosive. Her free hand landed flat on the floor as her body bent forward, nearly toppling her onto Jagr’s prostrate form. She was drowning, lost in the dark, intoxicating desire.
In a distant corner of her mind, she heard Jagr’s low moan of satisfaction, or perhaps it was pleasure. At the moment, she didn’t care which it was. She was too caught in the sweet building tension that gripped her with breathtaking force.
He sucked again and again, forcing the pleasure to near pain. God almighty. She couldn’t stand any more. There had to be something…something…
And then it happened. The pleasure reached a critical mass, and exploded with enough force to wrench a low scream from her throat.
Toppling forward, her face landed squarely on Jagr’s hard chest, the rich scent of his male power mingling with the lingering convulsions that rocked her body.
Boneless and floating on a tide of sweet lethargy, Regan battled to regain command of her shaken body. Holy crap. She sucked in a deep, rasping breath. Then with an effort, she lifted her head and wrenched open her heavy lids.
Only to encounter Jagr’s ice-blue gaze.
“Damn you,” she husked, her heartbeat still thundering in her ear.
With a deliberate motion, the vampire gently licked the two pinpricks of blood staining her wrist before allowing her to jerk her arm from his grasp.
“You’ve never had the bite of a vampire?”
Still too weak to stand, Regan contented herself with scooting backward on her knees, rubbing her already healed wrist on her jeans, as if she could rub away the memories of her raw pleasure.
Fat chance.
She knew beyond all doubt that the sensations would be seared into her brain for all eternity.
“No,” she muttered. “Culligan refused to share torturing me with anyone else.”
He remained stretched on the floor, his fiercely beautiful features unreadable.
“Do you want an apology?”
“Are you sorry?”