Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,23

unique. Vampires tended to drink from others not of their own Kind, unless they were Mated. In which case, it was a biological imperative to feed from their Mate. Humans, in general, had the blandest taste. Compared to other Kinds, their blood seemed diluted, liked watered down wine. There were always exceptions to every rule, but they were exceptionally rare.

Dark Ones’ blood had a smoky flavor, thicker, stronger, but ultimately unsatisfying to another vampire, unless it was between Mates. Drinking the blood of another Dark One didn’t quench a vampire’s thirst. Sometimes, it made it worse.

Pure Ones seemed to be made for Dark Ones’ consumption. Both blood and body. Their blood tasted sweeter than any other Kind, like the most addictive nectar, just the right consistency, clean and pure. The more a Dark One drank, the more they wanted to keep drinking.

Their bodies, too, satisfied a Dark One’s need for dominance. Pure Ones, for the most part, had an innocence and…well, purity…about them that called to the primitive possessiveness in a Dark One’s nature. Like a lion subduing an antelope. A hawk ensnaring a hare.

It was simply the order of things.

Ever since he laid eyes on Eveline Marceau, Ramses wanted to possess her. Inside and out. He wanted to own every fiber of her being.

But for now, he’d start by taking her sweet, Pure blood.

With his fangs, he cut through the top buttons of her conservative wool dress, baring her throat and upper chest. Perhaps he’d have the Sentries replace her wardrobe with something more exciting. On the other hand, he enjoyed the Seer’s prim librarian style.

All the more fun to unwrap her.

Next, he ran the tips of his fangs along her jugular vein, priming the area, making the thin line raise beneath her skin, begging for his penetration. Other Kinds often viewed Dark Ones as predators, even monsters, for taking what they needed from the bodies of others.

But the truth was: the prey enjoyed being taken.

Unless a Dark One intended for their bite to hurt, through the chemistry of the venom in their saliva, aside from the initial sting of penetration, the process was usually pleasurable for the prey. Ramses knew that when he sank his fangs into Eveline’s vein, she would feel only undiluted pleasure.

And arousal. Flaming hot arousal.

The same feeling that blazed through his own veins as he cocooned her with his naked body, breathed in her fresh, springtime scent and conformed his hard angles to her subtle, feminine curves.

She released a long, shuddering sigh as she unconsciously angled her throat closer to his face, pressing the pulsing vein in her neck against his lips.

Bite me, her body entreated.

Drink me, her blood demanded.

Come inside me, her woman’s core pleaded as she aligned her softness against his turgid length.

He knew she was soaking wet already. The air around them permeated with her arousal, his arousal, every molecule drenched with the promise of sex.

He shifted slightly until the plump head of his thick cock pulsed directly against her pearl. Even through layers of fabric, she would feel the steel and heat of him.

She did, for a desperate little whimper escaped her lips, and she tried to wriggle closer, seeking more friction.

It would be so easy to lift her skirt, rip away her underthings and thrust himself into her welcoming wet warmth. But then her earlier words echoed in his mind:

I value my freedom too much…No generosity and attentiveness, as you put it, will make me give up myself.

Oh, he’d make sure she gave up herself to him. And when she did, when she admitted her helpless, obsessive need for him, he’d only give her what she wanted when she begged him.

On her knees. With her eyes, hands and mouth.

But for now, he’d give her a small taste of what she could have if she let herself go with him.

Slowly, he licked the raised vein of her jugular, now plump and pulsing, eager for his penetration. He sucked the silky skin of her neck with his lips and peppered light kisses all along her throat, jaw and face.

She mewled beseechingly, her brow wrinkled with impatience, frustration and wantonness.

Over and over he did this, teasing her with his mouth, scratching her with his fangs, abrading her sensitive skin with his stubble, but never sinking where she wanted him. Below, he subtly nudged his hips against her, grinding his erection in the V of her thighs, his head against her clitoris, keeping the pressure hard enough to drive her insane, light enough