bed, still shirtless from flying. The muscles in his chest twitched as he positioned himself, and Luna was drawn to him as she always was.
His beautiful deep gold eyes lifted to her. “Where from tonight, love?”
She swallowed as her gaze went to his strong throat. His scent was exquisite there, and she loved the sound of his low growls when she struck, when she took the first few pulls—the way he swallowed convulsively and his breaths quickened.
Climbing onto the bed beside him, she sat on her knees. Her fangs tingled, had lengthened. “Are you okay with me drinking from your neck again?”
“You can drink from anywhere you want.”
His voice had a husky note to it. Yes, he liked it when she drank from him. But she wished he’d let her repay him in some way. Still, he asked for nothing in return, insisting that holding her was payment enough. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she leaned into the spot she liked best. “Ready?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She struck, and his blood filled her mouth, rich, fragrant, and so impossibly good. A moan slipped out before she could stop herself. Azel's blood had tasted bitter and dark and…wrong. Gunner made her body sing, made her want to get closer, made her want to touch.
Her hands moved over his chest all on their own. She whimpered and moaned and wriggled closer. She’d been doing it more with each feed, getting used to her body’s reaction to feeding from Gunner and finding it harder and harder to resist what it wanted.
Gunner's hands were suddenly on her hips, holding her still. Had she been moving them? She ached between her thighs and wanted pressure there, needed it. She squeezed her legs together the way she had the last few nights, but the ache grew more intense and her breasts felt full and tight, her nipples tingling.
“Fuck,” Gunner muttered, startling her.
Oh shit, she’d taken more than enough blood, and more time had passed than she’d realized as she’d relished the feeling that feeding from Gunner gave her.
She licked the puncture wound quickly. “Sorry…I’m sorry.”
His fingers flexed against her hips. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Luna.” He cleared his throat. “But I better head back to my room.”
He stood and Luna had to stop herself from reaching for him. “You can’t stay a little longer?” God, she sounded needy, pathetic, but he usually stayed for a while and held her afterward.
Her handsome knight ran his hand over his short hair, cheeks flushed, chest pumping hard. “Not tonight, love, I just…I’m tired. You need anything, anything at all, come find me, okay?”
“Because we’re friends, right?” She didn’t know why she asked, but she needed to hear it. She needed to know she was more than just another demi-demon to him, that she was more than that.
His hands went to his hips, and his nostrils flared. “Yeah, Luna, we’re friends.”
“And friends look out for each other, do things for the other when their friends need them.”
His eyes darkened. “That’s exactly what they do. You need something from me?”
She shook her head, not sure how to ask for what she wanted. How could she when she didn’t know exactly what it was? “No, I’m…I’m fine.”
He stood there for several long seconds, then finally took a step back. “Okay, well, night, love.”
“Night,” she whispered.
Then he walked away and out the door.
She wanted to call after him, beg him to come back. The restlessness inside her had only grown and she didn’t understand it, or why it made her want Gunner closer. Not just physically. In every way.
She scrambled off the bed and paced, not knowing what to do with herself. In the end, she took a shower to try to ease whatever this was. But by the end of her shower, the feeling swirling inside her had grown worse.
The hot water over her naked skin was now too much, something she had barely registered in the past. The way the soapy washcloth moved over her nipples made her shudder, and they were tight and tingly, the color darker than she’d ever seen before.
Dressing was torture. The texture of fabric on her oversensitized skin had her moaning. And there was a longing inside her that she didn’t know what to do with, or how to make it stop.
And one thought kept swimming around inside her head, over and over, until she couldn’t take it anymore, until she walked out of her room and up one flight of stairs to Gunner’s door.