stool next to me. New? Really? What a tired line. I slanted a look at him without turning. The mirror behind the bar gave me a good visual.
He was lean, dark-brown eyes and hair. He possessed a boyish kind of charm, and his appearance was impeccable. His clothing was upscale and expensive. He’d shaved recently, and his fingers were long and slender. They reminded me of a musician’s hands. Beyond all of that, his lust was a potent force, shimmering off of him in waves. All of it focused on me.
I’d been hungry for the last three days, and despite wandering the various bars, I’d yet to find someone I could feast on that I wouldn’t hurt. My fault for waiting too long between feedings. I’d been leaching a little here and there to stave off the overriding need. But with full moon and the partying pagans gathering along with a huge influx of supernatural over the last two weeks, I had to play it safer.
Elias would have helped out, but we were friends, and fucking friends was usually a no-no in my book. The very last friend I’d fucked to feed on had grown obsessed, and our friendship died in the ashes of his lust.
No, I kept my feeding separate from the rest of my life. Just so much easier.
This guy…he wasn’t human. If I had to guess, I’d say vampire. He was almost too pretty to be anything else. Still…vampires were usually no gos. They wanted more than fucking, and while they could be amazing in bed, Elias had a real problem anytime I indulged my more dangerous fantasies.
Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I was so damn hungry.
“Hello,” I answered, leaning in to let his lust lick over my skin. Oh, it was delicious, and his pupils dilated as he narrowed the distance even further. I wasn’t the only one who was hungry.
Oh, this could work out.
One drink, and we were in a private booth and I had his cock halfway down my throat as he thrust up, desperate for the release as I stroked his balls. The feverish grip of his fingers in my hair pushed me to take him deeper, even as his lust swelled like his cock. When he came, it was a burst of salty bitterness and sweet satisfaction. The wildness of it swarmed through me with a punch more potent than the liquor he’d ordered for me.
His whole body shuddered as he dragged me up, and then his mouth was on mine. The fact that I could still taste his spunk—which meant he could too—amused me on some level, but it didn’t deter him in the slightest. If anything, it amplified his need.
When he shredded my panties and I climbed on him in the booth, it was a quick and furious coupling magnified by the beat of music around us. I loved the outfit, the leather dress and the sexy heels. The leather massaged my nipples as I moved, the buttery softness a fantastic counterpoint to the hardness of the cock he slammed me down on.
The guy’s technique was lacking, but fuck if he didn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. He bit my wrist after the second set of orgasms. His, not mine. He didn’t last long enough for mine, but I wasn’t here to get off so much as to just feed, and yeah, I was more than a little drunk on him.
The lust rolling off him grew more potent rather than diminishing. When he bit down on my wrist and fingered my clit until I came, I blissed out. Probably explained why I left with him, his come still sticky on my thighs, and why I let him take me back to his place.
Well that, and I wasn’t inviting him to my shitty little apartment. It might be small and cramped, but it was mine. I was saving everything to build my perfect place. I could see where I wanted it and how I wanted it to be. I was always redesigning it.
His place was much nicer and a penthouse.
Yeah, this dude was loaded.
We were three steps in the door when he was on me again, and fuck if I didn’t just go down for all that fierce snarling. He slammed me against a wall—yeah, it was kind of hot, and he had the dress pushed up as he fucked into me. When he bit my neck, I didn’t think anything about it.