to his mouth, eyes still trained on mine, then bit down, breaking the flesh.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. “You just bit yourself.”
Blood began to seep from the puncture before he thrust his wrist at me. “Drink. It will heal you.”
“No, thanks,” I said, tensing again. Just like the last time he’d offered me his blood, I felt pulled in, entranced by the allure of it.
“Just drink, Tegan. I can tell you’re in pain.”
On instinct, I licked my lips. “Does this mean we’re friends again?”
His expression was infuriatingly blank. “You and I will never be friends,” he replied coldly, and the statement cut me to the quick.
“Well, that’s very definitive. I thought that maybe with time you could bring yourself to forgive—”
“Friends do not want each other as we do,” he said, cutting me off and causing butterflies to fill my stomach. “And no, you are not forgiven, but that doesn’t mean I want you to be in physical pain. Now drink.”
I stared at him, gobsmacked. I’d barely heard the bit about me not being forgiven because I was too fixated on the part about him wanting me. He still wanted me. The thought made me feel hot all over. It also gave me hope that one day things could be different between us.
I glanced at his wrist again, and it was like someone cast a spell on me. I leaned closer, and before I knew it, my mouth had latched onto him and the sweet nectar that was his blood slithered down my throat. A small hiss escaped him at the contact, and arousal swept through me.
At first, I drank tentatively, but when the honey-sweet taste hit my tongue, I started to take much deeper gulps. I was vaguely aware of him groaning and shifting closer, but I was too consumed by his blood to be fully aware of what was happening.
A second later, he picked me up and flipped me across the room, caging me against the wall. Ethan pressed his body flush with mine as I continued to drink from him. I opened my eyes, and our gazes locked. Sexual energy thickened the air. He ran the tip of his nose up the side of my neck softly, as though tracing the line of a vein.
My injuries receded, my pain easing, while Ethan’s hand slid under my T-shirt, his palm smoothing out over my bare stomach. I didn’t need pain relief any longer, but I did need a different kind of relief. I felt like I might burst if he didn’t fuck me right there and then, but I saw the moment when his logic returned and he clamped his hand onto my jaw, easing my mouth away from his wrist. I withdrew with a whimper, blood dripping down my chin. Ethan’s fangs were still extended, and I could tell it took every ounce of his willpower to back away from me.
He left me standing breathless by the wall as he returned to the edge of the tub, never dropping my gaze. It took a moment before I gained any level of coherent thought.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Did I drink too much?”
Ethan practically growled his response. “No.”
A shiver skittered down my spine. “Okay, well, thank you. The pain is gone. I’m completely healed.”
“You’re welcome.” Now I couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill me or shag me.
I dragged my eyes from his as I approached the sink and turned on the tap to wash the blood from my chin. I was practically trembling, half because of his blood coursing through my system and half because of his intensity as he watched my every movement.
It was like being locked in a bathroom with an uncaged tiger and having no idea whether or not he was hungry. Okay, I tell a lie. Judging from the look in his eyes, Ethan was ravenous.
“How do you feel?” he asked as I splashed warm water over my face. “You drank more than you did the last time I healed you.”
I turned off the tap and grabbed a towel to dry my face. “I feel …” I trailed off, because I couldn’t tell him the truth. The truth was that I felt like tearing all his clothes off and mounting him on the bathroom floor. I knew his blood formed a connection between us, one that would last a month or two. That was why I felt so aroused. It wasn’t real.