Damian's Oracle

"Don't stop," he urged, his voice huskier, lower. "Drink."

She closed her eyes and drank. When she pulled back at last, she sat in a daze, fulfilled and content yet unable to shake the horror of what she'd done. Damian had turned his face away and was clenching a thick knuckle between his teeth.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, appalled.

"No," he grated. "Are you done?"

"Yes."

"You better go." Something in his voice compelled her to hurry. Sofia fled to her room, amazed at how good she felt. She was no longer hungry, and she felt energized, fulfilled.

Guilty.

How long could she live like this, drinking someone else's blood?

It was still sooooo wrong!

She tried to sift through her emotions before she returned to his door. He opened it before she knocked, dressed for sparring in his judo pants and nothing else. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from devouring his body with her eyes.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay," she said. "And … I'm okay, right?"

"We're cool," he said, pushing himself away from the doorframe. "Whenever you're hungry, you can come by."

He was guarded again. She felt like the morning after a drunk, one night stand. What did she say after the most awkward experience of her life? The thought of his blood lit her afire, almost as much as the sight of his bare chest.

What would sleeping with him while drinking from him be like? She backed away from his door, wondering how that deviant thought emerged. Han eyed her as she hurried past him toward the library. Dressed for sparring, he waited with Grande and Pierre for Damian.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"You always ask me that. If I'm not, you'll know," she replied curtly.

"Very well, ikira."

She glared at him, sensing his amusement. Damian trotted down the stairs. She didn't look at him until his back was to her on their way toward the door. As if feeling her gaze on him, he paused at the door.

"If you ever want to try it, let me know."

"Try what? Sparring?"

Screwing and drinking. His voice was as clear in her mind as if he spoke the words. She sucked in a sharp breath, at once confused and thrilled. Without looking at her, he strode through the doors into the courtyard.

"I do not understand you," she whispered after him. His simple words turned her inside out, and yet, what would he want with a woman like her? If he was what Han claimed-king, lord, master of the entire damn universe-wouldn't he take the supermodel of his choice?