"Have no fear."

His voice was low, almost a growl, as his hand threaded through the thick mass of her hair. The sensuous friction of her br**sts against his chest, rising and falling from her rapid breathing, intensified his craving to explore all of her. Thoroughly, relentlessly, and slowly. But though he held her far closer than necessary, his hands remained on her back and on her head, holding her steady instead of learning the tantalizing curves of her body.

She gasped when Mencheres sealed his mouth over her neck, sucking on it with slow, steady pressure. He didn't pierce her yet, but readied her for his bite, bringing that smaller, succulent vein closer to the surface. His eyes closed at the lemony nectar taste of her skin, the way her pulse leapt against his mouth, and at the shiver that raced all over her body. Her scent enveloped him, a mixture of apprehension, hesitation . . . and something else. Excitement.

A dark thril of triumph washed over Mencheres. She might not be aware of it, but a part of Kira yearned for him to bite her for reasons that had nothing to do with her sister.

You want to be claimed this way, he thought, flicking his tongue across her neck once more. And you shall be. Now.

His fangs sank into her flesh in the next instant.

Chapter 7

Everything in Kira froze at the feel of those sharp fangs puncturing her skin, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next. Instead of pain, a cascade of pure sensation flowed over her. Sweet, luscious warmth seemed to spread slowly from her neck, down her shoulders, and lower, until it felt like her body was submerged in heated chocolate. All her worries drained away in such a rush that she felt dizzy, only realizing how heavy the stress had been when it was no longer there to weigh her down.

Something thick and silky threaded through her fingers. After a hazy moment, Kira realized she'd raised her arms and was now gripping Mencheres's hair. He made a deep, guttural sound that vibrated against her neck as he swallowed. My blood.

Mencheres is swallowing my blood.

The thought should have frightened her, or at the very least, made her uneasy, but Kira found herself pressing closer to him instead. Shards of pleasure spiked in her as his fangs slid deeper in response. The heat spreading through her began to swirl and concentrate in one spot, making her gasp at the sudden intense need in her loins. Her hands tangled tighter in his hair while a dark, inexplicable urge had Kira rubbing her neck against his mouth.

Pleasure stabbed into her with enough impact to make her gasp as his fangs slid into her again. She heard herself moaning. Felt another dizzying sweep of heat. How could a bite be responsible for so much bliss?

Mencheres lifted his head all too soon, leaving cool air on her throat instead of the hard, sensual pressure of his mouth. The firm caress of his hands on her back and head vanished, too, resulting in disappointing emptiness instead of the feel of him gripping her.

She didn't even think before she yanked his head back down to her neck. "Don't stop," she gasped.

A harsh noise escaped him as his tongue slid a long, slow path across the spot on her throat where he'd bitten her.

"You don't really mean that."

Like hell she didn't. She needed more of that wonderful, seeking heat flooding all through her. More of him touching her. Her br**sts rubbed against the muscled wall of Mencheres's chest as she tightened her grip on his head, keeping him cradled in the crook of her neck.

His hands reached up, clasping her wrists in a gentle yet unbreakable hold as he lifted his head away from her. That clawing need in her began to ebb, leaving behind a warm, light-headed lethargy, as if she'd just emerged from a hot tub after breathing nitrous oxide.

Kira swayed as a tingling wave of dizziness overtook her. Mencheres lifted her, then she was placed on something soft. She opened her eyes to find that he'd moved them over to the couch. She expected his mouth to be stained red, or to see crimson trails zigzagging down his face, but nothing marred his strikingly handsome features. His eyes were still bright emerald green, meeting hers with an intensity she couldn't name.

And she had not the slightest idea of what to say. The uninhibited feelings that had led her to shove Mencheres's head to her throat, demanding that he bite her again, had faded, leaving Kira torn. Was her impassioned reaction just what happened to everyone Mencheres bit? Was that why he'd said she didn't really mean it when she'd told him not to stop?

Or had she not wanted him to stop because the vampire's bite was an excuse to act on the desire she felt toward him? She certainly wouldn't let her unhealthy attraction loose under any other circumstances. No matter how well-intentioned his actions were, he was still her captor - her inhuman captor. She wasn't about to further complicate an already-twisted situation.

"Are you feeling better now?" Mencheres asked, none of her discomfiture coloring his tone.

Kira looked away, taking in a deep breath. She noticed her heart wasn't racing anymore. In fact, it had the same relaxed cadence as if she'd just woken up.

"Fine." Then she forced herself to ask, "Is that whole 'more, more!' response common when you bite someone? Or do I owe you an apology?"

Mencheres moved away from her before he answered. "It is very common." His tone was so stiff that Kira shot a glance at him. His face was utterly closed off, as expressionless as a statue. Why would you expect anything different? she asked herself. This might be a new experience for her, but Mencheres must bite a different person every day. The only reason he wasn't yawning was probably because he didn't need to breathe.

Then abruptly, he was kneeling in front of her, his hand cupping her face and his green eyes blazing into hers.

"Nothing happened, Kira. I did not bite you. You did not come back to my house. You went home from work Tuesday morning, and you have been ill in your bed ever since." A strange thickness pressed on her mind as his voice seemed to vibrate through her.

For a split second, Kira felt elated. It must be finally working! But just as quickly, dismay swept over her. If it was, then she would forget Mencheres. She'd never even realize she'd met him . . .

She blinked, and that insistent pressure vanished from her mind. Mencheres's eyes were still locked onto her, so bright they didn't even seem real; but she no longer felt the urge to fall inside their glow.

"It's not working." The strangest feeling washed over her. Regret? Relief? Kira let it go before she could determine which.

Mencheres was across the room with his back to her before her next blink. Nothing from the square set of his shoulders gave her any indication of what he was thinking.

"We try again in two days," he said.




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