Page 25 of His Eternal Temptation

“That didn’t answer my question.”

Damn him. “I’m up for it.” Lane met Rowan’s stare with all the defiance he could muster, then admitted, “I’ve never done this before. Not counting last night.”

Rowan’s lips twitched. Was he trying not to smile? Lanes’s stomach flipped, which was so not helping.

“There’s no need for nerves,” Rowan said, almost softly. “It won’t hurt more than giving blood.”

Yeah, pain wasn’t what had Lane worried. Vampire bites were supposed to be erotic. Orgasm inducing. Better than sex if the vampire was powerful enough.

That fateful party had been an orgy. A biting and sex party. When vampires fed on live donors, it was most often sexual. And exchanging blood? Vampires rarely gave during feeding, unless they were with longtime lovers. Obviously, last night had been an emergency, and vampires donated blood to save people when they could, but what they were talking about now felt distinctly different.

“How, uh, will we do this?” Lane’s voice was too soft, and he cleared his throat.

Rowan’s brow creased. “I don’t have to bite you. We can call Hunter back to the building and have him draw blood. I should have asked before he left.”

Lane wasn’t sure if he was disappointed the doctor had gone or perversely grateful a bite was the more practical choice. He found himself saying, “There’s no need to bother him if he’s gone.”

Rowan gave a curt nod. “I’m sure he’d appreciate being undisturbed in his lab. He isn’t here every day, but if there’s a next time, we can get his assistance. Would you like to drink from a glass?” His gaze flicked to a set of tumblers and several decanters on an old-timey drink cart.

Lane’s stomach turned, erotic thoughts shriveling to nothing. “Not after earlier. I’m not usually squeamish, but if I have to watch blood fill a cup…” He shuddered, glad his stomach was empty.

“It’s easier for non-vampires to drink from the vein,” Rowan agreed, his voice lower than before, and nowhere near neutral.

Now who was getting distracted by what they were about to do? Lane’s pride soaked up the small ego boost like a flower in the sun. Rowan wasn’t as unaffected as he acted.

Lane wished this were happening under very different circumstances. Ones where they trusted each other. Liked each other. In a world where he knew why Rowan’s tone had shifted and what he was thinking.

He forced the longing away.

Rowan stood and gestured for Lane to follow suit. “I won’t influence your feelings through the bite,” he said, voice unmistakably low now, even if his posture was all business.

Lane rose from his chair, his posture stiff. “Holding back is possible?”

“Of course.” He sounded matter-of-fact, but too throaty to be indifferent. “I didn’t intend to arouse you last night. You’d have felt nothing but the discomfort of giving blood if you’d been awake.”

Lane’s face heated. Fuck, you’d think he was a blushing virgin. He wasn’t, and he’d soured on the idea of vampire sex after Rowan’s rejection and the following mess. He should remember that now. This was nothing but a necessity.

Rowan hadn’t put on a suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves with deft movements, exposing strong forearms. “Would you like to give or drink first?”

“Drink,” Lane said quickly. Imagining Rowan’s blood in his mouth twisted his stomach. With any luck, the strangeness would kill his growing interest in Rowan drinking from him and all the fun side effects he was missing out on.

“Very well.” Rowan took a step closer, heat seeming to radiate off him. His eyes glowed as they locked on Lane’s, and he bared his teeth, his canines elongating.

Lane’s core tensed involuntarily.

Rowan brought his wrist to his mouth and bit without breaking eye contact. “Here.” He offered his bleeding flesh, and Lane stepped closer, grabbing hold. He swallowed, his insides in knots, and covered the bite with his lips.

“Suck,” Rowan commanded, the order carrying an odd stiffness, as if he didn’t usually tell people what to do.

He was the leader of a powerful coven. Of course he told people what to do, but perhaps he didn’t in more intimate circumstances.

Arousal shot through Lane at the idea of Rowan submitting to his commands. Of letting Lane bite him to assert his claim. Oh, shit. He could not go there, even in his mind.

Lane gave Rowan a defiant look, full of challenge, to prove he was unaffected by this, and to make it clear he wasn’t a fan of being ordered around in bed. Except, wait, no. They weren’t in bed.

Fuck.

He drank, and blood flowed into his mouth, coppery and thick, an unexpected hint of something floral brightening the flavor.