Page 12 of Threads of Crimson

Supply his monthly sustenance? What in the heck was wrong with me? I sounded like an idiot.

Lysandro stared at me for so long that sweat popped out on my hairline. Was I not good enough? Did my blood smell funny?

Finally, he reached forward, picking my hand up gently, cradling it in both of his, staring down at my wrist. “Are you sure?”

A breathless yes slipped past my lips so wispy that it didn’t even sound like a word, but Lysandro’s lips twitched in amusement again. I didn’t know what I was doing that he found so funny, but it had to be a good sign.

I’d seen him make plenty of the donors giggle or laugh, putting them at ease before he drank from them, but his face always remained smooth, passive, clear of any type of emotion. Trust me, I knew, because I’d watched him like a hawk whenever he was near.

His eyes locked with mine again, swirling with a smoky red. I’d never seen anyone else’s do that. Not unless it was two vampires facing off, but those interactions never lasted long before Ronan had them escorted out of the building.

Lysandro’s tongue came out, sweeping across his lower lip, and then his fangs descended. My pulse leapt beneath my skin so hard that I could see it. This was it. He was going to⁠—

My mind blanked as his sharp teeth struck my skin, laser sharp, with the precision of a surgeon. I’d done this time and again, and there was always that initial pinch of pain before their saliva soothed and made it a pleasant experience, but this was different.

The sting was gone before my body even had time to register it. This had never been a sexual thing for me, but I’d wondered if it would be different for me with Lysandro, and boy was it. The feel of his cold lips against my heated flesh sent my dick from plump to hard, throbbing in time to his sucking my blood right out of me in a rhythmic pull.

I was starting to understand why so many of the donors were willing to turn this into a sexual encounter. My own orgasm felt close to the surface, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

As I had the thought, Lysandro eased the pressure, gentling and sipping. My desire simmered more to a soft need instead of feeling like it was going to barrel out of me. This was heady stuff.

Slumping forward, I drank in the sight of his mouth fused to me. Lysandro didn’t normally feed on anyone more than once, so I knew this was my time, and I wanted to memorize every second to carry this moment with me. Fortunately, he wasn’t trying to kill me, which unfortunately meant that it came to an end.

For the first time, his eyelids fluttered closed as he slid his tongue over my skin, closing the bite marks and sealing them with his healing saliva.

All I could think was that I wanted his tongue so many other places. I wish he’d buried his teeth in my neck, but I’d known better than to offer that. He never fed anywhere but the wrist, and the intimacy of that would’ve had me shooting off like a teenager.

He sat up, still cradling my wrist and rubbing his thumb absentmindedly over the freshly healed skin. “Benji.”

The soft whisper of my name made me realize that I’d closed my eyes. Feeling floaty, I struggled to open them. “Yeah?”

His lips twitched so hard that I thought he might actually grin, but he schooled his features. “Make sure you drink some juice before you leave.”

“I will,” I promised, sadness obliterating all the endorphins that had been rushing through my body. He’d done what he came for, which meant it was time for him to go.

As he reached into his pocket, I shook myself out of it enough to say, “No. That was a thank you. I don’t want⁠—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “Yes. You have given me something invaluable, and you must be compensated for it.” Then he pressed an envelope into my hand and disappeared.

Lysandro

I hesitated in the alley across from Velvet Vein. I had no business back here so soon. Benji had fed me so beautifully last week, so I didn’t need another donor for a few weeks.

I’d made it my business to follow Benji for several days to assure myself that Mordie was no longer stalking him before receiving a call from Damien. Ronan had tracked the menace down after we’d spoken, making it painfully clear to him that his nonsense wouldn’t be tolerated at the club, and that I wanted to speak with him.

There’d been no sign of him since, so I was hoping he’d moved on. Preferably across the country.

So why was I here? Why wasn’t I at home reading a book or patrolling my territory? I didn’t utilize donors more than once unless I knew for sure that they weren’t the clingy type. I didn’t do long-standing relationships of any kind. I avoided commitment like the plague. Entanglements were nothing more than problems to be avoided.

And Benji, well, the way that young man’s gaze had tracked me since the first time he saw me, I knew he’d be trouble. The way his breath hitched when I entered the club, how his blood pounded through his veins when I passed by him, and the way he’d glared at my donors over the years. If he’d been prone to violence in any way, there’d be a trail of dead bodies.

Yet here I was. I hadn’t been able to get the taste of his blood out of my mind all week. The taste of pent-up passion and lust, mixed with sweetness and longing. I knew it would be that way. It was exactly why I’d never taken him up on the overt offer in his eyes to feed me. He’d wanted to supply me sustenance, and in the process, he’d awakened…something. Something I didn’t understand. Something I didn’t want to need.

Feeling the heavy weight of being observed, I looked across the street and found Ronan’s gaze locked on me. Well, shit. Now I’d have to go in. I wouldn’t have Damien’s pet reporting back that I was lurking like some kind of crazed stalker. It would give them the wrong idea.

Hardening my expression, I crossed the street, sweeping right past Ronan and made my usual entrance into the club, acknowledging no one and heading straight to my normal table. This was business as usual, except it wasn’t. It had been bad enough when I added a second day a month, but two weeks in a row was ludicrous.

What would others think? I made it a point not to dabble in the affairs of my brethren, not to befriend them in any way. The last thing I needed was for them to perceive this as me making overtures to return to the hierarchy.