Page 36 of Blood & Bedlam

“Our bodies attune to one another. The instinct of our Bonded will always be to—nourish us—desires, needs, wants. We feel each other like we feel no other. The pull is strongest before …” The words fade between us when Reine shifts in her seat. Pheromones permeate the air as her blood heats, and it’s all I can do to keep my fangs from descending.

“You mean drinking my blood? You’ve already done that, but it feels stronger than it was before.” She shivers, and I feel that deep, animalistic side of me inch closer to the surface. Her scent is everywhere, and memory assaults me, flooding my senses with how she tasted on my lips, felt around my cock. Knowing there was a barrier still between us in the dream has me needing to taste her in real time, have her fall apart when we’re both fully aware of every sensation.

“The moment we shared was real, but it was just a teaser, merely a fraction of the power it would have been if we were in the waking realm. We’ve started the process—it’s called consecration. Until we complete it, the Blood will call to us. Bloodletting is the biggest benefit of a Bond, and your body will produce more hemoglobin to sustain me, but it’s more than that. A Bonded is hardwired to cater to all of our appetites … and us to theirs.” My voice lowers near a growl but there’s a potent mix of desire thrumming through our connection, laced with curiosity and need.

“Could you kill me? When you drink?” she asks, her voice wavering only a touch. I track the movement of Reine’s eyes.

“Yes,” I whisper. The air is thick and heavy around us, but even as I tell her how much danger she’s in, Reine’s blood sings for me. It pools beneath her skin, rushing and roaring in tandem with my strokes on the rim of the glass. “I could kill you, if I drink too much. Your body is mortal, Reine. As long as it is, I’m a danger to you. The magic between us is meant to sustain you and keep you healthy so long as I never lose control.”

I can’t stop looking at her, noticing the flush of skin over her chest as I bend her blood. A soft flick of my fingers has her writhing, squeezing her thighs together. The scent of her arousal drags a groan from my chest. I know we should stop this, that I should stop this.

“But the others. Drake and Claire, Juliette and her partners. Were they mortal, too, when they met? Is that why they turned?” she pants, fisting the white tablecloth between her fingers, writhing in her seat. “How are you doing this to me?” she nearly moans. Her eyes are hooded, glassy, perfect.

My fingers move anyway.

“They were all mortal, yes. They were turned to make them stronger and harder to kill, but there were other factors. As for this”—I drag my fingers slower, torturously gently—“I can do it because your blood wants me. Because you want me too. I’ve felt it every night you’ve slept since that first taste—every time you touch yourself, it hits me like a drug. I can feel the ache of you, even now, Reine, and it’s in my draw to give you whatever you need.” Her blood pools lower, swelling the most sensitive parts of her, and fuck, I can hardly keep myself under control.

“How do we complete it? C-consecrate or whatever?” She’s doing all she can to keep her focus on me, fighting against her baser desires, and there’s something so intoxicating about that strength.

“We drink from each other three times. I imbibe your blood, and when you take my own, the magic forges us together. You’ll stop aging, heal faster, have sharper senses. There are other changes that may manifest, but those aren’t universal,” I supply, and I watch the gears turn behind her eyes.

“And my memories. Hecate said you could unlock them, if you drink. Did you see what I saw the other night?” she asks cautiously.

I shake my head. “Not in the dream—I wasn’t able to see. But here, I should be able to. Memory is in the Blood.”

“So everyone keeps saying,” she mumbles, but there’s apprehension there that pricks at me. What had she seen that has her rattled? “You’re willing to drink from me now? After being so adamant before that you wouldn’t?”

“Yes.” I nod, and it feels like a death blow to any hope I had of denying what’s between us. “They’re going to come for you, Reine. I’ll protect you, but it would be good for you to be able to protect yourself. Besides, you bit me.” I bring my fingers up to trace over her marks, and even touching them sends a shock of desire through me. “It’s already begun.”

The scrape of the metal chair against stone wrenches through the night as Reine pushes herself away from the table. I watch in wonder as she drops her chin, sliding down, fingers toying with the hem of her sundress. My body stays perfectly still, my own heartbeat thundering as Reine’s thighs fall open, pressing against the sides of her chair.

“Then give me what I need, Vladimir.”

Reine

CHAPTER 18

Never in the history of mankind has any good come from a man telling a woman how dangerous he is for her and that woman ignoring the red flags anyway, but as my thighs widen and arousal drips down my fucking leg, I feel like a goddess under Vladimir’s dark gaze.

He looks crazed, salt-and-pepper hair mussed, tie loosened around his neck. Every line of muscle is tight in his jaw, and I can see the slight peak of sharpened teeth pressing into his bottom lip. My chest arches under his starved gaze, and I know it’s a risk doing this here, letting him drink from me, but I need it. I need to know who I am, and for better or worse, what kind of woman I was before. The snippets of knocked loose memory that have come back have given me mixed signals, and while I know I was keeping something from him, I can feel it in my bones how much I loved him.

That I wouldn’t have intentionally betrayed him.

“You need to be sure of what you’re asking, mele stea.” The octave of his voice is gravel scraping against my skin, caressing me from across the table. He’s so strikingly handsome, even in his dark glory, and I flood for him, my chest arching, aching for him.

“I’m sure.”

Vladimir takes his time standing, and I wonder if he’ll reject me. Walk away for what he thinks is my own good, or for his, but the power leaking from him engulfs me, binds my body with thick lashes of shadow to the metal of the chair. Vlad stalks around the table, towering above me, his gaze an inferno over my body. He cups my cheek gently, reverently, and peers down through his slate eyes with an intensity that makes me shiver.

“What if you don’t like what we see?” The tremble in my voice is hard to ignore, the pressure in my chest too much. Vladimir’s eyes soften, his thumb caressing my lips.

“Whatever was done is done.” His voice is raw, and naive as it may be, I believe him. He lowers to his knees, dragging his hand down my throat, my chest, trailing fire in his wake. He’s a vision as he takes in my legs, rubbing his hands across them, inching the fabric of my dress higher. The growl from his chest is near constant, almost a purr while he roams over my body, working me up. Every touch, every grab and caress is torture, and I squirm in my bindings, needing more.

The warmth of the night feels cold against my soaked thighs when he pushes the dress up enough to expose me to him. I watch, starstruck, as he transforms before me, the beauty in his face otherworldly when he breathes me in.

“You smell divine, mele stea. I can’t … what if I won’t be able to hold back?” His voice breaks on the pet name that sets me ablaze, the devotion and pain it holds undoing me. I feel my heart wrench as fear that doesn’t belong to me floods my system. It’s his fear. The shadows holding my hands abate at my will, and I reach them both up to cradle his face, bringing his eyes to mine.

“You won’t hurt me. Drink,” I command. The switch flips behind his eyes and I know the moment his beast takes control. In less than a blink, the gusset of my panties shreds to pieces under a long, taloned nail, and I cry out in pleasure as Vladimir’s tongue swipes against me, his lips trailing over my skin, sucking and pulling the most incredible sensations from my body. Everything expands and contracts inside of me, my fingernails scraping against his scalp as I hold his mouth against me, writhing and grinding as he devours my fucking soul.