Page 107 of Blood Lovers

“What?” I make a face. But he’s already lifting my t-shirt up. I drop my jacket on the wet ground so he can pull it over my head. “The long drink? Isn’t that how you kill the feeders?”

“It’s good for that, yes. But it’s good for all sorts of other things too.” He’s got the button of my jeans open, unzipping me now. He’s gazing into my eyes. They flash lavender again.

And suddenly, I’m tired of fighting him.

Why? Why should I? What is the point? There’s no coming back from this. It’s not like resisting him is some kind of virtue. It won’t save my soul. I gave that to him when I agreed to let him turn me.

Paul pushes me backward, his hand flat on my bare chest. Still smiling.

It take those steps backward until I bump into the trunk of a tree. I look up and the expanse of palm fronds flowing out over us like an umbrella, and when I look back down, he’s kissing me. Blood already on his lips from the bite.

I almost fall down from the lust.

But if I fall, I’ll miss out.

And I want his blood. I want it more than anything right now.

His hand pushes against my thigh. My dick is hard under my jeans and he presses into it, feeling the length of me through the thick fabric. Then he takes my hand and wraps it around the shaft of his dick, helping me slowly jerk him off.

He bites his lip again and I kiss him harder. I jerk him harder. And then his hand slips inside my pants and pulls me out. He presses forward, his hips right up against mine, and, using both hands, he wraps my palm around us both.

Another bite, more blood, and I am rapidly losing control.

No. I’ve already lost control.

Paul pulls back, breaking the seal of our lips. “Bite me, Ryet. Right now. Anywhere you want. My neck, the inside of my thigh, my—”

That’s as much as I hear. Because my mouth is on his neck, my teeth—suddenly sharp, like his—biting into his flesh. The rush of blood is so hard and so fast I get dizzy as it floods my mouth.

Paul is petting me, soothing me as I suck on him. And then a noise burbles up from my throat. It’s something I’ve heard him do, but it’s new to me.

It’s a growl. An animalistic growl. And just as this happens, I pull back, my chin dripping with blood, my whole body hot, my eyes burning, and my fingertips tingling as we hold each other’s cocks in our palms. His fist is bumping against my stomach, my fist bumping against his.

I am chaos and he is calm.

How does he do that?

He kisses me, softly. Lightly. And then he drags his lips down my exposed neck, opens wide, and bites me for a drink.

The next thing I know, I’m on the ground. Paul’s naked body is on top of me, holding me down as I kick and fight, trying to push him off me. But he’s much stronger and there is no hope.

And anyway, the struggle is turning me on. I thrust my hips into him, grinding on him as he feeds on me, reaching for my cock so I can get myself off.

But all the while, I am growling. Snarling.

Like an animal.

Or maybe a demon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - PAUL

A fresh start.

My heart beats faster at the sight of Ryet’s blood lust.

But it’s more than just blood lust now. It’s a true sign of his turning. Finally, after hundreds of years of trying—of inbreeding, outbreeding, crossing, outcrossing, and yes, so many, many culls—finally, Josep has done it.

But the success is not only his.