Page 10 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“Nope,” she said, resting her hand in his.

The second their skin touched, she felt something curl in her core. Sharp and hot and wicked. He ran a practiced finger over the healed bite mark, which only wound the coil tighter.

Not sexy! She reminded herself.

“No dizziness or discomfort?” he asked.

“Nope.” She looked away, as he started massaging her palm. Were there pressure points she didn’t know about? There must be a reason he did it, but she wasn’t sure she trusted her voice to ask.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked up to find him watching her, concern etched on his handsome face. It was an effort not to snap, not to tell him to get on with it so she could go home and die of embarrassment in peace.

Instead, she said, “I’m fine, really.” Her voice was a little high, but at least it didn’t shake like it had their last appointment. She took a breath. This was ridiculous.

“Promise?” he asked, head tilted, lip curling in a fangless smile.

“Promise.”

“May I?”

She nodded and he raised her wrist to his mouth.

Cool breath ghosted over her skin, then his lips, then teeth, and throughout it all she felt his eyes, always watching. Dilated and endless. She winced at the sharp pain, a tiny squeak escaping her before his teeth withdrew and he started drinking.

At least she knew what to expect this time, but her reaction was just as bad. Worse even.

Don’t think sexy thoughts! Don’t think sexy thoughts!

She stole a glance at him and immediately regretted it. His stare cut straight through her, straight to her burning soul.

Turning her gaze to the worn carpet beneath her feet, she mentally listed as many cities as she could.

Ashhaven

Stonehaven

His tongue moved against her, lapping and sucking.

Highhaven

Rookhaven

Lips, firm but soft, moulded to her flesh.

Salthaven

Briarhaven

Cool breath, hot mouth.

Duskhaven

Bloodhaven