Page 58

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Mate, I already have a height advantage, and it doesn’t matter how much leverage you give me. If you want to take control, I don’t stand a chance. I know that. The whole point is, I trust you not to.”

The words ring through the air with a depth of meaning I didn’t intend to give them. At least, I don’t think I did. They’re true, though. I do trust Tristan, whatever that means. He might be a vampire, and sure, there are times he’s fucking terrifying, but he’s never hurt me, and he goes out of his way to make sure I feel safe when he’s feeding. Maybe I shouldn’t trust him with everything, but I’m confident I can trust him with this.

He shakes his head. “I appreciate that, but I⁠—”

“Fine.” I don’t want to waste more time on this. I slide across the couch and get onto my knees, then sit back on my heels. It makes the height difference between us more pronounced and puts his face level with my throat.

My pulse speeds up.

He turns sideways, angling himself so he can better reach me. “Are you ready?” His warm breath ghosts over my skin.

“Yes,” I croak, pushing down every atom of fear. I want this. I need this. “I’m r—ahh…”

His fangs pierce my neck, and my whole body shudders, the sensation somehow sharper than in my wrist. Then he begins to suck, and I gasp.

Cat was right. This is more intimate—way more intimate. Even though his hands aren’t touching me, our bodies are so much closer than usual, his face pressed into the sensitive skin of my throat, and every suck stirs sensations I normally associate with a different activity. My dick is getting hard, but I don’t care. Impulsively, I lift my hands to cradle his head against me and move to straddle his legs. Tristan makes a sound—half surprise, half protest—but doesn’t stop.

I sit astride his lap, panting as he draws the blood from my veins, barely resisting the urge to hump against him. This was a mistake.

This is the best experience of my life.

Too soon—far sooner than usual—he slows, and then his fangs slide from my body and his tongue laves my tender skin. Shaky breaths wheeze from me as I let go of his head, and he tips it back to meet my gaze.

His lips are stained with my blood.

I’m kissing him before I know it, lightly, a mere touch of my mouth to his. It’s not sexual—it’s not—but it is. How can it not be? I’ve been more intimate with him, this vampire who is sustained by my life’s blood, than with any other man. It’s only right that we share this too.

I taste myself on him, and while I’ll never hunger for the flavour of blood, it’s not unpleasant. Is that the Barale element or the fact that it’s Tristan I’m kissing? The kiss deepens—I deepen it—as I slide my tongue between his lips, wanting more, wanting⁠—

Fang.

That’s a fang.

Reality crashes into me, and I jerk back, scrambling off his lap. Too late, I realise that his hands are still by his sides. He never touched me, never tried to prolong our contact—never responded to our kiss.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” I stutter. What have I done? This was supposed to save my career, not hasten its end. Desperately, I try to remember if our contract had anything in it about sexual harassment. It must have… right?

“Go to bed,” Tristan orders softly, not moving from the couch. I hesitate, wanting to apologise again, wanting assurances that I haven’t fucked everything up, but in the end, I go.

It’s not until I’m back in my own bed, huddled under the covers, that I press my fingers to my neck and let myself remember how it felt to have Tristan’s mouth there.

And wonder if I’ll ever feel it again.

It’s late when I wake, the light filtering around the curtains strong. I can hear distant sounds from the street and downstairs, and I stretch, wondering if this is the last time I’ll wake up as a feeder. Maybe I can get a contract with someone else if Tristan fires me? I cringe. Being known as the feeder Tristan got rid of won’t do good things for my reputation.

Sitting up, I check the time and see it’s just after ten. There’s a message waiting for me from Adrian, and I open it, expecting him to be checking on me after last night, maybe asking for me to confirm dinner plans.

Adrian:

I’m impressed. Tristan works fast.

I blink rapidly a few times. How did he know? And should I correct him, tell him it was all me, that Tristan didn’t…

No, wait. There’s no way Adrian can know I kissed Tristan last night, not unless Tristan himself is telling people, which he wouldn’t do. This is something else. Something Adrian thinks I know about.

I get out of bed, duck into the bathroom to piss and brush my teeth, then put on yesterday’s jeans and a hoodie, carefully avoiding the remnants of my new suit. The pants should be fine, and maybe the jacket can be repaired, but I’d rather not ever wear it again. I’ll ask Clive to get rid of it for me.

Downstairs, I don’t hear Tristan and Pierce in the office at the front of the house. Maybe they’ve gone out? I go through the living room and into the kitchen⁠—