Page 118 of Craving Carla

I look down at him, and something inside me stirs. There’s something different about him today. He looks... happy. Not the usual smugness I’ve come to expect, but a real, quiet happiness that makes his eyes shine. It changes his whole face, softening the sharp angles into something breathtakingly beautiful.

“I rose early because the thirst was getting to me,” he explains, his hands moving up to my calves. “I needed to feed.”

“Oh,” I say, suddenly remembering his struggle with the glass of blood at Damon’s.

He stands and opens the drawer, pulling out a pair of panties while I take the lotion from him and begin smoothing it over my arms and shoulders. When I’m done, he kneels again, holding the underwear out for me to step into. He slides them up my legs, his fingers lingering at my hips as he adjusts the fabric into place.

“I know you don’t like drinking blood that way,” I say, watching his expression carefully.

Amari stands, his eyes fixed on my breasts, a slow grin spreading across his face. “It’s not a big deal. It quenches the thirst—it just isn’t satisfying.”

He moves closer, his voice dropping to that register that sends heat pooling between my legs. “Vampires are natural predators. We love the thrill of hunting our prey.”

His fingers brush my hair away from my neck, exposing the skin there. A single finger traces the line of my throat. “Sometimes I would stalk my prey, play with the woman I selected a bit.”

“You mean fuck her,” I say bluntly.

Amari sighs, his hand dropping to his side. “Yes. But there were other times I didn’t. Sometimes I just fed.” His eyes meet mine, something vulnerable in their golden depths. “The mate bond has set into me, but you had my heart long before. I just didn’t understand it.”

He kisses me softly, then pulls back just enough to speak against my lips. “I cannot touch another woman even if I tried. The thought makes me physically ill now.”

“Can you feed from me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

Amari’s grin returns, his gaze dropping to my neck. He licks his lips, and I see the tips of his fangs peeking out. “Yes, I can.”

I swallow hard, a mix of fear and nervous energy making my heart race. “Then why don’t you?”

“Are you offering?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve done it before,” I point out. “You fed on me during sex.”

“No, that’s not the same.” He reaches out, fingers brushing over the mark on my neck. Electricity shoots through me at his touch, making me tilt my head back with a moan. “That was the claiming process. It was special.”

His eyes darken as he continues, “Feeding on you would be more erotic, more sensual. More personal.”

I look up at him, something inside me finally clicking into place. “I’m yours.”

Amari takes my wrist, bringing it to his lips. I suck in a breath, waiting for the sharp sting of his fangs, but he only presses gentle kisses to my pulse point before releasing me.

“Not now,” he says, his voice rough with restraint. “I’m satisfied with what I’ve fed on. Maybe tonight?”

A smile tugs at my lips at the sound of his words. Amari walks to the bed, running a hand over his beard as he sits on the edge, watching me finish getting dressed. I pull on my bra, then grab jeans and a t-shirt from my bag.

Once dressed, I grab my brush and run it through my hair, working out tangles before adding leave-in conditioner. I use my fingers to define my curls, scrunching them gently to bring back some of their bounce after the shower.

The whole time, I can feel Amari’s eyes on me, tracking every movement. When I look up, he’s smiling that soft smile again.

“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

He shrugs, his smile widening. “Nothing. Just admiring everything you do.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I look away, unused to such open appreciation.

“Tell me more about this cousin Angie,” he says, changing the subject.

I stiffen at the mention of her name, my hands pausing in my hair.

Amari raises an eyebrow. “You seem to do that whenever this particular cousin is mentioned.”