Page 81 of Bite

“They are when you own the damn company responsible for it,” she snaps. “You should’ve told me, James.”

The car glides through traffic in a stretch of silence thick enough to choke on. Sunlight cuts off the glass towers outside, turning each reflection into a blade. I don’t look away from her, even when she turns back toward the window.

“You’ve fucked Francesca, haven’t you?” she asks quietly.

“Yes.”

Another pause.

“Just once,” she murmurs, “or did your one-and-done rule only apply to blood?”

“More than once.”

She swallows thickly, the movement tight in her throat. “So just the blood, then.”

“In a pinch, I’ve resorted to feeding twice from the same source,” I admit. “Never more frequently than that. Not until you.”

“Why?” she croaks, flickering me a sidelong glance. “Whyme, James?”

I grind my molars, far too tempted to tell her the truth, but instead settling for a vague version of it. “Because your blood is uniquely palatable to me.”

She goes quiet for a long moment. Her gaze drifts to the window, then the car interior, searching for something to fixate on that isn’t me. When her eyes finally meet mine again, they’re harder. Colder.

“Is there anything else I should know?” she grits out. “Or do I have to wait for Fran to spill all your secrets?”

She’s jealous.

Interesting.

I exhale slowly, tightening the leash on my temper. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve got centuries of history.”

“And yet I still don’t know a damn thing about you!” she snaps, whirling on me. “I don’t know where you’re from, how old you are, what you were before all this. You never talk about yourself. You just… feed and fuck. And bark orders about when and how I can serve you.”

Irritation flares sharp in my chest, but I force myself to remain calm, keeping my tone cool. “You didn’t know any of that when you signed the contract, either.” I remind her. “Willingly, as I recall. You seemed perfectly content with the fact I was a stranger.”

“That was before…” She cuts herself off, turning away.

“Before what?” I growl.

Her eyes catch mine in the reflection of the glass. “Before you started fucking me like I’m yours.”

I move before she can blink– closing the distance, sliding an arm behind her back, and drawing her effortlessly onto my lap. “You were mine long before I started fucking you,” I snarl, catching her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I knew you were mine from the first taste,mea dulcis. The rest was mere formality.”

Her breath hitches, but her eyes still blaze with defiance. “My blood or my body?”

“Both,” I reply simply.

My hand drifts to her throat, fingers splaying lightly across the delicate slope of her neck. Her pulse jumps beneath my palm; a fragile thrum of life I could extinguish in an instant.

“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear?” I murmur, my other hand gliding up the inside of her thigh.

Her hand comes down on mine, peeling it away. “That’s not what the contract said,” she mutters with a stubborn lift of her chin. “I didn’t sign up to be some kept woman while you go out and do whatever– or whoever– you want.”

“That’s exactly what you signed up for,” I deadpan. “But rest assured, my desires are very singular these days.”

“Meaning?”

I drag my thumb across her lower lip, watching the way it trembles under my touch. “Nothing turns me on quite like possessing you does. I’ve never been interested in monogamy, but if that’s what you’re after…”