Page 106 of Dark Souls

Bile rose in my throat at the thought and tears sprung to my eyes. I pulled out the plug, allowing the bloody water to disappear down the drain as I grabbed a towel and pressed it against his wounds. His heartbeat was fading by the second and in a blind panic, I unsheathed my fangs and bit into my wrist, shoving it against his mouth as his head lolled to the side over the rim of the bath.

“Drink, goddammit!” I demanded, squeezing more blood into his mouth and coating his lips. “Drink! You do not get to fucking die on me. Do you hear me? Drink!”

It felt like forever until a groan came from his lips and his fangs sank into my flesh, locking his mouth around my wrist as he took slow, sluggish gulps of my blood. I exhaled in relief as he pulled on my vein more frantically, his hand snapping up and pressing my arm into his mouth with feverish need. I sat back on the floorboards as the adrenaline and pure panic as well as how ravenous he was becoming at the taste of my blood made me lightheaded. With my other hand raking through his wet red hair, I pressed my forehead against his temple as my lips parted when the sensations turned into pleasure. He groaned erotically; the sound causing instant wetness between my legs as I peered down the length of his body to see his dick hardening.

As he regained consciousness, I pulled my head back to see a violent haze of madness had taken hold of him. As fast as a lightning strike, he was out of the bath and had tackled me down, slamming my back against the floorboards. My dress was ripped to shreds before his hand wrapped around my neck and crazed red eyes bore into mine. His sharp fangs were dripping with my blood while our rapid breaths blended together. In one thrust, he was inside me, causing me to cry out at the sudden fullness as my back arched, pressing me against his weight. He roared before sinking his fangs into my neck, taking long swallows of my blood as my eyes rolled back into my head. He was so voracious and untamed. I locked my legs around his waist as he pounded into my body with savagery, sparing nothing. The ferociousness of his thrusts stole the air out of my lungs as he took me with him to the depths of his darkness.

His solid body, hard, heavy and ruthless in its power, pinned me down. Knowing I had nowhere to go and was completely at his mercy, I gave in to the pooling heat coiling in my belly and screamed out my orgasm as he pumped his hips with insane speed, growling into my neck as he took every drop he needed. In the next thrust, he released his bite, lifting his head and roaring so loud I swear the old manor shook as blood dripped down his chin and the hot jets of his cum filled me. He fell down on top of me, crushing me under his weight as I stared up at the ceiling over his shoulder, both of us panting heavily but otherwise completely still.

It took me a moment to regain my senses and with it came a flurry of emotions.What the hell was that? What just happened? Why did he do that to himself?Now that I knew he would live, concern mixed with rage as I swallowed thickly to keep the hurt from forming tears in my eyes and shoved him off me. He rolled, falling to my side on the floor, still trying to catch his breath. I stood up abruptly, ridding the scraps of my dress from my body and allowed my gaze to drift over him. His beautiful body was a mess. Deep cuts that had stopped bleeding but weren’t healing adorned his skin. We stared at each other; the silence loaded and suffocating as his red eyes held mine with no emotion on his stoic face.

My nostrils flared. Did he really just try to kill himself and then fuck me? Why was he like this? Would I ever know what was really going on in his head? Or would this always be the way it was between us?

I turned, storming out of the bathroom and grabbing one of his shirts to throw on, seeing as he’d ruined my own clothes. I started pacing the desolate, creepy bedroom and tapping my fingers against my thighs as I waited for him to emerge. We couldn’t carry on like this. I needed answers. I need to know him. To understand him. The real him. The one that I see glimpses of in the rarest of moments. Moments he doesn’t even know he has. But I was at a loss. And I was realising just how fucking deep I was in this. Because when I saw him unconscious in that bath… my world shifted on its axis. I’d never panic like that. Even when my life had been hanging in the balance in Heroux, I didn’t feel the same fear seeing him like that caused. And I didn’t know how I was supposed to handle it or deal with this situation at all. I wasn’t a very empathetic person to begin with, tough love was normally my go to. But he needed help. Yet, I didn’t have the slightest clue how to help him, and it was breaking me into pieces.

When he finally appeared, completely naked and drying his hair with a towel, I paused, staring at him hard. He looked so… unfazed. As if none of that had even happened. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides.

“You came back,” he said casually, throwing the towel over the desk chair and grabbing a pair of black jogging bottoms. As he tugged them on, my eyes fell to the outline of his perfect dick and I groaned internally. Was he using every means possible to distract me from talking about what just happened? Well, it would not work. Not this time. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“So, what? You tried to kill yourself?” Disbelief made me shout, unable to keep the hurt and pain at bay. I stormed towards him and grabbed one of his arms. I held it up between us to show him the cuts, and he looked down at them as if seeing them for the first time. I waited for a reaction. For an explanation. For emotion. Anything. But he just removed his arm from my grasp and looked into my eyes.

“No.”

“So you weren’t trying to kill yourself?”

“No.”

I frowned deeply, folding my arms over my chest.

“Do you want a drink? I could use a drink,” he said, walking around me and out of the bedroom. I stared after him, completely bewildered, before I snapped.

“No! I do not what a fucking drink, Luka! I want to talk to you!” I raced out the door after him as he made his way down the stairs barefoot and headed towards the kitchen, bypassing those eerie portraits without even a glance. “Stop walking away from me!”

“I’m not,” he answered without looking back. “I’m getting a drink, like I said. Do you want one?” He pulled out a bottle of neat vodka, his go-to beverage I had noticed, and grabbed two glasses, placing them on the kitchen island. He filled them up, ignoring my piercing gaze from the doorway, and then downed his completely before refilling.

I didn’t speak. I waited for him to look at me. When he finally did, his burning gaze locked with mine, and he didn’t look away even though he could see all the emotions on my face. He licked his lips before taking another sip of vodka. Clearly, we were both as stubborn as each other. This could be a long night, but he’d met his match if he thought I would let this go.

He sighed, running his hand through his red hair, which made all his delicious muscles bulge under his scarred skin. My heart lurched once more at the memory of how he’d got them. I’d noticed a few faded scars hidden under his tattoos before, but now I couldn’t unsee them. Or how many there really were.

“You shouldn’t have seen that. I’m sorry. But don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your pity.”

My eyebrows furrowed. I stepped into the room, my instinct to be closer to him driving me forward.

“I’m not looking at you with pity. I just… I’m trying to understand. Why would you do that? Hurt yourself like that? The scars… do you cut yourself? Often?” I tried to keep the softness out of my voice, knowing he didn’t want my concern, but it was damn near impossible.

He turned his back on me, placing his hands on the kitchen top as his shoulders bunched, and he stared out of the window.

I walked over to him until I was behind his solid back. I didn’t know what I was doing or how to get through to him to make him realise I wasn’t giving up, so instead, I just followed my instincts. My fingertips traced his scars tenderly, and he spun around, grabbing my wrist.

His fiery gaze stared down at me as he worked the muscles in his jaw. “Don’t.”

I peered up at him, stepping in closer as his hand on my wrist tightened in warning. I held his gaze and I placed a gentle kiss against one of the fresh cuts on his chest. His eyes slammed closed.

“What are you doing?” he snarled between his fangs as I continued to kiss every fresh cut on the surface of his skin.

“Kissing them better,” I whispered. He opened his eyes as his gorgeous face scrunched up with a flicker of recognition. “Just like your mama used.”

His eyes widened, and he jolted away from me in surprise. “What did you say?” he hissed, anger radiating off him in waves. I swallowed as I lifted my chin, meeting his anger with calmness.