Page 12 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter twelve

Evelina

Minnesota Ark Prime—Moments later

M y body feels more alive with him sucking my finger than it has since the world collapsed. How do we get back to where we were before our fight? I said things. He said things. Then I did what I always do and shut down. I’m trying my best to make it up to him, but I open my eyes and see the distance he’s put between us.

That’s not what I want. I step into his space, carefully, gently, slowly—so he sees the motion—and cup his shoulders, pulling him to me, my face upturned, inviting.

“Evelina.”

“Yes?”

“I— We—” His face sets into a frown. “Last night you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Oh. Right.” I don’t want to talk about last night. I don’t want to talk at all. Talking about feelings ain’t my strong suit. “Um, I’ll find a jar and bring some honey into the kitchen for you.”

I turn away to hide my fangs and lead the way to the workshop, then wave my hand at the bench. His footsteps follow. “That’s a ten-gallon container of the stuff I already harvested. It’s, uh, good on corn bread with butter. I’ll get you some—”

“Evelina, stop.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

I pivot back around, moving so fast my hair whips across my face.

“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. About the boyfriend you lost.” He glances away. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I don’t understand…this. First, you pretend you didn’t kiss me. You pretend we haven’t been growing closer during the weeks we’ve spent together. Then you pretend we didn’t say harsh words to each other last night. You pretend you didn’t tell me I was nothing to you.” He brushes my hair back, hooking it behind my ear. “I’m… If I let you kiss me again, I’m afraid you’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

He’s right. Last night opened a deep well of pain. Watching as he crushed himself in the bin hurt so bad. I wanted nothing to do with another guy who took stupid risks with his life.

Then I woke this evening thinking about the sparks between us.

Gosh darn it! I can’t deny I’m attracted to him. I never have. It’s more than being in close quarters, sharing my home with someone for the first time in decades. And it’s more than his being the first mortal I’ve fed on in over a century.

His determination to save his sister. The idea flips in my mind—he’ll never abandon someone he loves.

Is that what really hooks me? He’ll never abandon me? Unless he kills his fool self doing something rash. And as much as I resist and try to keep my heart safe, I’m tired of running. Giving in feels so much better. “I want you. I was afraid of letting something start, and I didn’t know how to settle it.”

There. I said the truth. My truth.

His face softens. “And now?”

His perfect lips move as he speaks, but it isn’t the words I focus on. It’s the faint vibration, the pulse of blood in his veins. His succulent flesh, which I want to press against mine.

So, I do. I step right up into his space.

When my lips meet his, I sense the warm, dark wine flowing under his skin. The enticing scent beckons to me, taunting me to break the delicate pink barrier and suck the luscious liquid directly from his lower lip.

Instead, I part mine, and his tongue invades, conquering, taking what he wants. I give as good as I get, sensual shivers running from my neck to between my legs.

He breaks from the kiss, panting, and steps back for balance, holding on to my arms.

“Ow,” he suddenly gasps. I blink, my focus still on his lips.

Then he hops on one sandaled foot, gripping his other foot, twisting it upside down to see his bare heel. A big red bump forms there. “What in the name of Hades?”

I snap out of my lustful haze. “Did you step on a bee?”

“It bit me.”

“You killed one of my bees? I don’t have enough of the little critters for you to go walking on them.”

“What about me?” He leans against the workbench, balancing on one foot, holding the other off the ground, trying to pick at the red bump. “It hurts.”

“No, stop that.” I slap his hand away. “Don’t pull out the stinger. Walk on your tiptoes and come with me.”

I wrap his arm across my shoulder, and he limps by my side, balancing on the toes of his injured foot as he keeps his heel raised. Once we’re past the membrane that keeps the bees in their dome, I help him sit down on the tube’s floor. He reaches for his heel again.

“No, leave it alone. If you try to pluck out the stinger, you’ll squeeze the venom further into your heel. Best way to deal is to take a knife and scrape it out.”

Even in the dim light of the tube, the stinger stands out on his skin, easy for me to see. I take the knife off my belt and carefully run the blade in the direction the stinger lies. “There. Done.” I show him the knife, where the itty-bitty stinger lies, then take another look at his heel, running my thumb over the swollen area. “All out. Now to the kitchen, so I can make a paste of baking soda—”

“How do you know how to treat a bee bite?”

“Well, heck, I was mortal once, doncha know? If you want, I’ll put a little of my blood in with the baking soda—between the two, you’ll be right as rain.”

I wipe off the stinger and return the knife to its sheath. Wrapping an arm around his back, and another under his knees, I lift him.

“Evelina, what in the name of Hades—”

“Uff-da. Don’t throw a hissy fit.” I carry him to the kitchen and place him on a chair. “Put your heel up on the table and I’ll tend to it.”

I don’t have much in my cupboard in the way of mortal medicines. Whatever we scavenged after the Collapse, the Lux transferred to the mixed domes, and whatever I’ve found more recently while scavenging expired ninety years ago. For a bee sting, I don’t even consult the computer for a fix—I know from my mortal years what home remedy my mom used when I stepped on a bee. Taking a jar of baking soda from the cupboard, I make a paste. I have sealed barrels of the stuff scavenged from a food-processing plant, and thanks to Lux tech, the baking soda doesn’t break down in the warehouse.

I stab my index finger with a fang, then squeeze my blood into the paste.

His entire foot is swelling already. I don’t like the look of that, so I spread some of my blood directly on his heel where the bee stung, then pack the paste over the wound.

Holding out my finger, a drop of blood beads. Waste not, want not. I hold the drop out to him. “Swallow this.”

He looks appalled. And sexy, with his long body stretched on the chair, his foot propped on the table, and his mouth hanging open. “You want me to taste your blood? Will it make me like you?”

“Not this amount. It’ll help heal you. Now open up.”

He looks skeptical.

“Do I need to mix honey with it, or are you going to stop being a baby and swallow the only medicine I can offer?”

He narrows his eyes and licks my finger.

As the blood hits his tongue, he moans. Yeah, some of the aphrodisiac in my fang serum has mixed with the blood. Then he closes his lips around my finger and sucks. Hard.

Oh, this is such a bad idea. But this time the fear doesn’t stop me. I want more.

His golden browns stare into mine when he releases my finger. “Nectar of the gods. Bacchus never made anything better.” Lowering his foot to the floor, he pulls me onto his lap. “I’m about to seduce you. I thought you’d like to know.”

“With your foot injured—”

“I’m an imperial officer. A small insect bite won’t stop me.”

“Sting, not bite.”

“Disagree with me again, and I’ll show you how I punish the domina of the court when they dare question my wisdom.”

A tingle shoots down my spine. Yeah, I’m a sucker for a little discipline. But darn. I don’t need the warm-up. His erection presses through our clothing against my butt cheek, and feeling his arousal fully lights my fire.

He grips my hair and pushes me to him, then captures my lips, his mouth demanding, his tongue insistent, and tugs on my lower lip with his teeth until I open to him.

The sound of his heart thrums faster. His musky scent and warm skin against mine throw more fuel on my fire.

He releases my hair and slides his hands to my shoulders, dropping the straps of my tank top to free my breasts. Sensually, he runs his fingers lightly over them, then toys with my nipples until they bud.

Oh my gosh. Sexy and well trained.

He breaks from the kiss, and I mourn the loss of his lips, until he leans forward and licks a nipple, and I no longer regret the loss of his mouth on mine. He sucks, and licks, and nips, and I squirm on his lap, thinking I’ll come in my pants before we do the dirty.

Does he sense my urgency? Without warning, he stands with me in his arms, carries me to the bedroom, and sweeps the blankets back to lay me on the bed.

Just as fast, he strips me bare—blue jeans off, the tank top and bra pulled over my head.

I don’t know what he has in mind next, but before I can suggest anything, his pants drop to the floor and his shirt follows. He kneels next to me, returning his lips to my breasts. I moan when he makes contact, when he sucks and licks again. My hips move, begging for attention.

“Eager, are you?” he asks against my breast, his words vibrating the skin.

“Yes.” If my nipples got any harder, they’d turn to marble.

He plants a series of kisses from my breast to my pussy. When his tongue sweeps to circle my clit, I almost come. It’s been so long since warm lips have worshiped at my thighs. One of his hands finds my breast, playing with the nipple, while his free hand feels for my opening, inserting one finger, then two.

I moan.

He looks up at me. “You like that?”

“Oh, you betcha. Don’t stop now.”

He chuckles and swipes his tongue over my clit, alternating between sucking and licking, while his fingers play me like a keyboard, treble and bass in perfect rhythm and harmony.

I grip his hair with one hand, urging him to lick faster, holding my breath, and when he does, I explode, coming in a rolling rush, my hips thumping, the fireworks behind my closed eyelids spectacular, and I take in a deep breath as his tongue continues to chase the electrifying spasms.

When he slows down, I want to scream do it again , but instead, I pant.

He looks up at me. “Tell me, beautiful, can vampires get pregnant?”

I snort my laugh. I wasn’t expecting that. “No. We can’t.”

“Excellent.”

He kisses my inner thigh and rises over me, bending my knees and spreading my legs. He strokes me in and out with his fingers, his heavy-lidded eyes staring into mine.

“You are so wet. I love it.” He slides his fingers out and spreads my moisture over his cock, mixing my juices with the pre-cum oozing from him. The way he grips himself and strokes is so sexy. I raise my hips, inviting him in.

He grips the base of his thick cock and, lining up my center, plunges in.

“Oh my God,” rushes from me. To be filled so quickly after being empty for so long… I grab his arms and bring him down to kiss, tasting myself on him, then tasting only him as his tongue plunges past my lips.

His rhythm is sinful. How a first time can be this good, I don’t know, but it’s like we’re made for each other. He doesn’t pound; he glides. The way he raises my legs allows each stroke to ride my clit, the pressure perfect, and I build toward the peak again.

Breaking from the kiss, he rises over me, and the glint of the night-light reflects off his eyes. The muscles in his arms cord, his breath panting, his masculine chest hovering over me as his hips move. I soak in the image and my closed heart cracks open.

I grab those bulging muscles and pull him down until my lips are on his neck. “May I?”

“Do it.”

I sink my fangs into his neck and feel the light tickle when my fang serum erupts and shoots deep into his vein. With my first draw, I taste not just his delectable blood, but the aphrodisiac, too, which ramps me up to the top.

My pelvis catches up, overtakes my brain, and I release his neck. The orgasm washes through me. “Oh, fuck .”

He rises on his hands again and pounds into me, finally freezing as his own orgasm overtakes him, and the pulsing of his cock sends me into overtime.

When I open my eyes, he’s staring down at me.

“By Jupiter, you’re beautiful when you come,” he says, leaning over to kiss me. “I could never keep the rule of five with you.”

“Rule of five?”

He looks sheepish a moment. “I’ve never slept with a woman more than five times. But you… I know I’ll always want more of you, Blue Eyes.”

Oh, I am so screwed.