Lycan King

He grimaced and lowered her gently to the ground. He looked around wildly. Dammit, he could have helped her if only she'd come to him. The cooks always had fresh meat being slaughtered and prepared in the kitchen for dinner. They were always washing blood off the counters and floor.

Deeply concerned, he glanced at the open field. It was barren. The forest was nearby, but he didn't want to leave her alone while he searched for an animal. There was only one thing left to do. Grimacing, he looked down at her. All he saw were her daggers, her sword and a knife. Where the hell was her stake?

'Are all of your weapons made of silver?' he asked.

'What?' She blinked away her confusion until realisation lit her face. 'No, you mustn't. Let me…let me die.' She closed her eyes. 'Please…I beg you…just take care of my daughter.' She groaned as she clutched her stomach.

He shook her. 'Answer me!'

'Yes.'

'Your stake,' he said roughly. 'Are you carrying it?'

'Be…behind me,' she said weakly.

Without saying another word, he lifted her and felt behind her. The stake was strapped to her back. He pulled it free and laid her down. His heart hammered in his chest as her breath came out in short rasps. Clenching his jaw, he drove the stake through his wrist, twisted it to make a deep cut and pulled it out, tossing it behind him.

Blood poured from his cut.

Quickly, he leaned over her still form and placed his bloody cut over her mouth. 'Feed,' he said hoarsely.

Her eyes flickered and she shook her head.

Drago pressed his wrist on her mouth. 'Eve, feed on my blood,' he said thickly. 'You will die if you don't.'

She opened her eyes and stared at him, her expression horrified. 'I don't…feed on…humans,' she said, her voice growing fainter.

He grimaced. 'You forget I am not human. Now, feed.'

She squeezed her eyes. 'Dear God, forgive me,' she said and grabbed his arm, pulling his wrist closer to her mouth as she began to drink his blood.

Drago stared at her face. Slowly, her colour returned. She moaned with pleasure and he was taken aback by the sheer force of his emotions. Damnation, she was drinking his blood. The thought should have disgusted him, but it didn't. Slowly, his loins began to heat with each draw she took, with each suckle she made and his penis grew hard.

Dammit, she was arousing him. He inhaled sharply through his nose, gritting his teeth. What manner of seduction was this that made him throb with intense pleasure and agonizing pain? He growled as he felt his body soaring to a place where he knew he would have no control. This ecstasy was more than he could bear and he gently tried to pull his wrist away, but couldn't. Eve had a tight hold on his arm and her euphoric expression told him she wasn't finished feeding yet.

He threw his head back and roared at the white hot pleasure washing over him. Dammit, he was going to lose control!

'Stop,' he growled, but she continued to suckle his wrist. 'Eve, I…said…stop,' he groaned. If she didn't heed his warning, he was going to shred the leather from her limbs and drive his rigid penis into her warm folds.

He sucked in a harsh breath. He'd never contemplated rape in his entire life. Holding on to his last shred of sanity, he grabbed her hair and dragged her head away from his wrist.

He stared down at her serene expression, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her eyes were closed and she brought up her hand and wiped the blood from her mouth. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at him.

'Thank you, Drago,' she said.

Chapter Seven

He saved her life. Eve licked her lips, tasting the last drop of his blood and her heart raced. She wanted more of him, all of him. She licked her lips again and stared up at his dark, brilliant gaze.

'Stop doing that,' he said hoarsely.

'Stop doing what?' she asked, but she already knew. She'd known the moment she drank his blood how aroused he was. How much he wanted her. She wanted him, too. She couldn't deny it. Not after what she'd done. Drinking his blood infused her with his life essence and bound her to him in a way that transcended logic. She was his on a level that surpassed the flesh.

'Stop licking your lips,' he rasped.

For Drago it was still all about the flesh. He wanted to have sex with her. She could see it in his eyes, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away from her mouth. And lower, beneath his loin cloth, his rigid shaft that was pressing hard against her thigh.

She rose slowly and Drago followed suit. He stared down at her upraised face.

'How long have you been putting your healing blood in wells?' he asked abruptly.

'Since I turned four hundred years ago and discovered my blood's power to heal.'

'You're four hundred years old?'

'Yes.'

'And you've been curing people ever since without anyone's knowledge?'

She stiffened. 'Curing an illness will never make me human again. Please don't glorify my actions. Anyone in my position would do the same thing.'