He turned on her so quickly, she didn't see him move before his hands were beside her head on the door. Though she wasn't scared of him, her breath still hitched as he lowered his face to the same height as hers. At some point in time, he had taken his glasses off to reveal the burning red eyes hidden beneath them all day. Eyes that showed his continued spiral out of control.
"You don't know what I am, Emma, what I’m capable of, or the thoughts I have." He leaned closer to her, his nose and mouth practically touched her neck as he inhaled deeply. "The things I want to do to you, if you knew what they were, you would run screaming."
Perhaps she would, but she couldn't help but feel oddly titillated by his words and his breath as it tickled her neck and ear. She was a train wreck, but it was because of him, she’d gone off the rails. Her palms pressed against the door as he pulled away to look at her.
"I stayed away from humans because I knew their blood and life force was a temptation I might not be able to resist one day, and then I met you. You made it all better. With you, the incessant clamoring for blood wasn't as loud, and I found I could face the world again."
"Thoughts don't make you a monster, Ethan, actions do."
"If you knew my thoughts right now, Emma, you wouldn't be so certain of that."
"And what are they?" she whispered.
He leaned so close their noses nearly touched. "What I wouldn't give for just a taste of you."
Her breath caught in her chest, she bit her bottom lip as her heart raced with excitement and apprehension. She was trapped in this tiny closet-sized room, with a man who was talking about drinking her blood, and instead of fleeing she found herself saying words she'd never expected to say, "Taste me, then."
His eyes became a more vivid shade of red; she knew if there had been actual flames within his eyes, she would have been burned by them. It wasn't his eyes that would hurt her but the fangs extending over his bottom lip at her words.
"If I'm what you need to help you be stable and to face the world, then do it," she said.
Ethan's jaw clenched; the scent of rain on her skin, mixed with the honeysuckle scent of her intensified as she unwaveringly held his gaze. Those scents were even more enticing than her words. His hand brushed the wet tendrils of hair away from her neck to expose the vein running through there, pulsing with life and begging for him to taste it. It was the vein he wanted the most, the one that would ease and satisfy him, but it would also be the beginning of the end. If he did this, there would never be any turning back for him.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he said from between his clenched teeth. "I can't."
"It will help you—"
"It will intensify what I feel for you. If I ever taste you, that will be the end of me. It could only be us afterward."
Those words echoed in her mind, and the sane part of her was saying this was all moving too fast. A commitment such as this took years of getting to know each other, of dating, meeting the parents, and fights. Then, if all those things were withstood, and there was still love, a ring and the promise of another fifty or so years were exchanged. There wasn't a bonding ritual that would end her life and last for eternity.
The insane part of her was screaming, just do it.
The prospect of spending forever with him wasn't as frightening anymore. It was intriguing and exciting; it was something she wanted as badly as he seemed to want her blood right now. This magnificent, powerful man standing before her loved her, and he was offering to share his life with her.
He had no doubts about her; he was willing to do anything for her, even die. When she asked for space, he stepped aside and risked himself to make her happy. Before everything was revealed to her, she’d been falling in love with him, and now, after all this, she realized she was in love with him.
Emma's heart raced, even with the cold air caressing her skin, her body was on fire as the heat of him burned against her. Weren't vampires supposed to be cold? Instead, he had the same effect on her as the summer sun on an August day.
"Then let it be us," she whispered.
"Emma," he groaned, and for the first time, some of his anger and stress eased as his head bowed. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"You said I can still see my parents."
"Yes, but it's your death."
She rested her hand against his cheek; the stubble lining his jaw was rough against her palm as she leaned forward to press a brief kiss against his lips. "And it's a whole new life. I'm not thrilled about the prospect of having my heart stop beating, but I am thrilled about you. You've given me time to figure all this out, and what I've realized is I want you; I want to help you and to be a part of your life. I thought you would be happy."
The look in his eyes made her realize it was too much for him to hope for right now, and he didn't know how to handle her words. Taking his cheeks with her hands, she stared at him for a few seconds before pulling him closer and kissing him again. At first, he didn't respond to her, but then his lips eased against hers and his body relaxed.
A feeling of contentment slid through her as she pressed closer to him. His hands slipped away from the door and settled on her hips. The thin, wet material of
