“Thought this might help a bit more than aspirin,” he said, his free hand cradling the back of his head as he leaned against the headboard.
“Uh-huh,” I breathed, watching the play of his chest muscles as more of that replenishing power flowed into me. Jesus. Every time I got to experience this, I felt like I should be pinching myself because it couldn’t possibly be real. It couldn’t possibly be this... good. With difficulty, I tore my attention away from all that pale skin to ask, “Are you sure about this?”
I broke off, silently berating myself. Idiot. Did I really want to remind him that he was offering to sex up an emotional wreck with daddy issues? Of course I didn’t.
Quickly changing tack, I said, “I mean, do you want some of my blood first? So I don’t wipe you out as badly?”
His lips pursed in distaste, the brief expression followed by a wry, lopsided smile. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait until the rest of Tinkerbell’s animus makes its way out of you. Fae life force isn’t really to my taste.”
I was still glued in place in the doorway. Part of me was screaming, ‘Are you mentally deficient, girl? Why are you standing all the way over here when you could be on the bed?’ But the rest was fixated on a new question.
“Why do I react so strongly to you?” I asked. “And not just you. Albigard, too—although his energy made me feel like insects were crawling under my skin. I’d never felt like this with anyone I slept with before I met you. I had no idea I was drawing anything from them... but with you, I can feel it happening. Hell, if I close my eyes, I can practically see it.”
Rans released himself, lacing his fingers behind his head as he considered his reply. Immediately, I felt the flow of energy slow to a trickle.
“They were all human,” he said. “Fae and vampire animus is stronger. Demon, too, I imagine. Our life force is bolstered by magic. It’s not surprising that as demonkin, Fae magic doesn’t agree with you. The two races have been enemies for longer than humans have been walking upright on two legs.”
“Guess I’m lucky that vampire animus is demon-compatible, in that case,” I said lightly.
“You know what they say,” he replied in the same tone. “Once you go undead, you never go back.”
I chuckled. “That’s a terrible slogan. You need a better copywriter.”
He shrugged. “The pay’s shite and the hours are worse. Makes it hard to find good talent.” A dark eyebrow cocked. “Now get your arse over here, unless you just want to stand there and play voyeur all night.”
Honestly, I could think of worse things than watching Rans unselfconsciously fisting that gorgeous cock—but even that would be better when viewed close up.
“Maybe I’ve just discovered a secret voyeurism kink,” I told him as I crossed to the foot of the bed. “Is that a succubus thing?”
He snorted. “All kinks are a succubus thing, luv. It sort of comes with the territory.” His head tilted in interest. “So, do you have any others?”
THREE
OKAY, THAT WAS a rather unexpected question—though maybe it shouldn’t have been. Was this what sex partners normally did, when they weren’t too busy running for the hills after sleeping with you? Asking about your likes and dislikes, feeling out your kinks?
Shit, maybe it was.
Too bad my only experience of healthy relationships came from reading trashy romance novels where the hero magically knew the heroine’s every secret desire. And sure, some of those sexy scenes did more for me than others, but there was a big difference between reading about something and wanting to do it... or wanting to have it done to you.
“I have absolutely no idea about my kinks,” I said eventually, deciding honesty was the best policy in this situation. “Mostly, I’m into guys not treating me like a nympho freak for wanting to get laid.” And for wanting to nibble on their life force like it was a Sunday buffet, I didn’t add.
Rans didn’t move from his relaxed sprawl, though a smile twitched at his lips. “Then you appear to be in luck, Zorah Bright... though I still think we can do better than that. Look around you... nice big house, all to ourselves. Solid construction. Far enough away from the neighbors that no one will hear you screaming your head off when I make you come for the dozenth time.”
And just like that, the flesh between my thighs was aching and throbbing, demanding satisfaction. Judging by his smug expression, the vampire on the bed knew it, too. Bastard.
“Your modesty is one of your most attractive qualities, you know. So, what about you?” I asked, trying to turn it back on him. “What does a vampire do for kicks in bed?”
His expression turned jaded for a moment before he consciously smoothed it. “After seven hundred years, just about everything you can imagine, at one time or another. And probably a few things you can’t.”
I remembered the afternoon at Nigellus’ house in Atlantic City—how Rans had urged me to use him until exhaustion finally quieted his circling thoughts.
“You use sex to make everything stop for a bit, don’t you?” I said in a burst of insight. “That’s why you don’t seem to care that I’m draining you when you sleep with me. Being drained helps you turn it all off for a while.”
Still, he didn’t move—and yet I thought I could sense walls coming up.
“It’s cheaper than therapy,” he said, throwing a quip I’d made to Guthrie back at me. The smile he flashed was tight, and didn’t reach his eyes. “Besides, it gets terribly tiresome having to wipe a therapist’s memories after every single session. Hard to make any progress that way.”
“I bet.”
Was it strange that I felt better knowing we were both kind of fucked up in the head?
