Home > Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(27)

Twice Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires #3)(27)
Author: Chloe Neill

As I looked at him now, I saw the knowledge in his eyes. He knew what I'd remembered, but also that the memory wasn't going to change my mind. "You are so stubborn." I gave him a pointed look. "You've always known that. You've known who I am from the very beginning."

"I know you aren't the same as the rest of them."

"I wasn't made like the rest of them," I pointed out. "I didn't ask to become one of your vampires. I became a vampire because you chose to make me one."

"And what, Sentinel, did I make you?"

The room was silent for a moment, until I lifted my eyes to his. I wondered what he saw in mine as he stared back. Did he see the same, strong desire, tempered by my own hesitation?

"Did I make you strong?" he asked. "Did I make you capable?" A corner of my lip lifted. "I am who I am. You just made me vampire." While I still had the strength to do it, I took a few steps backward. "We aren't far to dawn. I should probably head to my room. Did you need me for anything else?"

"I need you for many things."

Oh, but it was so easy to be flattered by the thought that a man so intensely handsome wanted me so fiercely. Of course, that was exactly the problem. "You want me for physical satisfaction." When I got no response, I glanced up at him again, thinking my flippancy had angered him. But there was no anger in his eyes, just liquid, rich quicksilver - the color of hunger.

My spine tingled, not just with arousal, but with something baser - a kind of vampiric appreciation, an interest in whatever game we were beginning to play. The question was, was I prepared to lose?

He moved forward and took my hand, then joined our fingers together, raising our linked hands between us. "You would be worth any cost."

"Whether I'm worth it isn't the question." My voice was lush and low, and surprised me with its depth.

Apparently the bravado I'd been faking with Lindsey hadn't been all a show - as a vampire, I had plenty of confidence in my feminine wiles. And, more important, I would be the one to decide whether he was worthy of my attentions.

"Why do you doubt me?"

"Because we've had this conversation before. At Mallory's. In the library."

"I am beginning to remember - " He stopped, shook his head, then started again. "I am beginning to remember what it means to need things. Laughter. Companionship. Love." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. "And I need you, Merit." I swallowed. Those were words I hadn't expected to hear, hadn't been prepared to hear. I want you, sure. I desire you, maybe. But not need - not the admission of it, of the weakness he connoted with it.

That simple, four-letter word laid me bare, stripping away the defenses I'd so carefully constructed.

"Ethan." My voice was barely a whisper, barely enough to push through the thick silence, but there was still warning in my tone. A warning he ignored.

That was when he moved - when he reached up, cupped my face in his hands, and pressed his lips to mine. He stayed there, his mouth on mine, for a long time, before he finally drew away. But he kept his hands on my cheeks and kept his shining eyes on my face.

"You undo me, Merit. Wholly and completely. You don't take me at my word. You challenge me at every opportunity. And that means when I'm with you, I am less than the head of this House . . . and I am more than the head of this House. I am a man." He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. "In my very, very long life, I need you more than I have ever needed anything."

This time, I didn't wait for him to move.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HUNGRY EYES

I kissed him. I slid my hands around his waist as he slid his hands around my neck, tangled his fingers in my hair, and pulled me closer. He kissed me hungrily, greedily, as if he'd been starved for me.

My body ignited, every cell on fire, and I kissed him back as if I couldn't get close enough. I nipped at his lips and tangled my tongue with his, magic beginning to spill through the room as passion flared between us.

"Shirt off," I said, and he pulled back, his eyes widening at my boldness.

I smiled secretively. I guess working on my bravado had been worth it.

Ethan stepped back and licked his lips. "I have waited a long time for you." My fingers, which shook with nerves and anticipation, tugged at the bottom of his gray T-shirt, and ever so slowly pulled it up to reveal an ever-larger band of perfect skin above his waist.

"I don't want to rush you," he quietly said, "but I have things planned yet before the sun rises."

"Patience is a virtue," I told him. I slid my hands up the flat plane of his stomach, raising the shirt one brick of muscle at a time. When I'd gone as far as I could go, he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head.

"I will only entertain teasing for so long," he said, but closed his eyes and sighed, his muscles tensing beneath my hands as I traced a finger down the center of his stomach. I felt the sharp intake of breath and saw the pained pleasure on his face as I tugged the belt at his waist. Fingers nimbled by sword practice, I unfastened the buckle and pulled it through the loops, then dropped it to the floor.

His eyes flashed open - and flashed silver. "Merit," he growled.

I glanced up at him through my bangs, slipped off my leather jacket, and pulled the elastic from my hair, letting it fall loose around my shoulders. Ethan stepped forward, sliding his hands into my hair and pressing his mouth to mine.

After a long, hungry kiss, Ethan finally pulled back, chest heaving, lips parted. He stared at me, his pupils fully silver, and let his fangs descend. My heart pounded, the human nervous with anticipation, the vampire eager for action.

"Merit," he said, then dipped his head toward my neck, letting his fangs graze the skin above the blood pulsing in my arteries. "You know what it would be like," he whispered, his breath hot at my neck, enticing me to another memory of the blood we'd shared together. "You know how it would feel. For you to take what I offer."

I shuddered from the memory, from the wine-warm taste of his blood on my lips, a flavor that had bloomed with heat and life and magic. It had been like drinking fine wine infused with pure electricity.

And now he offered it again . . . to be twice bitten.

I opened my mouth to answer - still not sure what words would spill from my mouth - but he pulled back.

"First things first," he said, then took my hand and led me toward the double doors to his bedroom. I paused at the threshold, our arms stretched between us, hesitation suddenly overtaking me. He'd done this before with a woman who'd betrayed him, a woman assigned to provide him pleasure.

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