Free Open Flame (Dragon's Fate) by Lacy Danes Page B

tears and her lips were set in a firm line. She closed her eyes, and tears ran down her cheek. She fisted her hands on the vanity, then opened her eyes and stared at him. “If you wish.”
    She just said she was relieved, and yet she cried. A contradiction he would need to resolve. Forcing her to confide in him would not be the way to do this. She needed him. He simply had to prove that to her. “One moment. I will get the package from the parlor.”
    He turned from her and walked to the table, then returned to find her smoothing her hands down the silk of her bodice. “I had the dress made by a pointed-ear woman named Arias. I gave her your gray wool, and she designed your dresses from that pattern and the energy you possess. She hires these little people she calls Sprys. They have wings and huge hearts. They do the most intricate stitching.”
    “The dress is beautiful, and the stitching made me think of a drawing I will do. But how would she know my energy?” She pivoted from the mirror to face him.
    “Your essence is on everything you own or touch.” He placed the package on the bed and unwrapped the lace. In a long coil, he pulled out the delicate webbing. “I will need to cut this but…” He held it up. “Turn.”
    She pivoted back to the mirror. He placed the lace up to her neck and wrapped her. He would spoil her. She would hate that. He would do it anyway. “Do you approve?” He fiddled with the bow he’d just tied and then stared into the mirror at her expression.
    Her brow furrowed, and a smile crossed her lips, then quickly disappeared. “It will have to do.”
    Did she not like the lace? “The lace is too masculine?” He laughed. “A jest. Do you prefer something else?” He pulled the lace from her neck.
    She grasped the end—“No.”—and rotated to stare up at him. She inhaled deeply, and her breasts brushed against his long silk vest. “I-I…” She lowered her gaze to his neck and trembled.
    He understood the desire that shone in her eyes. “You desire my blood?” He closed his eyes, and in his mind, he could feel her lips on his throat. The scrape of her teeth. Gooseflesh washed his arms. He needed her. Needed her desire of him to be a reality, not just a fantasy in his mind.
    “I do.”
    He opened his eyes. She licked her lips. Her gaze fixed on his neck.
    “There is no harm in taking what you desire. Not from me.”
    Her lower jaw jittered, and she curled her upper lip back, exposing two small, pointed teeth. Her tongue traced her lips, and she pressed herself up onto her tiptoes.
    “Take what you desire.”
    Her hands slipped up his chest, and her mouth closed over the pulse on his neck. Her tongue flicked, and fire flashed through his veins. He moaned and wrapped his hands about her waist.
    Her pointed teeth sliced through his skin and down into his bloodstream. He flinched and arched his head away from her to give her more. Warmth speared through his flesh, and a drizzle of blood ran down his neck. He moved his hands up to his chest to protect her dress from any blood that might spill down onto her gown.
    Her tongue stroked, and she pulled her teeth from his flesh. She tipped her head back. His hands followed her chin catching a few drips of blood that threatened to slide down her chin and onto her new dress, ruining her experience in tasting him.
    She staggered back, and her bottom hit the vanity. She steadied herself with her hands and breathed in and out hard. Her eyes glossed over, and her expression was lost in the sensation of her first bite.
    He wiped his palms down his vest, smearing his blood on his hip pockets. He reached past her to the vanity and grasped a handkerchief that lay on the wood. Blood coated her lips and slipped down her chin. He raised the cloth and held the cotton below her lips, then tossed it aside. He stared at her plush lips, red with desire for him. Titillating swollen lips, rouged red with his blood. He wanted her. Wanted to taste what she had