The Vampire Narcise by Colleen Gleason Read Free Book Online

pounding heart slowed a bit, but before she stepped back into the chamber, those strong fingers were back, gently curling around her wrist.
    “Do you see?” Cale said, drawing her back toward him, away from the door. “He has no notice of you.”
    “But—” she began, and then she stopped, her breath catching.
    He’d moved sharply, jerking his arm, and all at once the scent of fresh blood permeated the air. “ Merde ,” he muttered. “What have I done?”
    What have you done indeed. Narcise felt almost dizzy from the rich aroma as it seemed to embrace her, sliding into her consciousness. “Monsieur,” she managed, her fangs suddenly filling her mouth, thrusting sharp and hard as her veins pulsed with the rush of need. She was under no illusion that his sudden wound had been an accident.
    “You would do me a great service,” murmured Cale, eyeing her steadily. “If you would attend to this.” He lifted his arm.
    He’d hardly needed to move, for despite her resistance, Narcise’s attention had already slipped down to his bare wrist. His cutaway coat was gone, his shirtsleeve pulled away to expose a golden forearm, muscular and smooth but for the ooze of dark red blood.
    “Please, mademoiselle,” he said, and she felt the wall crushing the full bustle at the back of her gown. “You need to feed, and here I am in need of assistance.”
    Narcise should have been angry at him for such a trick, but she didn’t even bear that strength of mind at the moment. The blood…his blood, his scent…that of the man whose presence had set her off-kilter, who hadn’t made a single reference to her beauty or to wanting her…who’d been willing to intervene in a sword fight…. his blood tempted her, and in her weakened state, she had no real chance to deny it.
    As if knowing she were light of head and uneasy, Cale slid an arm around her waist, positioning it between the hollow of her back and the wall behind. She had the sensations of heat and solidness enveloping her, the alluring scent of his presence, the warm cotton of his shirt.
    She licked first…just a delicate slide of her tongue over the pool of blood collecting in the hollows of his wrist. He gave a little start, the tiniest of jolts, and she felt his arm tense beneath her mouth. Heavy and rich, his lifeblood settled over her tongue and lips and a great surge of desire rushed through her.
    But somehow she held her instinct in check and swirled her tongue over and around the small wound, inhaling his scent, tasting his life. Pure, hot, lush…strong. He was powerful. She could no longer wait, and sunk her fangs into the surging veins on the inside of his wrist.
    Now he flowed into her mouth with the delicate rhythm of his heartbeat, the veins filling and surging against her mouth. She drank, breathed, her knees buckling so that she sagged against the wall and into his arms. Lust and need swelled her body, in her veins and beneath her skin, pulsing and dampening her far beneath layers of clothing.
    The wall was solid behind her, and Cale to the side, his arm still curved around her waist. She was faintly aware of his body trembling against hers, of the rough movement of his chest. As she held him with both hands, bending his hand back to open palm and wrist, their fingers curled together. She was aware of the heavy ring on his finger, biting into her smaller digits as he gripped tightly.
    Narcise drank, sucking gently, her swallows quiet and rhythmic as the ambrosia filled her mouth, funneling through her body. She found herself caressing his warm, smooth skin with her lips as she pinned him with her fangs, using tongue and lips to sip up every bit.
    There was a moment when she’d regained some of her strength and she glanced up to see Cale’s eyes fastened on her. Blazing red, they glowed like a banked fire beneath heavy lids. His lips had parted, his fangs thrust long and tempting. His expression shot a sharp pang into her belly, and down. Hard and strong,