Page 120 of Vampire's Choice

Yes. She swallowed. Whispered it. “Yes. Merc…”

This was new and strange, even for them. The natural way he was taking over, as if he knew just how much she wanted to be pushed this way. Had fantasized about it. Feared it. Feared where it would take her.

Maybe he’d been able to explore those corners of her mind far faster than a human servant could. But she’d seen how fast he could fly, with her as a passenger. Maybe it was the same in their minds.

“Do you fear me?”

She lifted a lip to show a fang, her automatic defiant response. “Do you want me to?”

His challenge helped steady and reassure her. Had he intended that?

“Would I be disappointed if the answer is yes?” he asked with deceptive mildness.

“Probably.”

The intensity of his gaze didn’t lessen. He put his mouth over her rushing pulse, and she saw the tips of his fangs. He could cloak them the way he did his wings, and often did so during the performances. When he let them show, like now, they were intimidating and large, like a leopard’s.

When she was younger, Adan had told her that hers were the size of a house cat’s. When she’d bitten him hard enough to make him snarl, she’d smugly noted that size didn’t matter. It was the pointiness. And how much time a person had to twist that pointiness around and rip flesh.

Don’t bite your brother. She remembered Kohana’s admonishment from the kitchen, the threatening wave of a wooden spoon.

This was a very different moment, but when Merc’s gaze glinted with momentary humor, she knew he’d heard the details of the memory and caught flashes of it.

With the third mark, such a recollection would be much clearer, like watching movies in her head. Would he show her the same about his life, his memories? She hoped so. The good and the bad. She wanted to know him. All of him.

He leaned forward, putting off the decisive moment. “Part your lips and stay still.”

When she did, he scraped his fangs over hers, his lips and tongue tracing their shape, making her feel the difference in size. As he caressed them, other feelings swirled among the unsettling ones.

“I want you to fear me in the right ways, Ruth. Do you? I like your defiance, but this isn’t the moment for it. Only truth, if your own heart will reveal it to you.”

“Yes. I do.” Her breath was erratic against his skin. His grip tightened on her arm. The soul could hide things, things too difficult for the heart and mind to process. It was the guardian of both, the last defense, taking the blows to keep the others from being crushed. Because they were far more fragile.

She had no doubt the third mark would put Merc inside her soul.

He drew back, positioning his mouth over her wrist again. His lashes lowered, and she watched his fangs sink into her flesh. She shuddered, caught between pain and ecstasy at the powerfully intimate act between vampire and servant. Or in her case…Master.

He tasted her, tongue against her flesh, collecting the blood.

Please, please let me touch you.

He picked up on her inexplicable urgency, and was merciful. Yes.

Her hand flew to his throat, to put her fingers there so she felt his very first swallow. And stayed, as he did it three times.

That should be enough to accomplish the first part of the binding. It wasn’t a directive. She wouldn’t tell him what to do. Only give him the information to make the decision.

Merc lifted his head, sliding his thumb over the punctures to hold pressure on them. He brought her close to him, flush against his body, arm around her waist, and let her taste herself on his mouth, his tongue. With a satisfied sound, he deepened the kiss, rediscovering the pleasure of it all over again. She got lost in it, barely aware as he stretched them out on the bed. He spread out his wings as he turned onto his back. He put her between his spread thighs, his straining cock against her stomach, her upper body on his chest.

Use my neck for the third mark.

His grasp returned to her hair, holding her fast as she put her mouth against his corded throat. Urgency and a desire to savor the moment fought for the upper hand, and her Master told her which he wanted.

Do it now. I want your soul, Ruth. I want all of you.

She bit. Not like the adult vampire she considered herself, but with the hunger of a fledgling willing to tear through any barrier to get what she wanted. She was letting herself be out of control, because she could be. Merc’s strength held her fast, keeping her bite controlled. He was in charge.

She released the third mark, a yearning sound coming from her as she crossed a barrier to an unknown world, no turning back. She might have other third marks in her life, depending on how long Merc would be willing to share this path with her, but it would likely never again be with a Master. It would be someone she’d have to take on to protect herself, to give the illusion of what she would never be.