Page 71 of Blood Match

She narrows her eyes slightly. “What aren’t you telling me?”

I step closer, watching as she tenses but doesn’t back away. “Not all witch blood is created equal, little witch. Yours…well, let’s just say it has certain unique properties.”

“In what sense?” She frowns.

“Does it matter? I said I’m happy with the arrangement.”

Ecstatic, actually.

I study Rowan’s face, noting the slight flush in her cheeks and the way her pulse quickens. She’s nervous but determined. I can respect that.

“There’s one more thing,” she says, her voice steady despite her obvious discomfort. “This arrangement…it’s just for the blood. Nothing else. No…intimacy.”

I raise an eyebrow, amused by her attempt at setting boundaries.

If only she knew.

“Of course,” I reply smoothly, my expression neutral. “Just blood. Nothing more.”

I don’t tell her that blood drinking is inherently intimate. That the act of piercing flesh, of tasting someone’s very essence, is more sensual than any simple sex act could ever be. I don’t explain how I’ll be able to sense her emotions, her desires, her fears with every drop I consume.

I don’t tell her that she’ll be begging me to take her.

No, I keep that knowledge to myself. Let her believe this can be a clinical, detached arrangement. It’s better that way.

“Then we have a deal,” I say, extending my hand.

Rowan hesitates for a moment before taking it. Her skin is warm against mine, and I can feel the rush of her blood through her fingertips. It takes considerable willpower not to pull her closer, to sink my fangs into her delicate wrist right then and there.

Instead, I release her hand and take a step back, maintaining a respectful distance.

“Okay, then.” She looks around nervously. “So…when do we start?”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” I try not to smile because my fangs have sharpened into points.

“Right. Sure.” She nods a few times. Too many times.

“Relax, Rowan.” I reach for her hand again. She takes a hesitant step forward.

I can sense her trepidation as she stands before me, her heart beating a rapid staccato. The scent of her fear is subtle, almost masked by the sweet aroma of roses that clings to her skin.

She’s trying to be brave, to cling to some sort of control, but her body betrays her. The rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremble in her hands – she’s as nervous as a doe caught in the sights of a hunter.

“It’s going to be okay. Trust me,” I murmur. I take her hand in mine again, feeling the softness of her skin against my own. There’s a certain thrill in knowing that she’s willingly offering herself to me, a vampire – one of the creatures she’s been conditioned to fear and mistrust.

I stroke my thumb over the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist, feeling how her pulse flutters beneath my touch like a trapped butterfly.

“Sure,” she husks out. Her eyes widen slightly, and I can see the moment her breath hitches in her throat. I trace my fingertips up her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.

I can sense her growing arousal, a heady perfume that mingles with the scent of the forest around us. She’s trying to hide it, to maintain her composure, but it’s as clear to me as if she’d spoken the words aloud.

I lean in, drawn to the curve of her shoulder like I’ve been pulled by a magnet. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of her skin – fear, arousal, and something I can’t put my finger on. Something I never encountered until I met her. It’s intoxicating, and I can feel my own body responding to the call of her blood.

“Here,” I murmur. “I will take blood from you here.” I press my lips to the delicate skin in the curve of her neck over her artery, feeling her sharp intake of breath. A small sound escapes from deep in her chest, and I can’t help but smile against her skin. I trail kisses along her throat, each one a silent promise of what’s to come.

When I reach the line of her jaw, she tips her head back. I trail the tip of my tongue along the ridges of her throat, feeling the movement as she swallows hard.

“Oh!” she says sharply as I nip her lightly, not biting, just taunting her, feeling her brace each time my teeth graze her.