Her deadly kiss was near, but he welcomed it.
He buried his fangs deep in her breast and she held him, the way a mother might cradle a child, while he fed on milk-spiced blood. But then she gently eased his head back, enough to expose the rising pulse beating at his neck. Bending her head, she sank her fangs through the fragile barrier of his skin.
Blood rushed, hot and sweet, awakening the kind of passion that only vampires could share. The little love drug he had added to their drinks earlier that night ramped up the passion surging through their bodies. As his partner murmured a growly complaint that she was still hungry, he said, “It’s the juice. It’ll pass once you sip a little more.”
And once he had a little more, he thought, as he tried to sate his need from her sweet breast. When they finally ripped away from each other their bodies were supercharged—sexually and violently. Their fangs, stained crimson from their feast, retracted as they surged together for a kiss, bodies naked and heated from the torrent of immortal blood rushing through their veins and the potent chemical mix of the drug.
Over and over they kissed, licking the last remnants of blood from their lips, but soon that wasn’t enough.
He pulled away from her, unseeing of anything other than the perfection of her body as he trailed his hands across her warm skin, flush with the life bestowed by his blood. He kissed the tip of her breast where he had been feeding just moments earlier.
There wasn’t even a hint of his bite there, since she had already healed.
He suckled the tip and she moaned, reached down and unerringly found the head of his erection and stroked it, pulling a needy groan from him.
Their passion was too great for prolonged foreplay, he knew. Besides, his blood seemed to be sizzling in his veins from the demand to devour every part of her in every possible way.
He dragged her beneath him and onto the plush cushions of the settee in their private dining room, and without further delay he drove into her, seeking satisfaction.
His thrusts grew stronger, more violent, yanking a strangled gasp from her as the craving to feed rose again, potent and more demanding than anything he had ever experienced. For a fleeting moment, he wondered how long it would take for the kick of the love drug they had ingested earlier to subside.
He shook his head, nearly light-headed from the strength of his lust. He felt that if he didn’t taste her life’s blood again, he would die from the want of it.
As his gaze met hers, he realized she was feeling the same overwhelming pull of hunger.
Surging toward each other, they bared their fangs once again and attacked, fury replacing any other wants, driving them to the darkest corners known to their immortal kind.
Meghan Thomas was just adding some cream to her porcini mushroom sauce when she sensed it.
Meghan didn’t really know what “it” was, but her vampire powers told her that something was very wrong. The other vamps in the kitchen sensed it as well. From the bus boys to the other chef a few stations down, they were all aware of something odd. It had to be something powerfully wrong for vampires of all ages, even someone as new to the undead world as she was, to feel “it.”
She took the pan off the flame and put it to the side just as Diego Rivera, part owner of the restaurant and her mentor of sorts, pushed through the door into the kitchen. Diego looked around and then he faced her.
“Is everything okay in here, Meghan?”
Wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her apron, she walked up to him and said, “Yes, but you feel something as well, don’t you?”