Love Bites (13 page)

Rachel let her smile widen, then reached inside to pull out his member. She knew she had made a mistake the moment she leaned forward to take him in her mouth. The scent and taste of him made the urge to bite almost irresistible. Rachel could actually feel the blood pulsing and throbbing beneath the fragile skin covering his hard shaft.

Dear God, it would be like biting a sausage, she thought faintly. The juices would squirt thick and
sweet into her mouth, then slide down her throat and feed the craving that made her body ache so. The thought was oddly erotic. It was also rather horrifying. Rachel couldn't believe she was kneeling before a man, contemplating taking a chomp on the manhood that had given her so much pleasure the night before. Jeez, it seemed obvious she wasn't ready to go back to work yet. If she was contemplating this, no one would be safe from her hunger.

“Rachel?”

She lifted her eyes the length of his body and met his uncertain gaze, realizing she had gone still with him in her mouth. Giving herself a mental shake, she raised a hand to hold the base of his manhood and allowed her mouth to slide the length of his member, then back again. She could do this. She could resist. She had to, Rachel told herself firmly. She had to prove to herself that she could resist anything, that she would be safe around her co-workers, that even with temptation this close—in her mouth, in fact—she could prevail. A groan from Etienne encouraging her, Rachel slid her mouth along his length again, her tongue working his flesh with an interest that seemed focused on the bulging vein it followed. Just a little bite, her mind tempted. A nip, really. She pushed the thought aside and drew him nearly out of her mouth again, slowly becoming aware of his responses. Rachel had experienced the sensation several times with him already, their passion merging, heightening for
both of them into overwhelming waves of excitement and desire. This time was different, however. Her mind, preoccupied as it was with the need to feed, was not aroused, and so she was now experiencing only his passion and pleasure. It flooded her mind as if it were her own, filling every corner with the sensations he was experiencing, sensations of almost unbearable pleasure.

The feel of her own warm, moist mouth sliding the length of him was a pleasure she would never have experienced as a mere human. The scrape of her teeth over the tip of him made them both moan, and Rachel squeezed her thighs together as a new ache settled there. It was such pleasure-pain, she repeated the action several times until she was sure neither of them could stand it again without shattering.

Aware that these thoughts reflected Etienne's state as well as her own, and unwilling to end the pleasure so soon, Rachel changed the rhythm of her caresses. Etienne's disappointment touched her like his pleasure, and she smiled despite it. Sliding her free hand up his jean-encased thighs, she tightened the hold she had on the base of his manhood and twirled her tongue over his flesh.

“Rachel.” It was a plea for release, but she was feeling heartless. She was hungry—both for blood and pleasure. She wanted to make this an experience he wouldn't ever forget, and since she was experiencing
it with him, knowing exactly how it felt and affected him, she could.

Every woman should enjoy such mind-melding, she thought vaguely. They would never again doubt their ability to pleasure a man, or fumble about counting on him to verbalize what he liked or didn't. They would simply know, and do what felt good. They would also share in the enjoyment of the experience in a way not normally possible.

“God, Rachel.”

She ignored his pleading. She was feeling what he was feeling, and knew he was again ready to burst. So was she, so this time Rachel didn't change technique or rhythm. This time her hungers would not be denied.

He cried out and exploded into her mouth a heartbeat before her own body climaxed. Rachel's mind suffused with his pleasure and her own; then her newer instincts took over and she sank her canines into the vein her tongue had been toying with. She felt Etienne's startled reaction, then felt her own pleasure hit him as blood flowed through her teeth. The two sensations blended together, flowing back and forth between them from one mind to the other, seeming to strengthen each time it was exchanged until nothing could seem to hold on to it.

When Etienne began to sway before her, Rachel allowed her teeth to retract, freeing him. Then she sat back weakly as he dropped to his knees before her.
Her mind was struggling to accept the pleasure overwhelming her and was now suffused with weakness. Was it her own?

Etienne encompassed her in his arms, but his hold was light, barely there. When he spoke, his words were slurred and so faint that she couldn't grasp what he said. Then he began to tumble backward. Rachel tried to catch and help him stay upright, but she didn't seem to have the strength. She was sliding into the warm liquid darkness that had overwhelmed her after each lovemaking session with him.

This time was different, however. The other times, Rachel had been the only one overwhelmed, while Etienne—stronger and more used to the experience after three hundred years—had been her anchor. This time, he seemed to be slipping into that darkness with her. The realization gave her a sudden fright. Rachel wasn't sure if the alarm was her own or Etienne's, but as she slipped into unconsciousness, she knew that something was very wrong.

 

Rachel woke slowly, unsure what had disturbed her. She lay still for several moments, her cheek resting on something cool and hard. Her eyes were closed. She felt incredibly weak—drained, really—and didn't understand why. The memories of what had occurred in the garden swept through her mind and she smiled where she lay. That smile was quickly followed by a frown. She shouldn't be so weak. She had taken some
of Etienne's blood and should be stronger for it, not weak. Shouldn't she?

“Etienne?”

That far off shout roused her from her languid state, and Rachel opened her eyes to see the shapes and shadows of the garden. She was lying with her head resting on Etienne's chest amid the blooming night flowers. Moving slowly, she managed to raise herself enough to look over the plants that lined the path and glance toward the house. There was nothing to see; the house appeared as still and empty as it had when they'd first been locked out.

Sighing, Rachel allowed herself to drop back onto the cold ground again. She was both shocked and a bit frightened at the weakness she was suffering. With a turn of her head, she was able to peer at the pale outline of Etienne. He lay in the dewy grass beside her, his body gleaming in the moonlight. Rachel patted his chest weakly, but there was no response.

She felt concern claim her. “Etienne?” She nudged him with a little more force. “Etienne?”

“Etienne!” That male voice was an echo to her own. It sounded closer this time, but still muffled, as if heard through ear muffs or at a great distance. “Rachel? Dammit, you two—answer me! I can sense your presence, but it's too weak to follow.”

Despite that claim, the voice was drawing closer. Rachel barely had the chance to peer down at her clothes and make sure they were in order before she
heard the back door of the house slam. Rachel forced herself to sit up again as Bastien strode into view.

“There you two are.” He hurried toward them. “I was worried sick when Tom said there was no answer and the door was locked. I rushed over with Etienne's extra keys and—What the hell happened to the two of you?” he asked with alarm as he got close enough to see Etienne prostrate beside her. Then his gaze found his brother's body and his eyebrows flew up. “Oh.”

Rachel glanced at Etienne, flushing when she noted that his pants were still undone, his flaccid penis hanging out bearing a pair of unmistakable teethmarks.

“Oh, dear. You bit him, huh?”

Humiliated, not to mention too weak to stay upright, Rachel dropped to the ground with a moan. She let her arm flop over her face.

“Thomas, bring the blood!”

Rachel let her arm drop back in alarm. It was bad enough that Bastien was a witness to this moment, but to have Thomas there, too…Her panic eased a bit when she noticed Bastien kneeling beside Etienne and straightening his clothes.

“How are you feeling? Pretty bad, huh?”

Rachel glanced at Bastien, surprised by his solicitous tone. “Yes. I don't understand why, though.”

“You must have ingested too much blood,” he explained. He scowled at his unconscious brother. “Etienne shouldn't have let you. He knows better.”

“He was, er, preoccupied at the time,” Rachel admitted with another blush. She cleared her throat. “Why is it I shouldn't have—”

“You keep a certain number of nanos inside you, the perfect amount for your body. It replaces those that die when necessary, and kills off extra ones should they develop. A sudden influx of extra nanos from another vampire takes time for your body to process. In the meantime, those nanos consume blood, using it up at an accelerated rate. It's bad enough for such a thing to happen when you are well fed and full, but Etienne told me you've been underfeeding because you can't stand the taste of blood. And then too, neither of you had any available to you this morning—which is why Thomas came.”

As if on cue, Etienne's cousin came sauntering into view carrying a medical cooler. His gaze dropped over Etienne's unconscious form, then over Rachel's disheveled and weak state, but he merely smiled. “Hi, Dudette. Looks like I came in the nick of time.”

He opened the cooler and withdrew two bags of blood, handing one to Bastien, then taking the time to retrieve two straws from his pocket and stab them into the second bag. “I didn't think Etienne would have any straws, and I knew you'd want them so I picked some up at the corner store on the way over earlier,” he explained as he held out the doctored bag.

Rachel accepted it with a grateful smile and quickly affixed the straws to her teeth. The liquid in the bag
began to disappear at once, and she sighed with relief as her weakness and pain began to recede.

“Another bag, Thomas.” Bastien exchanged the already empty bag he had slammed into Etienne's teeth for a fresh one. He urged Etienne's mouth open again and popped the second pint into the teeth, too. Glancing from his brother to Rachel with concern, he asked, “How much did you take?”

Rachel gave an embarrassed shrug. She had no idea.

“Bit him, huh?” Thomas asked sympathetically. “It's a common occurrence with newbies.”

Bastien grunted what might have been agreement, but Rachel wasn't paying attention; she was watching with a sinking feeling as Thomas peered at his cousin. He frowned and asked, “Where did you bite him? I don't see the marks.”

“Get her another bag of blood, Thomas,” Bastien ordered, patting Rachel's knee. She flushed and squirmed where she sat. Her mouth was firmly closed. She wasn't going to admit where she'd bit him. Not in this lifetime.

“Sure.” Thomas took the empty bag from Rachel, pulled the straws free, grabbed a fresh bag, and fixed it up as he had the first, then handed it over with a smile, his question apparently forgotten. Rachel wasn't fooled, however. She had caught the exchange of glances and was sure the two men had communicated with their minds. She just hoped Bastien had
admonished him to let the subject go. A decidedly amused light filled the man's eyes.

Sighing miserably, Rachel slid the straws over her canines and allowed her teeth to do the work of ingesting the blood she sadly lacked.

Much to her surprise, Thomas patted her shoulder. “Not to worry, little one. This is all my fault, not yours.”

Rachel had a grim moment as she recalled these men could not only communicate with their minds, they could read thoughts. Bastien probably hadn't had to give away the location of the bite;
she
had probably done so herself without meaning to. Then she caught the man's words and peered at him curiously. How could he possibly claim it was his fault? Before she could unhook the straws from her teeth and ask, a moan from Etienne drew her attention.

“Relax,” Bastien ordered as Etienne's eyes popped open. He began to struggle to sit up. “You need a little more blood before you get physical.”

Etienne relaxed back on the ground, his eyes shifting until they landed on Rachel; then his hand slid across his stomach to touch her knee reassuringly. She supposed, or at least hoped, that this was a silent message that he wasn't upset. She felt better for it.

“This is becoming a bad habit, Etienne.”

Rachel and Etienne both glanced at Bastien in confusion as he popped yet another pint into his brother's mouth.

“This is what? The third time I've had to save you lately?”

Etienne managed a curse around the bag in his mouth, which Rachel found rather impressive. She didn't think she could speak intelligibly while ingesting—but then she supposed that Etienne had a couple hundred years' practice. She wondered, however, if it wasn't considered rude to speak while eating.
She
had been raised to believe that it was. For humans, at least.

“You are one of our people now, Rachel,” Bastien pointed out quietly. When she remained quiet, he turned to glance at Etienne. “So, you thought you saw Pudge out here earlier.”

This time, Etienne pulled the bag from his mouth before saying, “Stop reading my mind, Bastien. It's rude.”

“The thought was just lying about on the edges of your mind,” his brother said with a shrug. “Although it seems rather silly to be indulging in…er, anything if you thought Pudge was lurking about. He could have jumped the two of you while you were distracted.”

“I must have been seeing things,” Etienne groused. “I checked the yard and there was no sign of him. Then we let the door close and were locked out. We were waiting for Thomas to arrive so that he could call you and get you to bring my extra keys.”

“And you decided to share body heat and fluids
while waiting,” Thomas guessed. He laughed, earning a glare from Etienne. The younger man shrugged, giving Rachel an apologetic glance. “Sorry, Dudette. Couldn't resist that one.”