Blood Cure (Blood Type 3) - Page 59

She could see that he didn’t agree with her, but she didn’t care. What was one bite for the information they needed to stop Harrington? She knew how Beckham despised it. How much it made him feel like an animal. But they couldn’t dwell on that right now. They’d deal with the consequences later.

“I’m here. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he barely breathed.

“I do anyway.”

Reyna swallowed and then gently pulled her hair back off of her neck. This time she had no necklace to obscure access to her throat. She gathered all of her hair, brushing it to one side. She guided his hands to her hips. His grip was tentative at first then he seemed to remember the shape of her, sliding his hands up her sides to her shoulders.

Their eyes locked. Warm chocolate meeting the bottomless depths that had infatuated her from the start. She wasn’t afraid. She knew that this was a pivotal moment for them and she wanted to be here for it. She wanted him to know all the love that was in her heart. How little she feared him.

She took a breath and on the release opened up that connection between them. Tapped into whatever was between them that made her feel his presence, that linked their emotions. In that moment, she didn’t care that Graves was watching or that they had never done this before or about everything else they had to face. All that there was was her and Becks.

“It’s okay,” she said again.

She angled her head to give him better access. Then she held her breath. She knew that she shouldn’t be, but somehow she was turned on by this. Maybe because he’d only ever bitten her while they were having sex. Although, everything about Beckham was a turn-on. Even in this uncomfortable situation where they found themselves.

Not once in all the times that she’d been given the vamp venom had she ever gotten addicted. And Harrington had tried. But she was pretty certain she’d been addicted to Beckham and the intensity between them long before he’d bitten her. Nothing else could compare to that. She doubted anything else ever would.

Beckham’s lips grazed her neck. He trailed soft kisses up her throat. She stifled a moan and pressed her body into his.

The first prick jolted her. The pain as he pierced the skin of her neck. She shuddered at the feel. Then the venom flooded her system. A natural high from the bite. The fight or flight kicking in and adrenaline speeding through her, waking up everything.

When she’d first felt this, her body had immediately screamed Run. Run far far away. This man is going to kill you.

Now…

Fuck.

Now she just wanted more. More, more, more. More than she knew she should give. Her body pulsed. Her core was hot. She squeezed her legs together.

Even when he went deeper, dipping into the artery and drinking of her blood, all she felt was desire. Her desire and his desire. Their love and heat and longing and want. So much want. Her blood, her body, her mind, her soul. They were one and the same. He would take it all. She would give it all.

Her fingers curled into the front of his tuxedo. She couldn’t hold back her moan this time. She wanted. She needed.

Then she felt him pulling back.

She clamped down on him. “Please,” she gasped. “More.”

Beckham grasped her hips so hard he was going to leave bruises. Then he wrenched back, holding her at arm’s length. Her heart was racing, beating a million miles a minute. She felt ravenous.

“More,” she repeated.

And dizzy.

“Becks.”

And she was floating on clouds.

“Reyna,” Beckham said.

“Please.”

“I’d kill you.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Beckham growled low. “Come back to me, love. Come back.”

She closed her eyes and felt herself swirling away. She knew that it shouldn’t be this potent. That he must have taken a lot to get to this point. That it was more potent with an emotional connection. But she couldn’t seem to bring her logical brain around to caring.

Then Beckham’s lips were on hers. Hot and enticing and demanding. His tongue tasted of tangy blood. Her blood. She gave in. She’d fuck him right here on this floor. What would be the harm? She wanted him. She wanted everything.

And she knew that he wanted her too. She could feel it. Sense it. It overwhelmed her, it was so much. So much love and want. Fuck, the control the man had.

“Please,” she repeated.

Then she felt something else. Something different.

She didn’t know what it was. What was happening?

Her breath quickened. Her brain fizzled. Her body shook violently under it. And yet she didn’t pull back. She didn’t release him.

It was as if…she was pulling more than his emotions. As if he was giving her more. Giving her something she never thought possible to give.

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