Fresh Blood by Jennifer Colgan

forward slightly.
    The delicious sensation of her pushing
against him brought on the bloodlust. He bit down slowly, just
enough to let the blood well into a swollen drop beneath each fang.
As he licked those sweet drops, he slid one hand down the front of
her dress to cup the spot at the juncture of her thighs.
    She pushed back father, and a moan escaped
her lips. That’s when he began to drink.
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    Erica found the hard muscles of Max’s thigh
and squeezed with shaking fingers while she rubbed against his
cock. His lips on her skin were like fire, his body like a wall of
steel against her back.
    She’d never wanted anyone so badly. It wasn’t
like her at all to want to surrender, and it scared her. Part of
her soul that she never knew existed had burst free and was
clamoring for control. She wanted him to tell her what to do so she
wouldn’t have to wonder.
    “Please ...” she whispered finally when he
drew his lips away. His teeth slide out of her skin and rather than
relief that he was finished, she felt suddenly alone and without
purpose. “You can take more ...” Had she really said that? Did she
really want him to continue?
    “No, I can’t.” His voice was raw.
    She turned in his arms and leaned against
him. “Isn’t there more I need to learn?” Shame heated her cheeks at
the request. She had to be losing her mind. Why did she want him to
do this, to own her? She’d been an independent woman for all of her
adult life. She’d spent more than a decade resisting the limits
anyone else tried to impose on her, and now all she wanted was this
man, this vampire she hardly knew, to claim her and command
her.
    He grabbed her arms and shook her once, just
hard enough to remind her that giving her will over to him was a
dangerous idea.
    “There’s a lot you need to learn. First, you
don’t tell me what to take. I’ll take what I want.” He brought one
finger up and tilted her chin so she had to meet his gaze. His
voice softened. “If I take everything I want from you right now,
there will be nothing left, Erica. We can’t play like this, not
here where there’s nothing stopping me from making you mine.”
    Lost in his blazing eyes, she couldn’t
respond. Somewhere in her foggy thoughts a voice cried for him to
do it. She wanted him, and she hated herself for being so weak.
    He let her go and she sagged a little, her
breath escaping in a shuddering sigh. “This isn’t me,” she said
finally, wishing it were true. “I’m not usually like this.”
    “I know. Believe me when I tell you, I don’t
want to change you. I don’t want to turn you into exactly what
you’re trying to save your sister from.”
    Erica glanced up sharply. “I may not know you
very well, but that sounded like a lie, Mr. Hart.”
    A smile played at the corner of his mouth as
he rolled his sleeves down and retrieved his cuff-links. “You don’t
have to believe me, Erica. You just have to do as I say. Rule five:
Call me Max.”
     
    * * * *
     
    ‘Elegant’ was too mild a word to describe
Gregori’s. Like the finest human restaurants, it seemed that no
expense had been spared to make the place sparkle. Chandeliers hung
in the center of every room, and the ornate windows held thick
beveled panes of leaded glass that captured the reflections of
dozens of candles. Strings of miniature lights decorated the potted
trees that lined the main entry hall and each pinpoint of light
gleamed off the polished parquet floor.
    When Max and Erica arrived, an attendant took
their coats while the concierge checked their reservations and
showed them to a table that overlooked the huge central dance
floor.
    Erica relaxed when Max pulled out her chair
for her. She sat down and he ordered her a wine spritzer. This
place catered to her more delicate sensibilities, not the part of
her that had been screaming for release since Max left her wanting
and wondering in her apartment.
    She began to fantasize that after a