Chapter 6 Sanguine

• Helaine
• I let out a pathetic little whimper when I felt the sting of the first cut, but I also heard the sharp rasp to his breath. It was like he was struggling to control himself, and however much the blade stung, it was worth it to hear him so thoroughly wrecked.
• I didn’t hold back my cries as he continued to slice my skin in what felt as though he was probably cutting intricate patterns into my flesh, and it seemed to spur him on.
• I had gone dumb with pleasure—more than anything physical, I was getting off on the fact that he had made me his canvas.
• I let out a loud wail when I came, my pussy clenching helplessly around nothing, and soon after I was startled by the metallic clatter of the knife hitting the floor.
• My eyes widened in horror—not at my blood still clinging to the blade, but at Evan’s face reflected in the steel. He looked monstrous, his eyes glowing inhumanly red, fangs protruding from his mouth as he loomed over me, unaware that I had seen.
• His tongue trailed up my back at the same time that I let out a frightened gasp.
• “Sanguine!”
• He let out a feral growl, but I heard his footsteps back away from me nonetheless, and the horrible animal-like panting.
• “I want to see your face,” I ordered, my heart thumping so hard I thought it might explode right out of my chest.
• “What are you talking about?” He panted, his voice hoarse as he tried, and failed, to sound composed.
• “I saw your face in the knife.” The panting stopped, and he had gone as silent as the grave. “I need you to look me in the eyes, right now.”
• At first, I didn’t know what to expect, but then I heard him sigh before he stepped in front of me.
• Just like the reflection, his usually mahogany eyes were an unnatural red, my blood still smeared across his face.
• I didn’t know what to think—I was terrified, but I must have been in shock, because I was holding it together pretty well, given the situation. I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
• “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he choked out, having nothing to say in his own defense.
• “I get it now,” I whispered, as if on autopilot. “This is why you felt so familiar—I didn’t quite recognize you out of your old stage makeup, but you’re E.V. Rose.”
• He closed his eyes tightly, taking in a deep breath through his nose.
• “That’s why the theories upset you so much,” I put the pieces together. “But, what about the others—”
• “Dead,” He hissed.
• “But you—”
• “I said they’re dead,” he snarled, before shutting his eyes again, shaking the anger off of his face as I trembled in fear of him. “Let it go, please.”
• I hated the way my heart raced. My body screamed at me to run, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do tied up and suspended from his ceiling like this. “Are you going to kill me?”
• “No.” His voice was softer this time, as was the look in his eyes. “But I am going to erase your memory before I send you home.”
• My brow furrowed. “No, you’re not.”
• I didn’t know where the power in my voice had come from, but it startled us both. “I don’t want to forget, I want you to feed on me.”
• He looked at me like I had slapped him across the face, but I was unyielding.
• “Once a month—you’re paying for it anyway.”
• “I swear, I had no intention of biting you tonight.” He eyed me desperately. “I was only having a taste—”
• “Bullshit.”
• “It’s the truth,” he hissed, looking equal parts guilty and offended. “I’ve wanted you for so long now, I wanted to savor you,” he all but growled, his eyes seeming to glow brighter. “If I just wanted a snack, any pretty thing off the street would do . . . but I want you.”
• “Then take me.”
• “Not in those ropes.” I eyed him questioningly as he moved to the lever to lower me down. “I want you to know you can trust me.”
• “Trust you?” I asked as he worked to untie me. “You’re a fucking vampire.”
• “A vampire who honored the safeword.” He stared into my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me or kill me. “Don’t forget that.”
• He stalked away before I could even say anything, and I stared after him, transfixed.
• He wasn’t wrong.
• He had honored the safeword, and went so far as to untie me. He had a knife in my back—if he wanted to hurt me, he had ample opportunity.
• Of course, that probably explained the bad vibes.
• “Here,” he grunted as he walked back to me, with a very old box in his hands. “Open it.”
• I eyed him curiously, but did as he asked, and gasped when I saw the small knife in the box, nestled safely in the plush velvet. “Evan, is that—”
• “Silver.” He nodded. “I want you to trust that I’m serious when I say that I’m not going to kill you.”
• “Why do you trust me?” I asked, shaking my head and closing the box.
• “I don’t.” He smiled wryly. “But I want to.” He sat the box down on the coffin. “And I thought that the first step would be to level the playing field . . . sort of.”
• “I . . . appreciate that.” I was suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I was naked, and he was still fully dressed. I wasn’t sure of exactly how much I really trusted that this wasn’t going to end with my throat ripped out, but I was already here—what did I have to lose? “But . . . ”
• “But what?” He asked, his eyes locked firmly onto mine.
• “Why are you still dressed?”
• His eyes widened as he processed what had just come out of my mouth, but just as quickly, he was racing to get out of his clothes—fabric tore, and buttons went flying, but soon he was as naked as me, and he was on me in an instant.
• I slipped my hand between us, and he let out a low groan when I wrapped my hand around his cock.
• “Pretty sure I’m supposed to take you to dinner first.” He grinned as his hands cupped my asscheeks, though his pupils had blown wide with lust.
• I leaned forward, so close that his lips parted like he thought I was going to kiss him. “I am dinner,” I whispered against his lips, before taking his bottom lip between my teeth.
• Fuck.
• There was a metallic taste on his lips, and I realized almost immediately that I was tasting my own blood.
• I knew I shouldn’t have found that so hot, but I couldn’t help it.
• He kissed me hard as he hoisted me up, settling me in his lap as he sat down into the plush red couch.
• I stroked his cock as I straddled him, and he growled against my mouth. “Sit on it.”
• It was an order, and if there was one thing I was sure of after the night we’d had, it was that I was a good girl.
• We moaned into each other’s mouths as I sank down onto him, drinking in each other’s pleasure as I adjusted to the fullness of his cock inside of me.
• “Fuck, Evan.”
• “Helaine,” he growled, his eyes glowing brighter when I started to rock my hips.
• I felt like a princess, the way he was looking at me—like a princess that had been sacrificed to some wild beast.
• I whined when his hand went between us, his thumb circling my clit as I bounced on top of him.
• “You’re so fucking good,” he hissed.
• I grinned at him, and it was the only warning he got before I leaned forward, sinking my teeth into his neck.
• He gasped in surprise, but his surprise soon gave way to amusement as he gripped my jaw, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “What was that?”
• “I don’t know.” I grinned down at him. “I thought you might be into that kind of thing.”
• “Oh I am.” His grip tightened, and I let out a small gasp. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
• A scream ripped its way through my throat as his fangs sunk in.
• It was agony like I’d never felt before, but it was also pleasure. Hot, unnatural, unbearable pleasure that ravaged my whole body as he continued to fuck me harder and faster, as though I had never existed for anything else.
• I think it was me that screamed his name—I couldn’t quite be sure, my body didn’t feel like it belonged to me anymore.
• “Fuck,” he growled, his fingernails digging into my soft flesh of my ass, pulling me close.
• I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, even as I panted and gasped for air above him.
• I was pretty sure I was alive, especially when his hands came up to cup my face, his eyes back to their usual mahogany color.
• “Are you still with me?” He asked me, his thumb softly stroking my lips.
• I was.
• Vampires weren’t supposed to exist, but he did. He had fed on me, and I—I was still alive.
• It felt strange, floating high on this bliss, looking down at a man with my blood smeared across his face, but I couldn’t help but kiss him.
• He smiled against my lips, pulling me up so that we could lay on the couch together, damn near swallowed up by the outrageously plush cushions.
• “So,” he asked, pushing my hair out of my face. “Are you . . . coming back next month?”
• I smiled, before lightly nipping his neck, craning up to whisper into his ear, “Just make sure to keep the cookies and juice stocked.”