Read Online Eternal Beauty: Mark of the Vampire (A Penguin Special from Signet Eclipse) by Laura Wright - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Wright
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it.”
“Is that right?”
“Indeed. And afterward, it will be you who offers the overly polite, ‘thank you.’”
“You’re arrogant as shit, you know that?”
“Yes.”
“And barbaric.”
“Welcome to your world,
Veana
.”
She stared at him, nostrils flaring. “Well, I don’t think I want it.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
He cocked his head and stared at her neck. “I see your vein pulsing as I speak, Love. I see your eyes dilating. Your mind may be trying to convince you otherwise, but the desire to submit is written all over your face.” He leaned in, nostrils flaring, and sniffed. “And I’m willing to bet if you were stripped bare right now, a male would find that desire displayed in other areas on your person as well.”
She looked stunned and livid and shit, aroused. What was he doing? Christ, what the hell was he doing? This was about hunger, not desire. This was about caring for his body, not punishing it.
“Petra . . .” he began, but she cut him off.
Closing the space between them, she practically growled at him. “I may live among Shifters,” she said menacingly, her eyes flaring with ire and heat and confusion, “but you are the true animal.”
His mind died in that moment, as did his soul. She was near and he was starved. For blood, for heat . . . for the feel of a female’s skin . . .
He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Crikey, her body fit his far too well. His breath came out in a rush, and he took her mouth like he wanted to take her blood. Tears behind his eyes, caught in his throat and his chest, he forced every thought out of his head, every memory from his unbeating heart—and every shred of decency he had left, and just kissed her. She tasted sweet and perfect, and her lips were warm and soft. She responded instantly to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his passionate assault as if she too wanted to release some great heaviness of shame and guilt. With a moan of pleasure, he ran his tongue over her top lip, and when she met him with her own wet heat, he felt his cock stir.
Fuck.
Bloody hell.
He eased back until she was forced to release him. For several long seconds, they stared at one another, breathing heavy, skin flushed with desire. Syn had no idea what was going on in her head, but what was going on in his was brutal. He was a cock-up, a prat, a rogue, and a rat bastard. He deserved to be strung up by his fangs for touching another female.
“I’m famished,” he said in lieu of an excuse or an apology. “In pain. I need your blood now before I lose what little control I have left.”
Her skin was pink and the scent of her arousal in the air couldn’t be missed by either one of them, and yet she nodded and stepped back. “Will it hurt? Will I be weak afterward?”
“There is a moment of pain, as you felt in the clinic. But it doesn’t last.” He went over to the wood bathtub and sat down, rested his back against the side. “You may feel tired afterward, or you may feel energized. I’m not sure how your body will react.”
“I’m nervous.”
“But you’re willing?” He wasn’t about to fight her for it. Shite, right now he was out of fight.
Without a word, she came to sit beside him. And after several deep breaths, she lifted her chin and offered him her wrist.
Synjon didn’t say anything more. Frankly, he was so amped up, heavy with desire, and ravenous with hunger, whatever came out of his mouth at this point would probably be grunts and groans. So he gave in to his true and honest need and became a Pureblood vampire
paven
.
He brought her wrist to his lips, and within the space of a breath, his fangs plunged into her vein.
* * *
The rush of heat, pain and undeniable pleasure moving through Petra was mind-boggling. At first, when his fangs had entered her skin, pricked her vein, she’d wanted to pull away, rescind their bargain and get the hell out of the
“Is that right?”
“Indeed. And afterward, it will be you who offers the overly polite, ‘thank you.’”
“You’re arrogant as shit, you know that?”
“Yes.”
“And barbaric.”
“Welcome to your world,
Veana
.”
She stared at him, nostrils flaring. “Well, I don’t think I want it.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
He cocked his head and stared at her neck. “I see your vein pulsing as I speak, Love. I see your eyes dilating. Your mind may be trying to convince you otherwise, but the desire to submit is written all over your face.” He leaned in, nostrils flaring, and sniffed. “And I’m willing to bet if you were stripped bare right now, a male would find that desire displayed in other areas on your person as well.”
She looked stunned and livid and shit, aroused. What was he doing? Christ, what the hell was he doing? This was about hunger, not desire. This was about caring for his body, not punishing it.
“Petra . . .” he began, but she cut him off.
Closing the space between them, she practically growled at him. “I may live among Shifters,” she said menacingly, her eyes flaring with ire and heat and confusion, “but you are the true animal.”
His mind died in that moment, as did his soul. She was near and he was starved. For blood, for heat . . . for the feel of a female’s skin . . .
He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Crikey, her body fit his far too well. His breath came out in a rush, and he took her mouth like he wanted to take her blood. Tears behind his eyes, caught in his throat and his chest, he forced every thought out of his head, every memory from his unbeating heart—and every shred of decency he had left, and just kissed her. She tasted sweet and perfect, and her lips were warm and soft. She responded instantly to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his passionate assault as if she too wanted to release some great heaviness of shame and guilt. With a moan of pleasure, he ran his tongue over her top lip, and when she met him with her own wet heat, he felt his cock stir.
Fuck.
Bloody hell.
He eased back until she was forced to release him. For several long seconds, they stared at one another, breathing heavy, skin flushed with desire. Syn had no idea what was going on in her head, but what was going on in his was brutal. He was a cock-up, a prat, a rogue, and a rat bastard. He deserved to be strung up by his fangs for touching another female.
“I’m famished,” he said in lieu of an excuse or an apology. “In pain. I need your blood now before I lose what little control I have left.”
Her skin was pink and the scent of her arousal in the air couldn’t be missed by either one of them, and yet she nodded and stepped back. “Will it hurt? Will I be weak afterward?”
“There is a moment of pain, as you felt in the clinic. But it doesn’t last.” He went over to the wood bathtub and sat down, rested his back against the side. “You may feel tired afterward, or you may feel energized. I’m not sure how your body will react.”
“I’m nervous.”
“But you’re willing?” He wasn’t about to fight her for it. Shite, right now he was out of fight.
Without a word, she came to sit beside him. And after several deep breaths, she lifted her chin and offered him her wrist.
Synjon didn’t say anything more. Frankly, he was so amped up, heavy with desire, and ravenous with hunger, whatever came out of his mouth at this point would probably be grunts and groans. So he gave in to his true and honest need and became a Pureblood vampire
paven
.
He brought her wrist to his lips, and within the space of a breath, his fangs plunged into her vein.
* * *
The rush of heat, pain and undeniable pleasure moving through Petra was mind-boggling. At first, when his fangs had entered her skin, pricked her vein, she’d wanted to pull away, rescind their bargain and get the hell out of the
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