Read Online Midnight 01 - Luisa's Desire by authors_sort - Free Book Online Page B
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the dimness, wavering between trust and doubt. "Martin, when blood is offered freely an upyr does not, cannot, suborn her victim's will."
"She cannot?"
She combed his bristled hair around his ear. "No."
"Will you take very much?"
Luisa shuddered, aroused—or frightened—by a lingering fragment of her dream. "Enough to make you weak. But only for a while. When you recover you will be stronger than before, more resistant to harm or illness. The effect does not last forever: a week, possibly longer."
"No wonder those men—" He closed his mouth and flushed. "Forgive me. I did not mean to suggest you had no other charms."
"Were you thinking I took my harem against their will?"
"Well, I am sure you did not have to force them into your bed."
She laughed beneath her breath. "Thank you for that, though my scruples have not always been so fine. In this instance, I assure you their thrall was no more than any healthy young male might feel when an attractive woman offers him a sexual adventure. I may have added a few compulsions, of course, to ensure they did not speak of me where they should not."
"I imagine they were easier to control because they were young."
She saw he meant this as an observation and not an insult, but she squirmed beneath it nonetheless. "How uncomfortably perceptive you are! Yes, older men—or for that matter, younger men with strength of mind—are difficult to influence without the added coercion of a bite. As the years passed, I found I did not like to use that means."
"Friendship can be lonely when it is forced, or when it is not with an equal."
Tears sprang to her eyes at his understanding. Since her brush with death, Luisa had felt strangely vulnerable, not in body but in spirit—as if her heart had in truth been opened by her dream. His simple statement reached into the raw place, putting into words the yearning of many years.
"I have been lonely," she admitted. "That is why your… consideration for me means the world."
He smiled, an unexpectedly boyish grin. Seeing it, she was happy despite the danger to them both—not to mention to the achievement of her desire. Assurances aside, stopping before she hurt him would not be easy. Too much time had passed since she last fed and there were too many ways she found him appealing. With one nail she traced the strong blue thread that marked his neck. Her throat tightened. "Maybe I should not do this."
"My master says you must feed." Though Martin's expression was stubborn, worry lay beneath: worry and an intriguing glimmer of guilt. A muscle bunched in his jaw. "I want you to," he said, his innate honesty forcing the gruff admission. "I am curious to know how it feels."
She could not control the quickening of her pulse. So. He was curious. She skated her fingers down his vein and wet her lips. "It hurts for a moment, for the penetration." She lifted her eyes to his. "After that, it is erotic. Taking blood is the most intimate act a child of midnight can perform."
"More intimate than sex?"
His voice was husky. A quick, sharp sting told her her teeth had sharpened to feeding length. "More intimate than sex," she agreed, "though drawing what we need from another's veins awakens that desire as well."
"You will refrain from indulging it, though, won't you?"
"You may not want me to. Humans find the act exciting, too."
"I have faced attraction before. I am not afraid."
But he should have been. Martin could not guess how strong the urge to join could be, a frenzy of lust that sometimes hours of bed play could not sate.
"My resolve is strong," he said, sensing her hesitance. "I do not fear to put it to the test."
Her smile, gentle as it was, must have been too knowing. His eyes narrowed and he yanked the wrap of his robe halfway down his front. Her smile froze as her body heated. His muscles were tight and flat, their edges chiseled, their
"She cannot?"
She combed his bristled hair around his ear. "No."
"Will you take very much?"
Luisa shuddered, aroused—or frightened—by a lingering fragment of her dream. "Enough to make you weak. But only for a while. When you recover you will be stronger than before, more resistant to harm or illness. The effect does not last forever: a week, possibly longer."
"No wonder those men—" He closed his mouth and flushed. "Forgive me. I did not mean to suggest you had no other charms."
"Were you thinking I took my harem against their will?"
"Well, I am sure you did not have to force them into your bed."
She laughed beneath her breath. "Thank you for that, though my scruples have not always been so fine. In this instance, I assure you their thrall was no more than any healthy young male might feel when an attractive woman offers him a sexual adventure. I may have added a few compulsions, of course, to ensure they did not speak of me where they should not."
"I imagine they were easier to control because they were young."
She saw he meant this as an observation and not an insult, but she squirmed beneath it nonetheless. "How uncomfortably perceptive you are! Yes, older men—or for that matter, younger men with strength of mind—are difficult to influence without the added coercion of a bite. As the years passed, I found I did not like to use that means."
"Friendship can be lonely when it is forced, or when it is not with an equal."
Tears sprang to her eyes at his understanding. Since her brush with death, Luisa had felt strangely vulnerable, not in body but in spirit—as if her heart had in truth been opened by her dream. His simple statement reached into the raw place, putting into words the yearning of many years.
"I have been lonely," she admitted. "That is why your… consideration for me means the world."
He smiled, an unexpectedly boyish grin. Seeing it, she was happy despite the danger to them both—not to mention to the achievement of her desire. Assurances aside, stopping before she hurt him would not be easy. Too much time had passed since she last fed and there were too many ways she found him appealing. With one nail she traced the strong blue thread that marked his neck. Her throat tightened. "Maybe I should not do this."
"My master says you must feed." Though Martin's expression was stubborn, worry lay beneath: worry and an intriguing glimmer of guilt. A muscle bunched in his jaw. "I want you to," he said, his innate honesty forcing the gruff admission. "I am curious to know how it feels."
She could not control the quickening of her pulse. So. He was curious. She skated her fingers down his vein and wet her lips. "It hurts for a moment, for the penetration." She lifted her eyes to his. "After that, it is erotic. Taking blood is the most intimate act a child of midnight can perform."
"More intimate than sex?"
His voice was husky. A quick, sharp sting told her her teeth had sharpened to feeding length. "More intimate than sex," she agreed, "though drawing what we need from another's veins awakens that desire as well."
"You will refrain from indulging it, though, won't you?"
"You may not want me to. Humans find the act exciting, too."
"I have faced attraction before. I am not afraid."
But he should have been. Martin could not guess how strong the urge to join could be, a frenzy of lust that sometimes hours of bed play could not sate.
"My resolve is strong," he said, sensing her hesitance. "I do not fear to put it to the test."
Her smile, gentle as it was, must have been too knowing. His eyes narrowed and he yanked the wrap of his robe halfway down his front. Her smile froze as her body heated. His muscles were tight and flat, their edges chiseled, their