Quote of the Day

 "First Hunger," he announced.

But the words meant nothing.

I looked down at his long fingers on my arm, and felt the warm rush of fire again. I curled my toes against it, reveled in the heat of it.

This meant something. The feeling, the need, the thirst. I looked up at Ethan, dragging my gaze past the triangle of skin that showed through the top, unfastened button of his shirt, then the column of his neck, the strong line of his jaw, and the sensuous curves of his lips.

I wanted blood, and I wanted it from him.

"Ethan," I whispered in a voice so husky I barely recognized it.

Ethan's lips parted, and I saw the flash of silver in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by smoky green. I edged closer to his body, wet my lips, and then, without a single thought as to the consequences or what the act admitted, pressed them to his throat. He smelled so good - clean, soapy, everything male and masculine. He tasted so good - of power and man. The ends of his hair brushed my cheek as I kissed the long line of his neck.

"Ethan," I whispered again, his name an invitation.

A promise.

He went statue-still as I pressed a kiss to the skin just below his ear. I could hear blood singing in the veins that lay millimeters below the press of my teeth. Then he sighed, and the sound echoed through my head, an acknowledgment of shared passion, of mutual desire.

 

{snip}

"Liege, you can't feed her the first time. She needs human or Novitiate blood. You've got too much power for a first feeding. She's strong enough as it is."

Ethan growled but didn't move. He stayed exactly where he was, beneath my lips, a silent submission. Pleased, I slid my hands around his waist.

"Get her off him, Lucas!"

I felt the cold touch again - a drop of chilled water against my heated skin. Irritating. Unwelcome. It was my conscience, I realized, begging me to wake up, to shoulder through the hunger. But superego warred with deep-seated instinct and latent attraction.

I'd won.

I growled and flicked the tip of my tongue against his ear, ignoring my own warnings. "Ethan."

"Luc, you'll have to - I haven't - " He groaned earthily - and God, what a sound, thick enough to touch - as I trailed a line of kisses down his neck. "I haven't fed in two days.

Merit, you have to stop." Given that he was leaning into my body when he said it, his words lacked conviction.

Chloe Neill's Some Girls Bite (Chicagoland Vampires #1)