Blood Moon (MalexMale Paranormal Fantasy)

Chapter 14 ∞ DAIRE

"Thank you, Kassel." Reeve reaches over and unstraps the tent bag from the bottom of my hiking pack.

"Let's set it up there." I point to a spot nearer to the rush of stream water and a better view of the yellow wildflowers and verdant mountain vista, though I suppose the scenery hardly matters when I know I'll spend most of my time looking at him.

After dinner, we lay side by side on top of my opened sleeping bag with the door flap flipped open listening to the faint rustling of the cool wind outside. I stretch on my back and Reeve does the same, though he's restless, rolling his head from one side to the other.

"Is it your shift that's bothering you?"

"No."

"What is it? You haven't stopped fidgeting since we got in here."

The gray of his eyes lights with something I can only describe as trouble. "You haven't had any blood since you've come to our pack, have you?"

"It's fine." I wave it off. "I got some blood when I was in Serpent Valley the other day. I can continue doing that."

"You got blood in the valley? How?"

"Bought a bag of it."

Reeve rolls onto his side and props himself on an elbow, head resting in his large palm. I can see him wrestling with whatever it is he's about to say. "And that satisfied your need?"

I shrug. "Enough. Though, there's nothing that can compare to a live vein," I say, mostly to shock him.

His eyes shrink into piercing slits and his breathing thickens.

Not the response I expected. "What is it?"

His focus drifts from my mouth to my bare chest. "I was wondering if you'd like to drink from me."

My eyes blow wide in surprise and my fangs throb as breaths shudder out of me, and I scramble for an answer, any coherent answer, but words are too hard right now. I want it so badly and dread it just as much. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't.

My very interested cock demands attention as I rub a hand over my face, stalling. "I'm not sure that's a good idea." My throat is dry, too dry to sound very convincing. This is what I've wanted since even before meeting him and now I fear one taste won't be nearly enough.

"Consider it my own offer of peace." He grips my hand and squeezes it.

"No, Reeve, it can't be because you think you owe me something."

"I want it. I want this with you." He pauses and licks his parted lips before adding, "I want to give it to you."

That statement arouses me in ten different ways—new ways, potent ways that I'm not prepared for. I swallow thickly, searching his face and body for any apprehension. I don't find so much as a muscle twitch.

I lick my lips, quickly calculating the potential fallout from this decision. "We can try it, but if it starts hurting you in any way, you tell me to pull off. That's non-negotiable."

"Deal," he says, eyes flaring with entirely too much desire. "Where do you want to take it from?"

Satu, help me. Somewhere neutral. "Your wrist."

My heart pounds a nearly deafening beat in my ears as he lifts his arm to my mouth, inching in with a gleam of discovery in his eyes. I stroke his hand and place a gentle kiss over the vein. Doing this with him feels sacred, like each touch cements our fate, setting us both firmly on an inescapable course.