Cold Kisses

18. Next -› Heat

Verity

I woke up in a frantic mess. A blood curling scream had left my lips seconds prior to my awakening. My body was shaking and tears streamed down my face. I shook my head, letting another scream leave my chapped lips before I could stop it. My fists clenched down on the duvet, tearing the fabric with my claw-like nails. I ran my tongue over my teeth and to my horror, the feeling of my fangs met me. They throbbed and ached, causing pain to shot through my body. 

I groaned in pain and stood up. On unsteady legs, I walked towards the door. My body craved only one thing: blood. If I didn't get it quickly, I would turn to the monster everyone here already thought I was. I forced myself to walk downstairs, even if my body begged me to go to Hunter. Every ounce of my energy went to stop myself from obeying the commands of my hunger. I hadn't drunk from someone I knew in years. And I wasn't going to start now. 

As I entered the kitchen, I saw to my utter surprise that a big glass had been placed on the table. It was filled with a crimson liquid and with one sniff, I realised it was in fact filled with blood. Blood that smelled fantastic and like no other. I quickly grabbed the glass and drowned the content within seconds. When I was done, I put the glass in the sink.

I couldn't really understand it. Why was I so hungry only hours after drinking from that rouge? I shouldn't be craving food so early. Unless I lost a significant amount of energy during the night. My eyes widened and my hand went to my neck. I sighed in relief when I couldn't feel any pain from a new mark. So we didn't have sex yesterday, that's good. But the problem remained - I shouldn't have been hungry this early.

A frustrated groan left my lips and I sat down on the table, staring up at the ceiling as I pondered my situation.

"Good morning." His husky voice met my ears and I turned around.

Hunter stood in the doorway, eyes observing me. He was only wearing a pair of boxers. I shamelessly let my eyes roam his figure. His hair was messy and resembled a bird's nest, like he just got out of bed. A somewhat panicky look was present in his golden eyes. My ears picked up the sound of his heart - it was beating fast, pounding against his ribcage. 

Had he been running?

"Morning," I greeted him. "Slept well?"

"I did until someone decided to scream bloody murder," he muttered. "Scared the living crap out of me, thought you were getting murdered and shit."

Oh. So that's why his heart was beating so rapidly?

"Um, sorry?"

He just waved his hand, walking past me towards the fridge. I noticed how his head turned to the table for a second. 

"Was it good?"

I looked up. "Sorry?"

"The blood," he murmured. "Did it taste good?"

"Oh, um, yes." I actually blushed, feeling ashamed of myself. Strangely, I was worried what he would think of me. "It was quite delicious."

Was that a smirk I saw on his face? He turned to the fridge, opening the door and grabbing the milk carton.

 "Good to know, good to know," he mumbled under his breath as he grabbed a glass. 

I tilted my head, staring at him for a second before I saw the tiny puncture wound on his forearm, by the antecubital fossa. It had probably been abused by a syringe, giving the fact that the cephalic vein was there and easy to reach. Which meant he must have had an IV there sometime recently. What if it was his blood I drank?

"It was yours." 

My statement fell from my lips before I could stop it, catching him off-guard. He peered at me over the brim of the glass, eyes for once soft and gentle. 

"Yes," he said after finishing his glass. "I'm pleased you find it so delicious."

I stared at him, my mouth slightly ajar. Never in a million years had I though he would actually offer his blood for me to fed on. He, with such a distaste and hatred for vampires, had let someone draw blood from him and pour it into a glass. For me. 

"There's more in the fridge," he muttered, scratching the nape of his neck. "The doctor put them in those blood bags, so you can just cut one open and pour it into a glass or something."

He looked so uncomfortable, his nose scrunched up. If he disliked it so much, why didn't they just get blood elsewhere? Though, I guess, perhaps he didn't want me to drink from another person, since he and his wolf considered me theirs. Possessive much, no?

"Why?" My voice was low, but he heard me.

Apparently we had changed subject, for his trademark smirk was back on his face now. "Because your heat is nearing. Only a few days left."

I choked on my saliva when he said that. What? Come to think of it, it would explain why I was so hungry and why I felt like I had no energy left. My body would prepare itself for heat and would therefore need to store energy by making me drink more blood. 

"But how?" I spluttered. "You haven't even marked me properly yet! The mark is even fading right now as we speak. I shouldn't be close to going into heat. Hell, I shouldn't even be going into heat. That's only something animals do."

He inched closer, his face millimetres from mine. His hands were on each side of my legs, the tip of his thumps lightly touching the side of my thighs.

"You're mated to a werewolf, darling. You have to abide to our rules." His eyes flickered down to my lips. "Sooner or later, you will crave my touch and beg me to fuck you. And I will do as you say. I promise you, Verity, I will fuck you into oblivion."

He looked at me, cocking his head to the side as if asking if he could proceed. With some hesitation, I finally nodded. I was curious now. He had changed his behaviour so suddenly it almost creeped me out. But it also tickled my curiosity.

Slowly, as if testing my consent, he locked the distance between our lips. The touch was gently and barely there. It was like he was holding a feather against my lips. I smiled and brought my arms up, wrapping them around his neck. One swift pull and his crashed into mine. Our lips melted into one. I eagerly kissed him. My body had been starving from his warmth. 

It was crazy how much my body wanted him, how just one gentle caress from him stilled the raging war inside me. 

I sighed into the kiss and let my hand wander to his hair, twisting the strands between my fingers. He purred into my lips and stroked my bottom lip with his tongue. I let my mouth fall open, content with the feelings it brought. 

His sudden change of approach was alarming, but who was I to complain? He was gentle, soft, nice even. It had been so long since I had felt those things from someone other than my best friend. A part of me needed it.

I closed my eyes and let the emotions guide me through this heaven.