Blood Debt: A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance (Kingdom of Blood Book 1) by Callie Rose (rosie project TXT) 📕

the prince and Rome both tapped into somehow, the part of me that craves their touch like a suicidal cow being led to the slaughter. My breath is raspy, and I can feel Connor responding—half aroused, half timid, like he doesn’t know if I’m turned on or afraid of him.

I’m not afraid of him, I know that much for sure. I also know that I’m supposed to be playing the role of an eager tribute, so my feelings don’t really matter anyway.

Dragging in a breath, I bite my lip and nod. It’s a mistake to meet his eyes as I do, because they darken with a blazing heat, and something in my body responds to it.

Changing course slightly, Connor dances me to the edge of the floor, then tucks my arm in his—a clumsy imitation of a classic gesture, but still kind of nice—and leads me through the crowd toward the large doors on one side of the room.

As we pass Nathan’s table, I can’t help stealing a quick peek at my brother. He’s been much better about not looking at me or acknowledging me in public, and I do my best to ignore him too so that no one will realize we know each other, but I can’t help worrying about him.

He’s looking a bit better, the dark circles beneath his eyes fading a little, and I let out a relieved breath. Maybe the remnants of whatever drugs he was on are finally out of his system.

But even as I feel that weight lifting off my chest, I notice a female vampire crossing the room toward my brother with a ravenous, seductive look on her face. My stomach twists itself into knots all over again.

He may be clean, but he’s still not safe.

Chapter Fifteen

We step out into the quiet corridor, and I do my best to shake off the parting image of the brunette bloodsucker making a beeline for Nathan.

Connor leads me a little way down the hall, looking as nervous and excited as a kid on prom night. Part of me wants to reassure him, which is stupid. What kind of vampire needs reassurance before he bites somebody?

Then again, what kind of vampire uses his food for dancing lessons? I might just have to accept that Connor isn’t your average vamp.

I brace myself against the wall but smile at him.

Dammit all, I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his food.

But his breath catches in his throat as he licks his lips, and I can’t look away from his gaze. His hands tremble slightly as he cups my face, turning my head aside to expose my throat. His breath is hot and fast on my skin. Jesus, I feel like I’m deflowering a virgin. I never have known how to feel about that.

His lips linger lightly on my neck, right at my pulse. He kisses me softly and flicks his tongue against my skin—not like he’s tasting it, but like he’s feeling it. He’s still so close to being human, it isn’t fucking fair. It’s too easy for me to pretend this is something it isn’t.

My body is already buzzing with heat and adrenaline, but Connor hesitates, moving his mouth over me with agonizing slowness. I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or if he’s working up his nerve. Either way, the waiting is beginning to fray my nerves.

I put my hands on his back, just over his hips, and press my body close to his. His breath deepens as he relaxes, and then I feel them—his sharp fangs scraping over my skin. Anticipation makes my stomach clench and my knees weak, and I grab him a little harder for support. His breath quickens again, but he’s not hesitating anymore.

His teeth pierce my skin, more painful than Rome but far less so than James. He pauses after he’s in and just… holds me. I allow myself to be comforted by his touch, his nearness, the barrier of him between me and the world—even though he’s doing what the rest of the vampires would do if he gave them the chance.

It seems different, somehow, like getting bit by a friend.

Don’t think like that, Mikka, I remind myself angrily.

But before the thought can form into any kind of real command, Connor starts drinking. Silvery pleasure runs through my veins, clouding my head and putting a heavy, warm weight low in my belly. He’s gentle, holding me close, and doesn’t let his hands drift too far. Still, I can feel what this is doing to him, and I have the urge to tease him with my hips, to grind against the hardness of his cock. What’s wrong with me?

I restrain myself from moving too much, but I can’t keep from enjoying it. There’s some kind of magic that goes along with these voluntary feeds; something that makes them less horror and more foreplay. Arousal pulses deep inside me, and I forget about my own directive to keep still, allowing my fingers to drift into his hair.

Time passes at a slow, dreamy rate, and I can’t tell how long it all lasts before he finally withdraws his teeth from my skin. After sliding out, he licks my wounds closed but doesn’t pull away. Not much, anyway. He’s still holding me close, his forehead almost touching mine and his eyes burning.

There’s a bit of my blood on his lip. Without thinking, I run my thumb over it. He catches the tip of my thumb in his mouth, kisses it, and releases it back to me with a slow turn of his head. My clit throbs, my body practically straining toward his as he cages me in against the wall. I want him to do that again. I want him to do a hell of a lot more than that.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I tilt my head up even more, closing the last small bit of space between us as I press my lips to his.

He responds instantly, holding