Page 34 of Fangbanger

That does it. “Ready yourself, vampire. I’m coming in.”

I clamber awkwardly into the tub. I have a big bathroom and a luxurious soaking tub, but Marcus is well over six feet tall and more than two hundred pounds. I’m forced to sink awkwardly to my knees, hovering over his lap. I shudder at the feel of his blood, cooler than a human’s, pooling around my calves.

His hands come to my hips. His lids flutter.

“Slayer.” That faint smile again. “You cannot heal me.”

“I can.”

“I will hurt you. I’ve lost too much blood. I’ll go into a frenzy.”

“Fine.” A frenzy sounds fine to me, as long as he heals.

His smile reaches his eyes but still looks tired. Panic wings upward through my chest. He squeezes my hips. “You risk too much.”

“I don’t care.” My voice shakes. “Open your mouth.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “So stubborn.”

I growl at him. Stupid vampire. “So like a man.” I lean and scrabble with my fingers against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. “Unwilling to ask for help. Until you actually die in my bathtub. Have I mentioned I hate vampires?”

He chuckles, then winces. “It never came up.”

My fingers finally close around the hilt of my knife. “You will live.” I slash over my palm, ignoring the stinging pain. “If it’s the last thing I do.” I make a fist over his face. A drop of crimson splashes against his nose, then another on his full mouth. “Drink, damn you.”

My blood paints his lips. The shallow slice on my hand is already healing, and still he gazes at me, something warm and affectionate lingering in his eyes.

Angrily, I turn the knife against my wrist. He catches my hand. “Your wrist won’t be enough.”

I catch sight of the burns at his elbows, right over the scars he tries to hide from me, the ones he’s clearly ashamed of. My stomach rolls.

I toss the knife down and scrape my hair back, off my neck. “Then here.”

His pupils expand. His hands knead my hips. I lean forward. He presses his head back, like he’s scared.

“Leah.”

“Take it.”

“No.”

Damn stubborn vampire.

I plant my hands on his chest and scoot up his body until my neck is tilted mere inches from his mouth. “Take it, damn you. Or I will open the vein myself.”

There’s a rough sound in his chest, before he strikes.

20

LEAH

The pain is brief and white-hot before it blooms into pleasure so quickly that my head spins. My body spasms. My slayer instincts scream at me to run, to stab, to tear myself away on his fangs.

Shit.

I feel like I’m melting.

“Leah?” Marcus’s voice is a growl against my neck. He’s shaking with the effort of restraining himself. I just got him to agree to this. I have to get control of my body.