Bound by Night(68)

As much as he loathed seeing Nicole in agony, he loved how fierce she was when she was trying to make things right.
“You know how you can help?” He angled himself so the cameras wouldn’t miss what was coming next.
“You can die.”
“Excuse me?”
Savagely, he wrapped his fist in her hair and wrenched her head so his mouth rested against her ear. “I’ll try to turn you,” he murmured, “but I’m going to make it look brutal. Your brother thinks I’m an animal, so I’ll give him what he expects. Then you need to play drained.”
“He’ll come for me to keep you from killing me,” she whispered.
“Exactly.” He snarled, hoping to hell Chuck was watching, because he didn’t like doing this. If he was going to take Nicole’s blood, he wanted it to be intimate, pleasurable. Maybe it was foolish, but he suddenly wanted to erase the memory of the vicious attack on her as a child, to show her that a vampire’s bite didn’t have to be an instrument of pain. He might not be able to make it an especially enjoyable experience, but he could at least make sure she didn’t suffer more than she already had. “It won’t hurt, Nicole. I promise.
But I need you to struggle and scream like it does.”
“No.” She shoved against him. Unprepared for her sudden movement, he released her, and she scrambled backward. “No!” she shouted. “I don’t care about
Neriya enough to do this.” She looked into a camera.
“Chuck, let me out. Please!”
Good girl. Riker almost smiled. She should have been an actress. In a flash, he lunged at her, catching her around the shoulders even as he bit into his wrist and released a stream of blood. She struggled as he jammed his arm against her mouth. She shook her
 head, fought hard enough to score him with her nails.
This killed him. Under all that determination, he scented her anxiety as blood filled her mouth and dripped down her chin. She wasn’t swallowing; self preservation and instinct had likely kicked in, overriding her brain.
Come on, sunshine, you can do this. He loosened his grip a little, hoping to ease the feeling of being trapped, and her struggles lessened.
She swallowed, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Relief and sorrow knotted in his chest. He’d never turned a human, never even thought about it, let alone done it against the victim’s will. Oh, Nicole was willing, but it wasn’t because she wanted it. She was being forced by her brother, and Riker was the weapon of choice, the gun held by the crazy person.
Pulling back his wrist, he licked the wound to seal it, tasting Nicole on his skin. Gods, what he wouldn’t have given to make this a special, tender moment. Cursing silently, he touched the tip of his tongue to the backs of his fangs, releasing the liquid agent that both turned pain to pleasure and injected an almost instant high.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her neck.
Her entire body trembled as he sank his teeth into her tender throat. She stiffened, gasping at the invasion of his fangs into her body, but within the span of a heartbeat, pleasure made her groan.
Fight me, dammit. He cleared his throat softly, a prod that worked, because suddenly, she screamed and kicked, and as her blood flowed over his tongue, he began to drown in self-loathing.
Because as much as he hated this situation they were in, he found himself loving every moment of having Nicole in his arms and in his body.
 
 
• • • • • •

 
 
Just a week ago, no one could ever have convinced Nicole that she would enjoy the feel of a vampire’s fangs buried in her throat. Now she had to keep reminding herself to struggle against Riker, when all she wanted to do was melt into the warmth of his touch, and even his bite.
The taste of his blood still lingered on her tongue, but her stomach hadn’t rebelled. In fact, she felt a little drugged, even relaxed. Her initial struggles hadn’t been feigned; her instinctive panic had been far too real. But now . . . now she had to make a conscious effort to fight him.
After what seemed like seconds, he withdrew his fangs, but he kept his mouth over the punctures, licking, making the sucking motions for her brother’s benefit. Half brother. And now she couldn’t consider him even that. If she turned into a vampire, she was going to kill him. If she died, she was going to haunt him.
“Weaken your struggles gradually,” Riker murmured against her skin. “In about sixty seconds, stop struggling and play passed-out.”
She obeyed, slapping him weakly instead of punching. She kicked but in less frequent intervals, until she finally stopped . . . but threw in a few twitches for fun.