Rising up to nuzzle her neck, he laved the puncture wounds with his tongue and waited till he saw the healing begin before he righted her dress on her shoulder and lifted up onto his knees. Still panting, she stared up at him, pupils dilated and kiss-swollen mouth parted.
"Is it-is it always like that?" she asked on a bare whisper.
"Never," he declared. For it was true. He'd tupped many a fine woman over the centuries while drinking from her veins, and never had one of them rocked him from his foundation like this. He and Sienna hadn't even coupled, and yet her blood, now mingled with his, raced like molten lava through his body. Like the gods' ambrosia, it sparked from within, burning with potency unparalleled to other bleeders. Was it his infatuation with this woman that colored his senses, washing him with desire and electric power? Or was it the woman herself who lit him on fire?
He was happy to have given her pleasure, but he was still in torturous pain. Especially as she lay there, sated, with her hair tousled and her bosom rising and falling so delectably. He leaped to his feet, then jumped from the loft to the barn floor, landing with a thud. The cow mooed in protest.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"Not far, sweetheart."
She peeked her head over the ledge of the loft, squinting into the dark to find him. "But what is wrong?"
He chuckled at his sad state. Everything was wrong. And right.
"Do not fret, my lady," he said before opening the barn door. "I believe I saw a pond down the hill. If it's cold enough, it may do the trick."
Before he sped away, he heard her say in a small voice, "Oh." He doubted she seriously understood how much pain she had put him in. For even now, he longed to leap back onto the loft and drive his cock deep inside her to feel the glorious satisfaction of taking her in truth. Of making her-
"Mine," he whispered to the night sky, head tilted back, eyes closed.
With a heavy sigh and a shake of his addled head, he sprinted across the field and down the hill in vampire speed, needing the cold wind cutting across his face, needing to feel anything but the budding emotion tightening around his heart.
Chapter Seven
The gray light of dawn streamed through the loft window as Sienna blinked her eyes awake. A glass of milk sat next to a tin plate with a crust of bread, spiced pear preserves, and a slice of cheese on the side. The cinnamon filled her nostrils. Her stomach grumbled. Sitting up, she pulled the plate into her lap and devoured the unexpected breakfast. No sign of Nikolai.
After eating every crumb and drinking the milk down, she eased off the mattress and peered out the window. Across the barnyard, Nikolai stood with Harrison, talking of something, both of their expressions rather grave.
Sienna feathered her fingers over her neck where Nikolai had bitten her, the skin as smooth as ever. No mark of any kind. Well, that wasn't altogether true. He had marked her for certain.
Heat flushed her cheeks as she remembered her behavior. His elixir had been more than an erotic serum to open her inhibitions. It had demanded she obey her deepest longing when it came to Nikolai. And that was to lay herself bare, to accept whatever pleasure he might give her, to welcome him inside of her body if he chose.
But he did not. He had remained a gentleman as far as he could, it seemed. The memory of his mouth on her breast gave her gooseflesh in the cool morning air. She turned away from the window and started dressing. She wished she had a place to bathe but made do with a quick splash of canteen water on her face, then plaited her hair in a long, neat braid, tying it off with a short green ribbon.
All the while, she wondered what her grandmother would think of her predicament. She'd chuckle and say something like, Well, girl, you've gotten yourself in deep now, have you not?
"Aye," Sienna whispered as she hooked on her favorite cloak, keeping it inside out for safety. "That I have, Grandmother."
Sienna had never hated vampires as Arabelle had. She hadn't a tragic past like Arabelle, caused by the suffering of their kind. As a matter of fact, her only experience had been the stories of her grandmother's love affair with a charming and devoted Royal Legionnaire. One her grandmother gave up, because she refused to become his bleeder and she refused to become one of the cursed race as she called them.
And here Sienna was, offering herself freely to Lieutenant Nikolai. She wished she could tell herself that she regretted the experience. But the opposite was true. She wanted more of him.
No. She wanted all of him. And that was what frightened her the most. She wanted to see if the pleasures she experienced in her dreams were true. For if last night's brief but world-tilting experience was any indication, Nikolai would be the greatest of lovers.