Fatal Cravings: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series by Daniella Starre (a book to read txt) 📗

bloodplay,” he murmured, his voice like honey, sweet, but also like chestnuts, dark. “It can be very… erotic. Especially for vampires and their…” His gaze lifted to capture mine. “Human lovers.”

Oh, me. Oh, my. I didn’t think I could handle this.

“Can I?” he asked.

My body quivered. I could hardly think with him looking at me like that.

“Can you what?” I whispered. Maybe I imagined the question. I was so breathless I couldn’t hear it.

“Can I lick your blood? Lick. Not suck.”

As if there’s a difference. I knew what he was doing. He was seducing me, hoping I would allow him to do what he wanted even though he had already heard no from me.

I should refuse him again.

But the beginning of a dark plan was coming to mind.

Viktor was toying with him.

I needed leverage.

Maxwell and I had to bring him down by any means necessary.

So I nodded.

The nip from the knife was barely anything, a flash of pain that lasted but a second, and then I felt Maxwell’s tongue lick up my leg, reaching the wound, the tiny rivet of blood. He lapped it up, and then he groaned, and I knew he wanted more.

“Whatever… Whatever you need,” I told him, confused and bewildered at how much his tongue licking my life essence was turning me on, but he indulged me even as he indulged himself, and he cut again, slightly, licking my blood as his fingers found my clit, and when he pinched slightly, I moaned. He licked more and fingered me, and I gave over to the darkness, to the pleasures, and I came hard.

Maxwell pulled away from me, and I took over, drunk on the power of sex, and I pushed him down onto the bed. He allowed me to do as I wished, and right now, I wanted him to feel pleasure from my mouth. I kissed and licked my way down his chest, more than a little annoyed when I realized he was still wearing pants. I went to undo them when I realized Maxwell was just lying there.

Something was wrong.

I drew back, frightened, worried.

“M-Maxwell?” I stammered.

He tried to sit up and then managed it. His face was gray. Normally, his skin wasn’t ashen at all, but now it was.

Fear had my heart pounding as if ready to burst.

But then, alongside that fear, came another powerful emotion.

The drive for revenge.

“Are you so unwilling to believe now?” I asked, my tone almost cold.

Maxwell exhaled. “I need a moment,” he murmured, and he left the room. Not five seconds later, he returned, much more composed. He wiped his mouth, but I spied the blood on his hand. The vampire—my vampire husband—followed my gaze, and he licked the blood.

“Better?” I asked.

He nodded.

Still a man of few words. I wanted to know everything about his past, his future, what he had gained over the long years of his life, what he wished to acquire yet, but so far, we had not discussed any of that.

I was his wife, but I wasn’t.

“We need a plan,” I announced. “We need to bring down Viktor.”

“We do, and I know how.” Maxwell took my hand in his. I should feel vulnerable, being naked in front of him like this, but I didn’t. Somehow, I felt emboldened by it all.

I tilted my head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

But he said nothing.

So I said what he couldn’t.

“I have to be the bait,” I said. “It’s the only way. I have to be captured so Viktor can be taken down once and for all.”

“But, Annabel…”

I stared at him. Since we had married, he had only ever called me sweet terms of endearment in Italian. Before we had wed, he only ever said Annabel Gates, not just my first name.

Maybe I was making something out of nothing, but what could that suggest?

It didn’t matter. My life and the lives of those I loved were threatened, and it was all my fault.

“Maxwell, we don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t want any harm to come to you,” he growled.

His eyes. They were almost entirely golden now, the black edged away, and it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Yes, beautiful and not handsome. A man could be both, or at least Maxwell could.

I inhaled deeply. “Then help me. Gather your goons. Make sure my parents and Pierre are protected.”

“I’m sorry,” Maxwell growled, “but I care about you, not—”

“If you truly care about me, then you care about them.” I put my hand over his. He flipped his so our fingers could interlace. It felt so natural, so right to hold his hand.

If only he would hold me his heart. He already had mine without his asking for it.

The bond between us had never been stronger than it had in this very moment, and I leaned forward to press my lips to his.

And he gripped the back of my head, deepening what I’d intended to be a sweet, tender kiss, and I swore he stripped me of my very soul.

Breathless, I drew back, staring into his golden eyes, and that was when the truth hit me.

I didn’t know why or what I had done to deserve it, but whether or not he could admit it or say the words aloud, but Maxwell loved me.

“I can’t be armed,” I mused, trying to focus on the plan and not the sight of his bare chest. “Or if I am, they’ll just strip me of it.”

He released a low growl from the back of his throat. Probably because I said “strip.” I couldn’t help a slight grin.

“One moment.”

Maxwell departed, and I scrambled to put on clothes. Jeans and a shirt. Maxwell’s maid had only brought me dresses, but I had asked her to get me some regular attire too. I would need to run potentially, and I would much rather be in pants for that.

When Maxwell returned, I was just finishing tying my sneakers. Yes, the maid had brought them for me too.

I straightened, and Maxwell shook his