The First Taste.
1124 Words
Scarlett felt the moment his control slipped from his hands.
He wasn’t violent or brutal. The wall he’d put up for her sake came undone like a band finally pulled too hard.
Tom’s lips brushed her neck again, softer this time, almost hesitant. His touch sent a strange shiver down her spine. His breath was cool against her skin, and the faint scrape of his fangs made her pulse jump wildly beneath them.
She had expected pain.
Savage hunger.
Something monstrous.
Instead… he paused.
His hands caressed her from her neck down to her where they wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against his body.
“Scarlett,” he sweetly called out her name.
The sound of it in his deep voice sent a strange warmth through her chest.
“Yes?” she whispered.
His fingers dug slightly deeper into her sides.
“You may stop me, if I become too much for you.”
Scarlett blinked.
“Yes.”
Tom’s breath brushed her ear.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Scarlett.”
Scarlett swallowed.
Her heart was beating so fast now it almost hurt.
“It’s only a little,” she reminded him softly.
He inclined his head slightly.
“Yes. Only a little.”
Then his fangs pierced her skin.
Scarlett gasped.
The pain was sharp, but brief.
What followed after wasn’t like the pain at all.
Warmth spread through her neck where he drank. A strange pulling sensation followed, far from the unpleasant feeling of something sharp piercing flesh. It felt absolutely delicious, like biting into a sweet, juicy fruit.
His hand tightened instinctively around her waist, pulling her even closer as the taste of her blood flooded his senses.
Tom’s stiff body slowly relaxed as her scent enveloped him. He felt truly alive for the first time in a long time.
Her flavor was intoxicating, nothing like the faint, stale memories of blood lingering in his mind.
Scarlett’s blood was light in liquid form.
It was beyond sweet, she was truly, utterly delicious.
He was overcome with a feeling he couldn’t name, it was a dark sensation.
His eyes closed as instinct took over.
Scarlett’s fingers grabbed the front of his shirt.
“Tom…”
Her voice came out softer than she’d expected.
One of his hands slide up her spine and buried itself in her hair, holding her firmly against him while he drank.
Just enough to satisfy the burning hunger clawing through his veins.
His touch was everything but aggressive. It was firm, warm, strong. The strange sensation of it spread through Scarlett’s body. She felt it deep in her core.
Unimaginable pleasure.
Her knees weakened slightly.
“Okay,” she whispered breathlessly.
This needs to end before she does.
“That’s… that’s enough…”
He immediately stopped.
His fangs withdrew.
He pulled back so quickly it was almost startling.
Scarlett swayed slightly.
Tom’s hand moved instantly to catch her before she could fall.
His red eyes searched her face.
“You are weak.”
Scarlett gave a small breathless laugh.
“You just drank my blood.”
“Yes.”
“That tends to do that.”
He frowned slightly as he studied her.
His thumb brushed the small mark on her neck where he had bitten her.
The wound was already closing.
His gaze darkened slightly.
“You allowed this.”
Scarlett met his eyes.
“I know. I’m not complaining, I’m just a little dizzy.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
Something inside him had shifted.
The hunger was gone now.
Replaced by something warmer.
Something far more dangerous.
Scarlett’s scent surrounded him.
Her warmth pressed lightly against his chest where he still held her upright.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
Scarlett noticed.
Her stomach flipped.
“You’re looking at me strangely,” she said.
He didn’t deny it.
“I am studying you.”
“That’s not comforting.”
His hand was still on her waist.
Scarlett became very aware of it.
Very aware of how easily he could lift her.
Move her.
Control the space between them.
Tom noticed the way her breathing had changed.
Her pulse fluttered beneath the small mark on her neck.
“You are afraid,” he said quietly.
Scarlett hesitated.
“I’m trying not to be.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“Why?”
Scarlett shrugged faintly.
“Because you’re strangely…gentle. I may feel frightened from time to time but I don’t feel unsafe.”
Tom considered that.
Then his fingers lifted again, brushing lightly against the place where he had bitten her.
Scarlett shivered.
“That tickles,” she murmured.
His expression shifted slightly.
Fascination.
“You react strongly to touch.”
Scarlett’s face flushed as she nodded.
“Well yes, I tend to not let people touch me.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Interesting.”
Scarlett laughed softly.
“You say that like you’re studying a strange animal.”
His gaze lowered again.
“You are strange.”
Scarlett snorted.
“I rescued a vampire and let him drink my blood. I agree.”
Tom’s grip on her waist tightened just slightly.
His voice lowered.
“Yes.”
“You are… very strange.”
The way he said it made Scarlett’s stomach flutter unexpectedly.
She cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said, gently pushing against his chest, “now that you’re not starving, maybe we should talk about what happens next.”
Tom didn’t move immediately.
He looked down at her for another long moment.
Then slowly, he stepped back.
The sudden loss of his warmth made the room feel colder.
Scarlett noticed.
And strangely…
So did he.
He looked around the small cottage again.
The narrow bed.
The fire.
The mortal woman who had saved him.
Something deep inside him had settled into this place.
A quiet, possessive certainty.
Scarlett belonged here.
And now…
So did he.
Tom’s gaze returned to her.
“I will stay,” he said.
Scarlett blinked.
“Stay?”
“Yes.”
She crossed her arms.
“That wasn’t a request.”
He shook his head slightly.
“No.”
Scarlett stared at him.
“You can’t just move into my house.”
His lips curved slightly.
The faintest hint of amusement.
“I already have.”
Scarlett opened her mouth to argue—
Then stopped.
Because technically…
He wasn’t wrong.
And somehow she had grown to like having him around. She couldn’t understand it. He was nothing to her and her to him, someone she picked off the road, inhuman, a mystery.
Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling in her chest that this stubborn, sexy vampire before her was meant to be here, in her home, with her.
- Writer
