BodySnatchers Read Free Page B

and
the occasional woman to warm his bed. Melisande provided sustenance when
available donors were limited. What more could he want?
    The woman beside him lay as still as death, her peaches-and-cream
skin cool to his touch. He skimmed his fingers over a breast and up to the base
of her throat where her pulse beat the strongest. With a deep breath, he leaned
into her, his lips pulling back as his teeth extended.
    How easy it would be to sink into her jugular and suck the
life-giving blood from her body. To give back in return and make her immortal
to stand beside him for eternity.
    He skimmed the long incisors across her neck, pressing
lightly without breaking the skin.
    A surge of desire rolled over him like waves crashing
against the shore. Struggling against instinct, he proceeded down the base of
her throat and across her collarbone to the injured shoulder. He sniffed at the
blood still oozing from the wound, like a thick, rich wine to be sipped.
    He tasted the nectar, savoring the flavor of her, his body
responding to her naked breasts beneath his chin, within easy reach of his
mouth. Each pearly mound jutting upward, begging him to take them into his
mouth.
    She stirred beneath him, her back arching upward, a breast
pressing against his chin.
    Turning his face just a little, he captured the nipple
between his teeth, letting go immediately. He realized his mistake at once. If
he didn’t get back to the task at hand, he’d be lost in his own uncontrollable
lust.
    He skimmed his tongue over the ragged edges of the exit
wound until the shattered flesh grew together, the wound fading with each
caress. Once the wound in front had disappeared, he turned her onto her
stomach, putting those luscious breasts beneath her and out of reach of his
roving lips and baser instincts. Then, with long, sure strokes, he laved the
wound on her back, the scar shrinking until it disappeared.
    She stirred in his grasp, groaning and pushing against the
bed.
    The taste of her blood an aphrodisiac to his senses, Yuri
closed his eyes as the red-haired goddess rolled to her back.
    He inhaled and let out a long breath, schooling himself to a
calm he didn’t feel. Yet he fought a losing battle against his body. He had to
complete the work and get her out of his bed before he did something they would
both regret. He opened his eyes and stared only at fading traces of the wound,
refusing to note the peachy tips of her breasts now pebbled into tight beads.
    With one final stroke, the mark completely disappeared and
he leaned back to inspect his work. The injury wouldn’t leave a scar to mar the
perfection of her skin.
    If he were a gentleman, he’d get off the bed and walk away.
He even made a move to do just that.
    She shifted beneath him, her hands rising up his torso to
clasp around his neck, pulling him closer until his chest rested against her
full, ripe breasts.
    Yuri froze, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders,
his mouth hovering over hers.
    Her breath blew softly against his lips, the tangy scent of
mint filling his senses.
    Move away , he willed his body. But the body wasn’t
going anywhere. Nestled against the soft curves, he couldn’t tear himself away.
    Her leg curved around the back of his calf, and she pressed
her crotch to his thigh. “Love me,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her body
caught in a lusty dream. She probably didn’t know who she was or what she was
doing, only that she needed to be loved.
    Yuri wondered who she was dreaming of. Did she have a
boyfriend or a husband lurking in her thoughts and somewhere in Houston? With a
quick glance down at her hand, he heaved a sigh. No ring. Good. Then who was
she thinking of in her lust-filled trance?
    He knew the intensity of lust, having experienced it when he
was turned so long ago by the venomous vampire he thought he cared for. Had he
known the consequences of making love to her and letting his passion take over,
he might have chosen differently. But Katarina