Enslaved by Blood

Nolan tilted his head a bit until he’d buried his nose in the crook of Donavan’s neck. “You smell really good.”

All the air seemed to leave the room as Donavan stilled. Then he felt it—the gentle scrapping of Nolan’s fangs against the tender flesh of his throat. All of Donavan’s life, he’d been taught that a warlock should never lower himself by allowing a vampire to feed from him. It was considered the lowest acts a magic could commit. A dishonor. But at that moment, it was all he could do not to cup the back of Nolan’s head and urge him on.

“Uh…when was the last time he fed?” Lachlan stammered.

Donavan repeated the question into Nolan’s ear.

“I don’t know exactly how long. After the first week, all the days seemed to blend into each other. It’s been a long time though. When they did feed me, it was just barely enough to keep me alive,” Nolan replied before his tongue darted out to lick Donavan.

He jumped as the velvet touch sent lances of desire shooting through his body. Goddess, it would be so easy to allow this. To let himself give over to the sensation of Nolan’s fangs piercing his skin. A vampire had never bitten Donavan before, but he had heard that it could be a very pleasurable experience.

With a reluctant grunt, Donavan pulled back. Now wasn’t the time or place for him to be satisfying his primal needs. Maybe, once Nolan healed and was actually able to stand without aid, they could take things further. Instead, Donavan offered up his wrist. Holding it just inches from Nolan’s mouth, he ordered, “Here, you can feed from me.”

Lachlan let out a slight gasp of shock, but didn’t voice an argument. No doubt because his calling as a healer overruled the warlock revulsion to carrying a vampire bite.

Nolan’s fangs had grown so large they protruded over his bottom lip. In the past, Donavan had always looked at that as a sign of aggression from a vampire. Now, it turned him on like nothing ever had. Nolan’s tongue darted out to caress the sensitive flesh of Donavan’s inner wrist, but he made no move to bite. “What are you waiting for?” Donavan demanded.

“It’s been so long that I’m afraid I’ll lose control and take too much.” Nolan made another pass with his tongue, eliciting a shiver from Donavan.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stop you if you get carried away. Plus, Lachlan is here.” Just as he felt sure Nolan would take him up on the offer, the vampire gazed up with his sightless eyes.

“Why are you helping me?”

If that isn’t the question of the day? It would have been so much easier had he just left Nolan with the revenants. Now, not only was he stuck with a handicapped liability, but so were Ian and Lachlan. This was the last place where they needed any kind of burden, too.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Donavan replied simply as he stared at that hated tattoo defiling his upraised wrist. If Nolan could see the markings there, he would have scoffed at Donavan’s claim since his former coven was known for everything but being helpful or compassionate.