Lowering her hands to his arms, she began to push, enough that he couldn't resist it. When he tried to maintain a hold on her, a simple additional exertion was all she needed to slam him back down on his knees before her, his grip dropping clumsily but quite pleasantly to the outside of her thighs. He tried to pull back but she merely tightened her hold on his shoulders. Staring at him unsmiling, she waited for him to understand.
A first lesson.
Jacob's eyes narrowed, betraying temper and not a small amount of frustrated lust, an energy she absorbed with pleasure, savoring it almost as much as she would blood.
"You haven't displeased me, Jacob," she said. "I admit I'm intrigued. But you won't come home with me tonight. You need to think some more. At the moment you're standing in the surf. If you submit to me, you'll be taken deep into the ocean and never touch solid ground again."
"I came prepared to go with you, my lady." He spoke low, obviously struggling for the earlier tones of smooth courtesy. "With respect, I think it's you who needs time to think. Not I."
Arrogant, even if he was also right. She didn't know enough about him, and unfortunately now was not going to be the moment for her to learn more. Time was short. Regardless, she lifted a disdainful brow. "So if it was my will to take you home tonight and make you serve me with your mouth while another man fucked you from behind, that would be fine?" At his startled reaction, she gave a sharp nod. "I will take you far past what you think your limits are, to the level I find acceptable. After that, I might go even further. See how you handle pain, how loyal you would be to me under torture."
She knew how to do such things, but the thought made her a little sick, especially when her body was still shuddering from that kiss and the orgasm that had surged up like a violent seizure at his barest touch.
"I'm committed to your service, my lady. Whatever it might be."
But she heard the rage against it in his voice. "I think you're rash and foolish," she said in sudden anger. "Driven by your cock and your male ego. You're romanticizing the situation, blinding yourself."
The world was becoming a wavering rainbow. Nothing was as it seemed. She needed to go. Was it time for her driver to return? She couldn't remember when she'd said for him to come. She used her dwindling reserves of strength to send out an urgent compulsion to him, a mental shove that would have him turning the key in the ignition and heading this way before he even thought about the fact he was earlier than she'd suggested.
She'd known the danger of going out like this. It was too much… But she'd wanted a manicure, damn it. One pleasure. But there were no easy pleasures anymore.
"My lady?"
By his alarmed expression she knew her irises had gone blood red, her pale face even paler. Her fangs had elongated and now pricked her lips, lancing the skin and drawing blood. Salty blood that tasted metallic on her tongue.
It was too late. The chair became green, then purple. The fire was now olive drab, with blue flickering lights. She had to trust Thomas's choice and see how Jacob performed under fire. Hopefully not literally.
"Vial… in my bag. I need it."
After a quick look at her face, he retrieved it from the side table, searched and found the medicine. The room spun. When it righted itself, he was holding her, easing her back into the chair. "My lady, what's the matter?"
"That's not your concern." His skin was so hot, so alive. She felt the richness of his blood as if she was bathing in it, but the snakes of pain were there too, coiling in her lower stomach.
"I need blood. Fresh."
"Direct from the source, or mixed with this?" He gestured with the glass tube.
"Mixed." Though the idea of sinking her fangs into his throat was enough to make her arch off the chair with a cry of yearning, pain tearing at her.
Snatching up a pair of razor clippers, he sliced a line across his forearm with the blade. The arterial blood was quick and red. She wondered how he knew a finger prick wasn't sufficient.
Picking up the vial, he removed the cork and brought the tube against his skin so the blood flowed into it without further waste. It turned black upon contact with the potion. He capped the tube and shook it to accomplish the mix, caught up the towel and swiped it across the outside to keep the blood spilled there from dripping on her clothes.
"Hand it to me. Please." Propping her head on the back of the chair, she attempted to rest her hands on the arms in a position of dignity, though she wanted to curl in a ball around the pain.
He brought it to her lips instead, cradling her face with his hand. Those vivid eyes and appealing lips were close. She wondered if he knew his eyes turned different shades depending on his moods. Sapphires, a summer sky, the Mediterranean right before sunset…
She drank the bitter stuff but reveled in the taste of him, wishing she hadn't had to spoil her first sampling with this. The way he touched her face, with his palm so close to her fangs… He didn't fear her in the way she hated. Despite her mockery, she didn't sense that obsessive unrealistic fascination with her kind she found contemptuous. She could teach him to fear her in ways that would bring her pleasure, though. Ways that would bring them both pleasure.
Thomas. This is insanity. Who is this human, that he makes me feel this way? Does he understand it? Is that what he hides from me, or is he as confused as I am?
The colors were steadying, reforming. Objects reflected a less surreal perspective. She needed to get to the car, but the potion left her with a hazardous temporary lassitude. She could simply abide here, let Thomas watch over her… No, not Thomas. This was Jacob. She blinked. No, she couldn't stay. She'd been here too long, was too exposed.
Jacob had no idea what the hell was happening. This wasn't the effect of hunger. He was certain of that. This was illness. The woman whose power had nearly blasted him into the next room several times during their brief interaction was now almost ghostlike in her fragility. After she'd consumed the medicine, her fangs had slowly retracted, her gaze returning to that midnight darkness and jade that watched him as if she wore the soul of the night itself. The part that beckoned to a man even as it froze his bowels in fear.
"Trust. Thomas said trust." There was a feverish quality to her eyes.
"Trust must be earned, my lady. If you allow me, I'll start earning it."