Danse Macabre   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

I meant to simply lay my lips against his neck. But when I was close enough to smell his skin, all my good intentions vanished. He smelled so warm, so incredibly warm. I wanted to put my mouth against that warmth, but not to kiss. I put my face so close to the warm, smooth line of his neck that a hard thought would have made my lips touch his skin. But I kept just above his neck, and breathed in the scent of him. Warm, a faint hint of some powdery sweet cologne, barely there, soap, and underneath just the scent of his body. Human, and deeper still, where my breath blew back hot from his skin, the musky hint of cat. Cleaner, less sharp than leopard. But definitely cat, not wolf, not dog. I breathed in the scent of lion as it rose from his skin, as if my breath called it forth.

My arms slid down his back, across his shoulders, folding my body around his. He'd behaved himself until then, hands at his sides, but now he reached for me, wrapped me in the strength of his arms, the force of his fingers, kneading at my body through my clothes.

I heard him whisper, «Oh, God.»

I laid the gentlest of kisses against that hot, smooth skin, a feather's touch of a kiss, and it wasn't enough. I could smell what I wanted just below the surface. I could smell his blood like something sweet and metallic. I licked along his neck, licked over the warm, jumping life of his pulse. He shuddered in my arms.

I heard a voice. «Anita, Anita, don't do this.» I didn't know who it was, and didn't understand what they were talking about. I needed to taste his pulse, feel it quiver between my teeth until it burst hot and scalding in my mouth.

A wrist appeared near my face. I smelled leopard. Micah called me back from that quivering edge. «Anita, what are you doing?»

I didn't unwind from Haven's body. I raised my face only enough to see Micah. «Tasting him,» and my voice sounded hoarse and not mine.

«Let him go, Anita.»

I shook my head, and felt Haven's fingers hard and firm, as if he had claws to sink into my body, and I wanted him to do it.

Graham came next, putting his wrist between me and that pulsing candy. But the musk of wolf was not what I wanted.

Nathaniel was next, putting the sweetness of his wrist between me and Haven's neck. He still smelled of vanilla, but that wasn't the scent I was after tonight. I shook my head. «No.»

«Something's wrong, Anita, you need to stop.»

I shook my head again, sending my hair flying over the kneeling man's face. He made a sound low in his throat from the sensation of it.