3. (JO POV)

(JO POV)

Dane's grin was probably meant to ease the anxiety running through me, but only fueled my resolve to resist. "Like hell, I'm not going anywhere with you. You're going to have to drag me, 'cause I'm not moving," I shot back defiantly.

"Well, if that's how you want it," he quipped. Before I could even think of a comeback, I was hoisted into his arms, my fists and feet flailing in protest. But damn, he was strong, strolling through the halls, totally unfazed by my tantrum.

We ended up in his room, the door closing with a sinister click that set every nerve in my body on edge. I was alone with a vampire now, and there was zero I could do about it. 

The next thing I knew, I was unceremoniously dumped onto his bed. 

"Knock it off, or I'll make you," he warned.

Surprisingly, something in his tone chilled my fiery spirit, a peculiar calm washing over me despite my inner agitation. 

Okay, so I despised vampires, but this one... He hadn't been outright cruel, and here I was, utterly at his mercy in his domain. 

And fuck, he was undeniably attractive, which was messing with my head big time.

"Good, let's have a real conversation now," he said, easing himself beside me on the bed after removing his jacket and untucking his shirt. He had a new, youthful look to him as he sat beside me and kicked off his shoes, allowing them to fall to the floor beside the bed. More turned before he was 21 teenage guy and less mob boss vampire prince with access to the best tailors in the world. 

"I've got nothing to say to you," I snapped back, not ready to lower my guard just yet.

"That's regrettable because, quite frankly, you won't find anyone more understanding of that foul attitude and unattractive sass here," he retorted. Despite his calm demeanor, his observations stung.

"You'd be this pissed too, if you were being treated like property," I countered, the anger and helplessness spilling out of me. It was like a dam had broken, releasing all the pent-up frustration and fear. For the first time since I woke up in the hospital after the accident, I could feel tears forming in my eyes. 

To my surprise, he didn't react with irritation. Instead, he seemed to understand, the realization momentarily softening his features before he closed his eyes. 

Did he know what it felt like to be treated like property?

 It was disorienting to see him as anything other than the enemy.

"So, I'm what, your dinner now?" I asked bitterly, the realization souring my stomach. I hoped my blood tasted as bitter as my stomach felt thinking about it. 

"I was hoping," he admitted with a straightforwardness that threw me off.

"And if I say no to being your personal snack bar?" I challenged, still clinging to some semblance of defiance.

He shrugged. "I healed you and took a risk doing so. Thought you wouldn't mind..."

Damn him for making sense. "I've never...you know, let a vampire..." I trailed off, the admission making me feel exposed.

"So, a first-timer. Must be my lucky day," he quipped with a twinkle in his eyes that was impossible to miss.

"Yeah, that's right, I'm a blood-bag 'virgin.' Lucky you. Is that some kind of trophy for male vamps like male humans?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes, trying to deflect my growing unease.

He moved closer, his presence totally overwhelming my senses. "Not like that. It's just...intense for a human, certainly the first time. It's a good thing I knew that beforehand," he clarified. Was he worried about me? About my comfort here?

 It sure sounded like it. 

"Great, can't wait," I muttered sarcastically, though some of me was curious, despite my better judgment.

Plus, I had little choice anyway.

He sighed. "Look, I need to feed soon, or it'll get ugly. I'll get ugly. I'm old, Jo. Really old. This isn't a game to me. I don't want to hurt you because we pushed this too long," he said, seriousness straining his words, yet there was a warmth there. An odd concern for my well-being strangely coupled with his. 

This entire thing was just so... disorienting. 

"How...how does it work?" I asked, curiosity starting to overshadow my reluctance.

I wasn't ready for the closeness and undeniable intensity of his presence as Dane mapped the potential sites on my body from which he could draw. 

Each touch was a spark, igniting a flood of sensations I'd never felt before. His cool fingers sketched invisible lines across my skin, leaving trails of quivers that seemed to reverberate long after the contact ceased.

First, his fingers hovered at the base of my neck. The mere proximity of his touch to such a vulnerable spot sent a rush of adrenaline through me, mixed with an odd anticipation. "Here," he murmured, "is where it's most direct, most intense. Most...passionate. For both of us." 

The way he spoke about it, with reverence nearly, made it appear less like a violation and more like an ancient ritual, connecting us in a way I couldn't fully comprehend as just a mere human.

His hand shifted, sliding down to my wrist. His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse there, a steady beat under his cool touch. "And here, but it's slower, more drawn out. Allows for a slower... far more calming experience." 

Despite the giddy boyish anticipation I was starting to notice dancing in his eyes, his voice was a blend of caution and curiosity, testing my reactions carefully. 

"For us both?" I whispered, unsure where the question even came from.

 He smiled without taking his eyes off my wrist. "Yes, kitten. For us both." 

This touch was different and less intimidating than the neck, but it reminded me of the reality of what was to come and what I was agreeing to. I am sure he didn't miss the scar his finger was pressing over. I was well aware of the potential blood flow from that area. 

His next move truly tested the limitations of my willpower. As his hand ventured toward my thigh, I tensed, an instinctive reaction to the invasion of my personal space. 

His hand halted, hovering just above the fabric of my sweatpants, as he sensed my hesitation. "Shh, it's okay," he cooed, looking up at me. Encouraged by his oddly calm reassurances and those beautiful blue eyes, I reluctantly allowed him to continue. 

His fingers traced the path to my femoral artery with a reverence that left me breathless.

The moment his fingers brushed against the spot, a warmth spread through me, a tiny ember of trust glowing in the darkness of my distrust towards vampires. His touch was cautious and respectful, yet infused with a potency that seemed to drag me deeper into the sensations swirling between us. 

"And here," he murmured, "is forbidden at the academy because it creates an unparalleled kind of... connection. A certain intimacy that transcends all other human and vampire experience." His explanation held a certain yearning, a longing for something profound that transcended the physical act of feeding. I could hear it subtly in each word as he spoke. 

Maybe I was reading this wrong. After all, I was far from a vampire expert, but he seemed to be seeking far more than my blood here. 

Each option he laid out before me, with every touch, stirred a storm within. Fear, mingled with fascination, apprehension intertwined with an aching curiousness. The intimacy in his explanations, the deliberate way he navigated my inexperience and consent, left me at the edge of an abyss.

I was teetering between the desire to flee and the urge to leap.

"Does it hurt?" The question slipped out as I tried to make sense of what was happening to me.

What was happening to me?

Why would I ever even consider this?

 Was I considering this? 

"A momentary sting," he admitted, "followed by a rush of sensation as your body responds, my saliva mingling with your blood will create an experience that's...unique. It's an intensity that borders on euphoria." 

His explanation made my eyes and head roll back as a shiver shot through my body. Why in the hell did my body respond like that? 

"Don't do that," he said suddenly, making my eyes snap back to him.

Confused, I asked, "Do what?"

"When you tilt your head back like that... Mmmmm... I can see your pulse," he explained, his eyes swirling with frustration and something darker as they rapidly alternated from black to blue. "It's...challenging."

"So, it will hurt? Seriously, don't lie to me," I asked, needing to hear it one more time. 

"Just a second. Then it's all endorphins and a rush...An intense rush. My saliva will make you feel...alive. It's intense, but in a good way, I promise. Humans choose to do this daily. Millions of humans wouldn't do it if it were horrible, right?" He explained, his eyes locking with mine. It was a silent plea for trust and consent.

Consent he didn't ultimately need, so I wondered why we were in this dance.