White Blood Seduction by Tia Archer

Author:Tia Archer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bwwm sex, interracial erotica bwwm, interracial bwwm erotic stories, bwwm, vampires, vampire romance, vampire erotica
Publisher: Tia Archer
Published: 2014-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter6

If I’d thought about Ben a lot the week before, this week was nothing but him. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his hands on me. The image of his naked body was one I couldn’t get out of my head, and I fell asleep every night wishing he was there to make love to me and hold me in his arms. It was a ridiculous dream, I know, but no matter how wrong I knew it was, I couldn’t deny that I’d never felt this way about anyone before.

Ben Gold had a power over me and I was quite sure it had nothing to do with whatever vampire abilities he might have had before his whiteblood treatments. I was falling for him, and I knew it, but I couldn’t allow that to happen. Whatever I felt for him was nothing compared to what might happen if he got carried away and tried to bite me, or worse, what would happen if I fell in love with him while he was stuck in this terrible place.

How would that even work? Frenzied lovemaking sessions in my office once a week while I grew older and he stayed the same age? Eventually I’d move on to another position or another facility, and he’d he’d still be there, spending every day in a glass cage with no contact with the outside world. It was ridiculous to even think about starting a relationship with him.

Friday rolled around and I administered the whiteblood injections to one inmate after another. I felt like I was trapped underwater, everyone’s voices muffled and far away, unable to penetrate the haze of uncertainty I’d build up around myself. My every waking moment was consumed with thoughts of him until finally I was watching George leave after his usual quick and polite visit, knowing that the last inmate scheduled for the day was Ben Gold.

Ben walked into the room silently, skipping his usual greeting, and sat on the injection chair, watching the door as though waiting for it to click shut. When it had, he turned back to me and stayed silent for another few seconds, giving us time, I think, for the guard to move away from the door.

“I’m sorry for what happened last week,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry too.” I had pulled the tray with my swabs and needle up to the chair, but still stood there with my hands clasped in front of me. Every fiber of my being sang for me to jump on him and rip his clothes off, but I held back like I knew I had to. “Whatever that was—those feelings—they can’t be something either of us can indulge in. I should have known better and acted more professionally. It can’t happen again.”

“I understand,” he said with a smile that threatened to make my legs threaten to give out from under me. “I wish it could be different, but I realize that’s not how things are here.”

“I wish it could be different too,” I said softly, almost whispering.

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