Highland Thirst by Lynsay Sands, Hannah Howell Page A

sharp teeth over the same spot.
When she wondered if he was in need of more blood, Brona was surprised that the
thought of letting him take hers again did not cause her even a twinge of
unease. In fact it made her shiver inside with a sudden spear of wanton heat.
    “Heming?”
She was not really surprised to hear that deep husky tone in her voice, for the
way he was nibbling on her neck was making her feel very warm and needy. “Is
the taking of someone’s blood supposed to make one feel, weel, needy?”
    Heming
pulled away from her neck a little so that she could not see him grin. Feeding
could be a very sensuous experience, but he had rarely shared more than blood
with the women he had fed from in the past. When there was no true feeling for
the person one fed from, it was easy to turn away after one was finished. But
if one cared for the person that sensual feeling swiftly flared into hot need.
The fact that it had in Brona pleased him a great deal. The fact that she asked
such a question with no more than simple curiosity, with no hint of unease or
disgust, pleased him even more.
    Not
all Halflings felt the urge to give their mate a marking, that bite that left a
mark all other MacNachtons could clearly read, but he had felt it the moment he
had held her in his arms and known that they would soon be making love. Brona’s
apparent ease with the fact that he drank blood meant that he might actually
get to give her one and satisfy the craving he had felt since that night at the
inn. He knew she would not hesitate to let him feed from her and that was half
the battle.
    “It
can be a very sensuous thing but it doesnae have to leave one feeling needy ,”
he said. “To me it has always been a matter of necessity.”
    “Ye
said ye dinnae have to drink blood unless ye are ill or hurt or the like.”
    “True,
but it keeps me strong if I have some every fortnight or so.”
    “Oh.”
The idea of him drinking the blood of some other woman, of holding her close
and rubbing her back, made Brona clench her teeth against a wave of jealousy.
    This
time Heming did not even try to hide his grin as he nibbled on her ear,
enjoying the little shivers that went through her. “I too felt needy that time ye let me taste the essence of ye, Brona Kerr. E’en though I was near
death, I felt verra needy indeed.”
    Brona
could hear the hint of laughter in his voice but did not feel that he was
making fun of her. She suspected she had revealed her discomfort with the
thought of him doing that with some other woman and his male pride was rearing
up. When he turned her around and pulled her into his arms, she pressed her
cheek against his chest and fought to control the urge to blush. If she acted
embarrassed or annoyed, it would probably only feed his arrogance.
    Heming
kissed the top of her head. “I have ne’er tasted anything as sweet, my Brona.”
    She
thought that she must be rather pathetic since she found that a heady
compliment, but then shook aside that thought and asked the question she had
been planning to ask. “Do ye need some now?”
    “Ah,
Brona love, I would like nothing more than to taste ye whilst I am hale and
strong, to feel your life’s blood warming my insides and making me strong, but
I fear I best nay do that right now.”
    She
smiled faintly against his chest. “Because it will make ye feel needy ?”
    “Aye,
ye wretch. Verra needy.”
    “And
ye might toss me to the ground and have your wicked way with me?”
    “In
a heartbeat.” He tilted her face up to his and kissed her, making no effort to
hide the desire for her that was always there.
    Breathless
from his kiss, Brona stared at him when he finally ended it. He was looking at
her in a way that made her want to toss him on the ground, but she fought to
rein in the need he stirred within her. With Colin, Peter, and Fergus but a few
yards away, it was not a good time to be rolling about in the heather. For all
she was worried about being seen as no more than