In the back of his mind, he saw himself in Estes's office, on his knees on the floor, naked and chained to the desk while his uncle read late into the evening. Starving because he'd been allowed nothing to eat all day while he'd worked until he was bleeding and sore from it to make his uncle rich, Ash had stared at the bowl of dried sugared figs Estes had left in front of him. His stomach cramped from hunger, his mouth had watered for a single taste. For over an hour he'd stared at the food, biting his lips in desperate agony. Convinced Estes was so engrossed in his reading that he wouldn't see him, Ash had reached for one.
He could still feel the sting of that vicious slap. See the anger in Estes's eyes as he snatched at his hair and held Ash at his feet. "Did I give you permission to eat, whore? You don't ever take from me without earning . . ."
Even Artemis withheld her blood from him in an effort to control him. If he didn't please her, he starved. More than that were the memories of being forcefed by his father's guards. Shovel it down his throat. Hold his mouth and nose shut until he swallows. And when he'd choked on what they were brutally pouring into his mouth, they'd punched and slapped him, too.
He hated to eat.
Tory reached for the cheese and froze as she caught the strange look on Ash's face. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was afraid of the food in front of him. "What's wrong?"
"I really don't eat breakfast."
This time she heard the underlying note in his voice that reminded her of a small, fearful child. Before she could stop herself, she walked over to him and stood by his side. He continued to look at the plate.
Gently, she took his whiskered chin in her hand and turned his head so that he was looking at her. "I won't force you to eat against your will, Ash. But I don't want to see you starve. Please, eat something."
Ash stared at the vein on her neck that throbbed with the vitality of her life. He could hear her heart beating . . . that was the food he craved.
His incisors elongated at the surge of hunger that went through him. His senses sharpened as he felt his eyes turning red.
Eat . . .
But he couldn't bring himself to feed from her the way Artemis had done him when he'd been human. Even though he could make it pleasurable for her, he couldn't do it. It was such a feeling of being violated to have someone drain the blood out of your body. Have them rip through your flesh with their teeth while you were powerless to stop them . . .
I won't do it.
She reached down and cut a small bit of the eggs off before she brought the fork up to his lips. "Would you please take one bite?"
His instincts were to shove her away from him as his teeth receded. Instead, he found his lips parting so that she could place the eggs on his tongue. The taste stunned him. He hadn't tasted food since before he'd died.
But even better than the food was the satisfied smile on Tory's face. She reached out and stroked his jaw with the backs of her fingers.
Closing his eyes, he savored the tenderness of that touch as his cock hardened forcefully. In that moment, it took every ounce of strength he had not to pull her to him and kiss her. Or more to the point, strip her naked and sate the hollow ache inside him.
Never in all of his existence had he tasted lust like this. It was more than a mere craving, it was a raw, demanding need.
She broke off a piece of toast and held it up to his mouth. Dutifully, he parted his lips and let her feed him again.
Tory couldn't explain the peculiar sense of satisfaction she had from feeding him, but there was no denying it. She felt as if she were taming a feral lion. And when she fed him a piece of bacon, he gently nipped her fingers.
A shiver went over her.
"It's not so bad, is it?"
He shook his head.
She gave him another bite of the eggs. He swallowed them, then took a swig of beer. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her and it made her entire body hot.
"Now that I've placated you . . ." He pulled her against him and captured her lips.
Tory moaned as his tongue touched hers. Never in her life had a man kissed her like this—as if he were breathing her in. Possessing her. His kiss was hot and demanding as he cupped her face in his hands.
Ash was on fire from the taste of her, of the feeling of her tongue against his. Over and over, he could imagine himself buried deep inside her. Feel her hands on his back, stroking him with the same tenderness she'd used to touch his cheek.
Unable to stand it, he trailed one hand down her arm, and around her hips to press her closer to him.
Tory's body throbbed with an unbelievable demand. She wanted to strip those jeans off and taste every inch of his body until she was blind from ecstasy, but at the end of the day, she wasn't stupid.
A man like this didn't date a woman like her. It just didn't happen.
"Whoa, boy," she said, pulling back. "Down. We just met. For that matter, I don't even know what your eye color is."
Ash wanted to whimper as she stepped away from him. His gaze dropped to her nipples that were plainly visible beneath the tank top she wore. All he wanted was to shove her shirt up and take one of them into his mouth.
Would she hold him like he mattered?
Or would she slap him after he'd pleased her and kick him out her bed?
That last thought went over him like ice water. He didn't want to feel used anymore. Not to mention he had one large, red-headed problem who would beat him until he had no skin left on his body if she ever found out he'd kissed another woman.