He spent enough time in the bath, cooling himself off over the anger and restraint that slipped through his fingers like sand. His clothes were soaked, and drops of water fell on the dried ground of the room. His hair looked darker, and so did his eyes with the water sliding down to the tip of his hair.
When Madeline was under him on his bed, looking up at him defenceless with her eyes teary, all he had wanted to do was sink his fangs into her to hear her cry out his name and the thought had driven him to the edge. Her body was small against him, just a bunch of clothes separating her from his touch.
