Those ominous eyes widened, recognition flashing through the intense bloodlust. As soon as her warm skin grazed his cheek, the bloodlust took over. He grabbed her wrist, then her shoulder, and pinned her against the wall.
Eleanor felt the air knock out of her lungs as her back collided with the hard surface. Her chest heaved heavily, her lips parting to catch a faint whisper of air.
Ares leaned in, his face burying in the crook of her neck. Without hesitation, he sank his fangs into the familiar spot, groaning as sweet, warm blood—tasting like heaven itself—poured into his mouth.
He pinned her hand to the wall, his claws sinking through cloak and dress, piercing her shoulder and grazing her skin as all control slipped from his grasp. Control.... was nonexistent; his craving for her blood consumed him.
