Chapter 15
Callie
Ican’t breathe.
I jerk against the straps holding my limbs down as my father’s hands squeeze my neck tighter and black spots start to dance in my vision.
“You could stop this if you wanted to,” he shouts, shaking me and smacking my head against the table. “Save yourself, damn it!”
“Love, come back to me.”
I hear the words, the voice low and desperate, but I can’t reach them.
“Help,” I cry weakly.
The spots grow, and my heart beats like frightened wings in my chest.
“Callie, wake up!”
I gasp and launch forward, my hands immediately reaching for my throat. Air refuses to fill my lungs as I look wildly around the room, darkness greeting me at every turn. I’m still trapped, locked in the basement with no way out… no one to save me. There’s just pain and the promise of more. Suddenly, cold arms wrap around me, and I scream.
“Love, it’s me,” the voice whispers in a gentle, melodic timbre. “You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here.”
“Nolan?” I question, his name sounding like it’s been dragged through shattered glass.
“That’s right,” he replies, shifting to turn on one of the bedside lamps.
Soft yellow light chases away the darkness, and my breath slowly returns as my gaze sweeps over the familiar, minimalist furniture.
Sitting upright beside me, he carefully takes one of my hands and drags it over the fluffy, black comforter, grounding me in the present. “Where are you?”
“Your room?” I croak, my throat feeling like it’s made of sandpaper.
“Good,” he murmurs, his free hand rubbing gentle circles along the base of my spine. “Now, what town are we in?”
The sticky cobwebs of my nightmare begin to fade while I try to focus on the answer. “Um… Twin Cedar Pass.”
“Correct. Now, a hard one. Why were high heels first worn?” he asks, teasing the part of my brain that knows weird facts.
I chuckle, the sound wet and husky. “Men wore them as a way to keep their shoes in their stirrups when riding horses.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” he jokes, and then he gathers me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. For a couple minutes, we sit and listen to the drizzling rain outside—no doubt a result of my nightmare. Once my breathing evens out and my heartbeat falls closer to my resting rate, he murmurs, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s okay. Let’s go back to sleep,” I reply, despite being too scared to close my eyes. “You need your rest.”
Nolan sighs, but instead of lying back down, he adjusts the pillows so he can sit up more comfortably. Dipping his arm under my legs and around my back, he drags me into his lap. I squeak in surprise, but I don’t fight him, giving into my need to feel him around me. With my side pressed against his bare chest, he guides my head to rest on his shoulder.
“Yes, I get tired easily,” he concedes, wrapping his arm around my waist while the other rests on my bare thigh under the blanket, “but I also know my limits. It’s okay to lean on me. I won’t break.”
I press my face against his neck and shudder. The sharpened nails of the memories scrape across my mind, tearing me down to the frightened girl who begged for death. “He was always at his worst on my birthday,” I confess, my voice a sad whisper. “More manic. More frustrated. More creative.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight my building tears, but the nightmares live within the dark. They come to life behind my eyelids, a visceral highlight reel of torture that lives like bruising fingerprints on my soul.
Nolan runs his fingers through my sleep mussed hair, the gentle tugs dragging me back to the present. “What was tonight’s nightmare?”
“My fifteenth birthday,” I answer, opening my eyes and swallowing down the emotions clawing at my throat. A bitter laugh escapes me. “It wasn’t even my worst one, but I remember how angry he was by the end, as if I was intentionally failing him…” Tears fall in hot, wet trails down my face and drip onto Nolan’s shoulder. “It’s sick, but I was ashamed, like everything he was doing was a test I was too stupid to pass.” My hands clench into fists on my lap, the fabric of my oversized shirt wrapped around my knuckles. In a voice so quiet I almost make no sound at all, I admit one of my most shameful truths. “As much as I hated him, I still wanted him to love me… to be proud of me.”
His fingers dig into my thigh. “Love, look at me.”
I sit up, but it’s a fight to do as he asks, my eyes weighed heavily with humiliation.
He cups my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be loved. Everyone needs to be loved in some way—romantic, platonic, or familial.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he whispers, “And you are loved in more ways than I can put into words.” He kisses me gently, as if I’m something precious to be savored. “With every breath I take, I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.”
“Even now when I’m a splotchy, drippy mess?” I ask, realizing how terrible I must look while he’s whispering such sweet things.
A smile curls one side of his mouth, and his voice lowers as he murmurs, “Especially now.” One of his hands slides down my throat and journeys to my heart. “For a long time, I was dead inside, and I liked it that way. It meant nothing could hurt me, but then I met you.” His nose brushes against mine, the smile spreading to the other corner of his mouth. “Beautiful, stubborn, and unashamedly, gloriously filled with life.” He looks into my eyes with haunting sincerity. “Since the moment I met you, all I wanted was to bathe in your light. You make me feel clean again.”
I reach up and softly brush my fingers along the sharp planes of his face, overwhelmed by the amount of love I feel for him. “Nolan, you were never dirty to begin with.”
His fingers spread wide on my chest, and my breath hitches. Tingles of awareness radiate from his touch as desire stirs low in my belly. Unconsciously, I lean into his hand, wishing we were skin to skin.
He breathes in my scent, his nostrils flaring, as his gaze drifts to where his hand rests just over my breast. “I know this is horrible timing, but I want you so badly right now.” His thumb brushes against my lips. “I want to show you how much I love you in ways words can’t express. If you don’t want to, I understand…”
“I want you too,” I insist, my hand falling from his face to his bare shoulder. As if they have minds of their own, my fingers begin to trace the lines of lean muscle along his upper arm. “I don’t want to think of the past anymore. I want to make some happy birthday memories.”
His hand drifts lower, and he begins to tease my breast through the thin fabric. A soft gasp falls from my lips when he gently pinches my nipple between his long fingers.
Nolan’s voice drops to a lower octave that wraps around me like smooth silk ribbons. “Tell me how you want me. What kind of memories would you like to make?”
My breath catches as my mind conjures all the ways I’ve imagined touching him and him touching me. Heat builds in my cheeks as the truth catches in my throat. I want him in all ways, but how do I say that? How do I ask for things that go beyond the line we made for ourselves?
Nolan trails kisses up my neck, along my jaw, and finally to my ear, whispering, “Whatever it is you’re thinking, I want it too.”
“How can you if you don’t know what it is?” I question, my words breathy pants as he continues to tease me through my shirt.
His free hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he pulls away far enough to look into my eyes. “Because I trust you.” He swallows heavily. “Love, I’m yours, body and soul.”
After all he’s been through, the fact that he’s offering himself so completely fills me with deep tenderness. I want to honor that and help build new memories for both of us. Within the quiet hours of the darkest night, I will worship him the way he deserves with love, devotion, kindness, and reverence.
I gently push him back into the pillows and shift to straddle his lap. Relief and desire burn in equal measure within his gaze as I pull my shirt up and over my head. A pang of heartache resonates within my chest as I realize he anticipated rejection.
Leaning forward so we’re chest to chest, I cradle the back of his head with my hands and murmur, “I love you, all of you, wholly and completely,” against his lips.
“I love you too,” he whispers, his cool hands sweeping down the length of my spine. “All of you, wholly and completely.”
“Even my magic?” I ask, a seed of hope blooming where only uncertainty lived.
“Yes,” he replies, his voice fueled with regret. “I’m sorry I let fear get in the way. You are perfect as you are in every way.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I laugh self-consciously, hiding my face against his shoulder.
“Clearly, you don’t see what I do,” he replies, his tone a low, silken croon. His hands grip my ass, and he bucks his hips, causing me to gasp. “I guess that means I’ll have to show you.”
Sitting up, I look at him through my lashes and bite my bottom lip. “Before we start, you should probably know that I, um… well, I’ve done some things beyond what we’ve done together, but I haven’t…”
“You’re still a virgin?” he supplies, reaching up to save my lip from my teeth.
I nod, my blush traveling from my cheeks down to my chest. “Not that we have to if you aren’t ready, but I thought you should know.”
A crooked smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “If I’m not ready?”
Crossing my arms over my naked chest, I hunch my shoulders and pout. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I didn’t want to assume.”
Nolan shakes his head, almost in disbelief, and grins. “No, that’s not it. It’s just with everything I’ve done, it’s rare for anyone to consider that I might not be… and with this being your first time.” He shrugs sheepishly. “It feels like I should be asking you if you’re sure instead of the other way around.”
“I’m ready,” I reply in a husky tone. Filled with nervous excitement, I roll my hips, grinding my core against his hard length trapped within his sweats.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, tipping his chin up, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment.
“Are you ready?” I purr, uncrossing my arms so I can trace the lines of his chest and abdomen.
“God, yes.” He takes one of my hands and guides it to the waistband of his sweats. The other fists my hair, and with eyes filled with burning desire, he leans forward to whisper against my lips. “I want your touch on every inch of my skin. I want to know what you taste like on my tongue. Then, when you’re desperate to come, I want to make love to you.”
“Taste?” I question, drunk on his words. “You already know what I taste like.”
His mouth twists into a smile full of sinful promise. Releasing my hand, he reaches farther down, brushing his fingers along my cotton panties. “Here, love. I want to taste you here.”
“Oh,” I whisper, distantly remembering that he mentioned fantasizing about going down on me. A flush burns down my skin as I imagine it, wondering if I’m ready to do the same.
He pulls back far enough to take stock of my expression. “Is that something that turns you on or scares you?”
“I’m a little nervous,” I admit, my eyes falling to his lips. “I want… I want to reciprocate. This is about both of us, but I’ve only used my hands before.”
“Hands are good,” he assures me, gentling his grip in my hair. “Only do what you’re comfortable with. Honestly, having you sit on my face is enough to make me very happy.”
“Sit on your face?” I echo, my eyes wide as my whole body throbs over the suggestion.
Nolan nods, his expression shifting to mild embarrassment. “I want to do this, but I’m going to need your help.” He sighs, his shoulders drooping. “If I do too much too soon, I’ll burn out before we’re done.” He grits his teeth in frustration. “If I were healthy, I’d do this differently.”
“Do you want to feed first?” I offer, pulling my hair over one shoulder.
He shakes his head. “I want our first time together to be just what we feel, not what the bite makes you feel.” His gaze shifts to mine, filled with sad defeat. “I’d understand if you want to wait or have your first time with one of the others.”
Although Felix was the one who introduced me to the guys, it was Nolan who chose to adopt me into the group. When all I knew was violence, he was the first to start breaking down my barriers and show me the healing quality of touch. It feels right that he’ll be the one I take this next step with.
With a tender and full heart, I lean forward and kiss him. It starts slowly, a brush of lips against lips, and then I open my mouth in invitation. He releases a low moan in his throat as his tongue slides against mine. I pour all my feelings that are too big for words into him, exposing my battered, wounded soul that’s only starting to heal. As if it hurts to have any space between us, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me hard against his chest. Deepening the kiss, he passionately explores the recesses of my mouth, causing my lips to tingle under his brutal intensity.
With gasping pants, we pull apart, and Nolan falls back against the pillows, dragging me with him. He closes his eyes as he attempts to suck oxygen into his lungs. “I’m sorry. I just need a moment.”
I drop featherlight kisses along his shoulder and throat, murmuring against his cool skin. “Take your time. I can be patient.”
He laughs, a rusty sound between stolen breaths. “I know. It used to drive me crazy how composed you could be after the bite, while I was going mad from wanting you.”
“The feeling was more mutual than I let on,” I admit, filling my fingers with magic. Imagining the gentle warmth of a cozy fire spreading from my touch, I drag them down his upper arm.
“Oh, that feels good,” he murmurs, his body relaxing into the pillows.
“I love you,” I whisper like it’s one of life’s greatest truths. “I want you to be my first. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“I love you too,” he replies just as reverently, sliding his hands down my sides and up my back. “It’s probably best if I stay lying down.” He swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You’ll need to be on top of me.”
Feeling equal parts empowered and vulnerable, I nod, my nose brushing against the crux of his neck and shoulder. “I can do that.”
“Good,” he murmurs, his fingers slowly following the bumps of my spine. There’s a smile in his voice when he reaches my ass and squeezes. “Now, do you want me to use my hands or mouth first? Both is also an option.”
Sitting up enough to see his face, I purr, “What do you want to do?”
His smile shifts to a grin with a hint of fang. “I’ve always had a bit of an oral fixation.”
Nervousness and excitement buzz in equal measures in my belly. “So how do we do this?”
Heat burns within his gaze as it slides down my mostly naked body. Tucking his fingers in the waistband of my panties, he murmurs, “Take these off, and then I want you to straddle my head.” Before I can move, he uses his free hand to grip my chin and looks directly into my eyes. “I love you, and I want to make this good for you, which means you have to promise me something.”
Shocked by his sudden seriousness, I nod my head. “Anything.”
“If you change your mind at any point, tell me, and we’ll stop. If something doesn’t feel good, tell me, and we’ll stop. If—”
A smile skirts across my lips, and I give him a quick kiss. “I get it. Only do what I’m comfortable with.” I playfully poke him in the chest. “That goes both ways.”
“Good.” His hand falls from my chin to cup one of my breasts. Leaning forward, he whispers, “Ready to make one of my fantasies come true?”
Shivers run down my spine as the reality of what I’m about to do sets in. I will be an active participant in our pleasure, and everything that will happen will only be because I choose to, starting with my own nakedness. Climbing off him, I stand beside the bed, wishing I’d worn something prettier than my normal cotton panties. In the frenzy of getting ready for my birthday, I didn’t consider that I might be in this position by the end of it. In the books, the female protagonist is always in something silky or lacy that makes her men drool just by looking at her.
However, my fears appear to be unfounded, judging by the way Nolan’s eyes drink me in. “You are so sexy,” he whispers, cupping his hard cock through his sweats. “I could look at you forever.”
His words make me feel powerful, and I slowly push my last piece of clothing off my hips and down my legs. “You better do more than just look.”
He licks his lips, and a salacious smile full of dark promise takes over his features. “I plan to.”
Determined not to be a shrinking violet, I gather my courage and climb back onto the bed. Kneeling beside him, I run my hand down his bare torso. “Before we get started, it doesn’t seem fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.”
“That can be fixed,” he replies, immediately reaching for his waistband.
He lifts his hips as he shoves his sweats and boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them off with his feet. Despite everything the illness has stolen from him, he’s still strikingly handsome, and I’m left with the overwhelming urge to know every inch of him.
“May I touch you?” I ask with quiet reverence.
His lips twitch, as if he’s ready to make a joke, but then the question seems to sink in. It’s in the haunted shadows of his eyes—the wound of too many taking what they wanted from him, assuming it was their right—and he seems momentarily stunned.
Carefully, he reaches for my hand and places it on his chest. “Yes, my love.”
Watching my expression, he guides me down his body, his breath catching when my fingers wrap around his cock. He silently teaches me how he likes to be touched, thrusting gently into our joined hands. Witnessing him slowly become undone is a heady thing, and I marvel as pleasure transforms his features. With furrowed brows, his eyelids droop until only slivers of icy blue are visible, and a soft moan falls from his parted lips.
“Kiss me,” he pleads, tipping his face toward mine.
“Happily,” I murmur, leaning down and pressing my mouth to his.
At first, the kiss is a tender, exploring dance, but as his passion builds, he grows more insistent. His free hand tangles in my hair, holding me to him, and he begins feasting on my lips and sucking on my tongue. I’m consumed by him, surviving on the air from his lungs because I dare not stop long enough to take a single breath. It’s only when I feel the barest prick of his fangs that I pull back.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Sometimes I can’t control them.”
“I know you’re worried about how the bite will affect me, but it really is okay if you want to feed,” I tell him and then give him a featherlight kiss. “I promise it won’t change how I feel about you or about what I want.”
He considers my words, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want the bite? Would it make you more comfortable?”
“I don’t want you to hold back,” I state, continuing my slow strokes up and down his shaft. “Being a vampire is as much a part of you as being a witch is a part of me. There’s no shame in giving into what we are.”
Nolan shudders. “Fuck… Okay.” He clears his throat. “On two conditions.”
Brushing my lips along his jaw, I ask, “And they are?”
His fingers tighten in my hair as his hips buck into my touch. “First, if I’m not holding back, neither are you. I want to feel your magic—not just in your blood, but everywhere.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult.” I laugh as my heart feels like it’ll burst with love. “I still can’t really control it when I get, um…”
“Turned on?” he purrs, dragging his extended fangs along the tender flesh of my neck.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum. The memories of his bite are burned into my skin, and my entire body throbs with the implied promise.
“Call on your magic, Callie,” he directs, releasing my hair so he can run his fingers down my side. “I want to make my warrior witch come.”
Desire floods between my legs as his words awaken the side of me that’s powerful and terrifying, slinking in the darkness with icy sharp claws and dancing fearless and free in the moonlight with monsters—the side of me that croons lovingly to the predator within him.
“Oh fuck!” he shouts, his breathing turning ragged as my magic comes out to play. It coats his skin and fills the room with a scorching heat, fueled by my burning need for him.
“And your second condition?” I ask huskily, focused on his traveling fingers on my inner thigh.
Nolan sits up and whispers against the shell of my ear. “You’re going to sit on my face while I feed from you right here.” He strokes the spot on my inner thigh before his fingers lightly brush my core, causing a shock of shivers to run down my spine. “And then I’m going to taste you here. Do my terms sound good to you?”
“That, uh, sounds reasonable to me,” I rasp, unconsciously spreading my knees wider. “What direction do I face?”
He gives a pointed look to my hand still wrapped around him, and a slow smile spreads across his lips. “That’s up to you, love. I guess it depends on what you want to do with your hands.”
“There is a saying about idle hands,” I muse, loosening my grip so I can trail my fingers along his shaft.
His breath is hot against my ear as he exhales. “Mm… Something about it being a bad thing.”
“Exactly,” I murmur and gently push him back into the pillows.
The way he looks at me, like I’m the most exquisite being he’s ever seen, makes me feel womanly and powerful. While he moves some pillows to lie flat on the bed, I shift my back to him. However, as my knees bracket his head, a new level of awareness ripples over my skin. I’m completely exposed to him in a place I’m only beginning to explore myself. Fortunately, before I can get too deep in my own head, worried that I should have fled into the bathroom and scrubbed every inch of me clean first, Nolan runs his hands up my thighs and groans with masculine delight.
“So fucking sexy,” he purrs, the heat of his breath shocking against my nether regions. Turning his head, he licks a particularly sensitive part of my inner thigh. “Ready?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, tingling with anticipation.
There’s a sharp pinch as his fangs sink into me, followed quickly by tendrils of pleasure and need that chase any remaining inhibitions away. Clutching the bedsheet tangled beneath us, I moan softly as my world explodes in color.
Nolan grips my outer thigh with his left hand, holding me in place. He groans with the bliss of a starving man tasting the sweetest of fruit and sucks on my flesh as if he’s afraid to miss a single drop.
The urge to feel his skin against mine builds, and I feel almost drunk on the relief that I now have full permission to give into it. Strangely, the knowledge quiets the normal desperation, allowing me to savor the sheer delight that he is mine to nurture and adore. Shifting my weight to one hand, I gently run my fingers down his stomach, over the hills and valleys of his hips, and tease his straining cock.
He answers in kind, his free hand slipping from the valley between my breasts, down my belly, and to my core. His thumb runs along the seam of my pussy, coating it with my arousal, until he finds the most sensitive spot on my entire body. He slowly strokes in small circles with the barest of pressure, leaving me shaking from the stimulation.
“Oh goddess,” I cry, as sparks of pleasure ignite within me.
I feel his smile against my skin as Nolan retracts his fangs. After running his tongue along the puncture marks, he asks, “Like that, do you?” with the amusement of a confident lover.
“Yes,” I pant, split between the urge to drop my hips into his touch or skitter away. I’m overwhelmed by the sensations of being touched so intimately for the first time with no fabric between us to dull the feeling.
After kissing his way up my inner thigh, he releases a hot breath against my core. “I’ve dreamt about how you would taste.”
“You, uh, mentioned that,” I mumble, quaking as the hand that was holding my thigh slips between my legs.
He spreads me wide and then runs his tongue through my wetness in a slow sweep. With a satisfied hum, he murmurs, “Better than I imagined.”
“Oh!” I gasp, dropping to my elbows as he tastes and touches where no one has before.
At first, it’s an odd sensation, a combination of hot and tingly from the slight numbing effect of his saliva, but then he replaces his thumb with his mouth, and I see stars. He consumes me with the same fervor as he did when feeding, sucking on my clit and flicking his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves.
Through the headiness of my own pleasure and lust, I vaguely recall that the whole point of this particular position was so I could touch him as freely as he touches me. Leaning my weight onto one elbow, I wrap my fingers around his silken length, now slick with precum. I’m clumsy at first, still not quite sure how much pressure to use.
“Tighter over the head,” Nolan rasps, bucking his hips. “It’s okay, love. You won’t hurt me.”
Attempting to do as instructed, I make the opening in my hand smaller when going over the crown and then larger down the shaft. “Like this?”
“Yes, just like that,” he growls, the vibrations of his lips against me sending shivers throughout my body. “Fuck. Feels so good.”
His reaction makes me feel bold, and I want to do more. I want to know him as he knows me. I’m too short to attempt to take him fully into my mouth, but I can taste the tip. Equal parts nervous and excited, I continue to stroke his shaft, pointing him toward my face. My heart flutters as I take the first tentative lick.
He freezes for a moment, his body vibrating beneath me. “You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” I reply, dropping a kiss on his lower belly. “Tell me how.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, gripping my hip. “Think of it like you’re holding an ice cream cone that you don’t want to drip. Lick around and then suck the top. Careful with your teeth.”
The analogy makes the process seem less intimidating. Imagining it’s a hot summer day, I run the flat of my tongue over and around the head of his cock, the taste of salt and sweat lingering in my mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, his hips arching and his toes curling when I begin gently sucking the tip.
Nolan reciprocates my actions, his far more skillful tongue turning my body into a live wire of mounting ecstasy. As he focuses on my clit with his mouth, he dips one finger inside me. The intrusion is shocking but not unpleasant, like he’s filling an aching need that I could never quite reach. He slowly pumps in and out of me, and instinctually, I start rocking my hips with the motion. A soft mewling sound escapes me when he adds a second finger.
“Damn, you’re tight,” he comments with a hint of concern.
“I’ve never… um… put… anything…” I babble, embarrassed to admit how little I’ve explored my own body.
“It’s okay, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
I feel very na?ve. Most of my knowledge is from sex ed in health class and, more recently, romance novels. “Isn’t it supposed to?” I ask.
“Not if I do this right.” While his two fingers continue to gently stretch me, he uses the thumb on his other hand to rub circles over my clit. “I’m going to edge you a bit.”
“Edge me?” I echo, the question coming out breathless as pleasure builds between my legs and radiates throughout my body.
“You’ll see.” He kisses my inner thigh, and I feel his smile against my skin. “Try to relax and enjoy the ride.”
The meaning of the term becomes frustratingly evident as Nolan concentrates his efforts on leaving me on the cusp of release. With every stroke of his fingers or flick of his tongue, I’m left seeing stars. My magic builds in equal measure of my growing pleasure, flowing around me and seeping into him. At first, I don’t realize what’s happening beyond the sensations gripping my body until I notice he moans with me even though I’ve grown too distracted to reciprocate. His timing is also beyond perfect to keep me from fully climaxing.
I’m doing it again. My magic is giving me away, and the brilliant jerk is using it to his advantage.
He plays me like a world-class violinist, making my body sing the most visceral of melodies. I’m nearly dizzy from the way my muscles keep tensing when I’m close then relaxing when he pulls me back from the edge. Eventually, I grow so weak that my entire upper body collapses on top of him, and I’m begging in barely coherent moans for more.
His fingers slow to a lazy rhythm, and he nips the delicate flesh of my thigh with his human teeth. “You ready for me, love?”
“Yes,” I whine, desperate to fill this aching need inside me.
When Nolan starts blindly reaching for his bedside table, I climb off him with all the grace of a baby deer, careful not to hit him with my knee. If I wasn’t out of my mind with arousal, I’d probably just stay flopped on my side, too tired to get up. How can an experience be exceptionally pleasurable and also so maddening?
Once he retrieves a condom, he looks over at me and smiles with amusement. “If it’s too much, we can wait for another night.”
“The hell we will,” I grumble, giving him a heated glare.
His smile shifts to a grin, and he rips open the foil package. After guiding the lubricated rubber down his straining cock, he lifts himself up onto one elbow and runs his hand down my bare hip. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I could admire you for hours.”
I glow under the depth of his sincerity. Sitting up while facing him, I get to my knees and kiss him with all the tenderness living within my heart. “I love you more than I have words to express.”
“I love you too,” he whispers against my mouth.
In this cradled world of love and beauty, I watch his face as I straddle his hips and slowly slide down his length. His eyelids droop, his brows furrow, and his lips part as a low moan pours out of him, but his eyes—those mesmerizing pale chips of ice blue—stay riveted on mine.
As promised, it isn’t painful. It’s more of a pleasurable stretching sensation that takes a moment to adjust to. He doesn’t rush me, instead reaching down between us to rub circles against my clit with his thumb. The combination of feeling so full and the stimulation of the overly sensitive bundle of nerves causes my legs to shake and my sex to clench around him. He exhales sharply but doesn’t stop, once again leading me to the brink of ecstasy.
Instinctually, my hips begin to rock, and there’s a whole new level of pleasure as he seems to reach something unexplored within me.
“That’s it, my love,” he purrs, grasping my hip with his free hand and matching my pace with gentle thrusts of his own. “Ride me. Take what you want.”
Bracing my hands on his chest, I tip my chin up, and my hair cascades down my back. Panting moans escape my parted lips as I increase my speed, chasing the building pressure blooming between my legs and spreading throughout my body. Sweat drips between my breasts, and I shiver as Nolan sits up to lick it from my skin.
“You feel so fucking good,” he praises, his hand moving from my hip to cup my breast. He works my peaked nipple between his fingers, while his other hand continues to stroke my clit. “Come for me, love. Let yourself go.” He takes my free nipple into his hot, wet mouth, the gentle suction only heightening the already overwhelming pleasure taking over my body.
It’s not long before I’m once again on the precipice of release, my straining need coiled around me. This time, I blissfully dive over the edge, crying out Nolan’s name like a prayer. Thanks to my magic, he comes right along with me, his whole body flexing as he climaxes. Shattered and remade, we collapse onto the bed, gasping for air.
For several seconds, we lie wrapped in each other’s arms, still connected as we catch our breath. With my head resting on his chest, I listen to his heartbeat as it slowly returns to resting levels. It’s a comforting sound—the sound of life.
Nolan gently runs his fingers through my tangled hair. “Thank you.”
As I look up at him, my expression turns into a confused frown. “For what?”
“For loving me.” His lips pull into a crooked smile. “I didn’t make it easy.”
I open my mouth to reply, but he presses a finger to my lips.
“Before you argue, I’m not saying I’m unlovable.” He sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “I just… I didn’t want to love anyone ever again, so I intentionally pushed it away, but because of what I needed to do to survive, it also took something from me.” He lowers his gaze back to me. “Tonight, you gave it back to me. I love you so damn much, and being with you like this…” His eyes turn glassy, and his smile wobbles at the corners. “I gave up hope that it could ever be this way for me.”
“One of these days, Nolan Campbell, you will see yourself the way I see you. You are one of the most loving people I have ever known, which, yes, has also made you very frustrating at times.” We both laugh, and I kiss his chest. “I love you too, so very much, and I’m glad I had my first time with you.”
He cups my face with one hand, running his thumb over my cheekbone in gentle arcs. “How are you feeling, by the way? I hope it didn’t hurt too much.”
“It didn’t hurt at all. What you did was maddening but effective.” I shift until I’m lying beside him, taking stock of my body as I move. “My inner thighs are a little sore, but otherwise, I’m okay.”
Amusement dances in his eyes. “Drives Donovan crazy too, but the payoff is usually worth it.”
Despite everything we just did, a blush spreads across my cheeks as I recall the explosive feeling of finally being able to climax. “I don’t know if I’d like it every time, but it did feel good.”
“Good.” He drops a kiss to my lips that tastes both salty and sweet, and my blush deepens when I realize what I taste is me.
“You, uh… You might want to wipe…” I motion toward my mouth.
He licks his lips and hums with masculine pleasure. “I love the way you taste.”
My eyes grow owlish, and my brain short-circuits. “You do?”
“Mm-hmm,” he purrs, running his hand down my belly, his fingers dangerously close to where I’m most sensitive. “Can’t wait to do it again.”
“You can’t?” I reply, apparently only able to string two words together at a time.
His smile grows into a grin. “Any other night, I would have you coming over and over again from my mouth alone.” He sighs, a hint of melancholy seeping into his gaze. “Tonight, unfortunately, I’m running on borrowed time.” His lips press against my forehead. “Something to look forward to when I’m better.”
“That might be the first time you admitted that you expect to get better,” I muse, watching the play of muscles in his back as he sits up on the side of the bed.
“First time I have hope of getting better,” he replies, looking over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“Hope is hard to come by sometimes,” I state, frowning as I watch him open the bottom drawer of his nightstand and drop the used condom inside. “I can throw that away for you.”
“There’s a small trash can in here,” he explains, though he seems embarrassed to admit it. “I, uh, put it there along with a few other things when it got harder to get out of bed.”
Propping myself up on one elbow, I ask, “Like what?”
“Like this,” he replies, handing me a bottle of room temp water before closing the drawer. At first, I don’t understand why he’d be embarrassed by a trash can and some bottled water, until he opens the top drawer and pulls out a couple of wet towelettes. He turns back around and says, “Here, let me help you get cleaned up.”
I shyly spread my legs, watching as he uses the first to gently clean any remaining blood on my thigh from the bite. It’s warm against my skin, which I didn’t expect. When he switches to the second one, I can’t help the shiver that runs through me as he carefully wipes away my excess arousal.
“You okay?” he asks, his hand stopping mid-motion.
“Just, um, still a little sensitive,” I admit, awkwardly fiddling with the bottle of water.
He nods, being even more gentle as he continues. “Edging can have that effect.”
When he finishes, he grabs a third towelette to clean himself before disposing of them, and then he leans down to retrieve my clothes. While I wiggle back into my underwear and T-shirt, he digs under the comforter for his sweats. By the time we’re both dressed and back under the covers, his eyes begin to droop, the first signs that fatigue is setting in.
While yawning, he opens his arms, and I immediately shift into his embrace, my head tucked under his chin. Our legs tangle together, and he squeezes me tightly. “I love you,” he mumbles, and then he is unconscious before I can say it back. My heart swells with the depth of my feelings, and I happily snuggle against him, whispering the words of endearment so they fill his dreams.
Before drifting off to sleep myself, I place my hand on his chest and peer into the soul that I love so much. Tears spring into my eyes, and I’m horrified by what I find. Gone is the golden light and gentle laughter. Now, his soul is gray and withering. At its core is a darkness I’ve never seen before—a bloated beast with teeth and a hunger that is all consuming.
Sensing the promise of pure magic, it reaches for me with tar-like tentacles, ready to drag me under. It’s sickening in its familiarity. Flashbacks of the night I was nearly trapped within Gina have me recoiling back into myself. I clasp a hand over my mouth to muffle my sob, not wanting to wake Nolan. I don’t know how I missed it before, but one painful truth becomes evident—his grandmother is wrong. If we don’t cure him fast, his body might survive, but there will be nothing left of his soul.