Chapter 7 Royce
ROYCE
Shit.
Closing my eyes, they water, but never do I let a tear fall.
Beckham mustn’t know I am upset. He is the only one I care about and have vowed to love and protect until the end of our time. Beckham Blackheart has been mine to keep for nearly two years. And no one has known… until now.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I allow myself to fall back into the moment of pure, unapologetic happiness I was experiencing before feeling his presence among us.
Beckham has heard tales of my foster brother, Prince, but I have never elaborated on the extent of it all.
The battle would be full of bloodshed and heartache, not one I think I could withstand if I lost this man.
Prince would fucking destroy him, and I say that because it’s true.
Beckham is fiercely protective, but Prince, he never stops.
The level of pure hatred coursing through his veins is something I strongly believe no one could stand up to and survive.
And now, Prince knows about him. He could take what’s mine away from me in the blink of an eye. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach.
Shaking my head ever so slightly, ridding my mind of the possibilities and returning to the present, I give in to Beckham’s touch, allowing the ecstasy of being with him, my mate, to take over.
Beckham lowers his tight jeans, allowing them to bunch at his ankles, while I adjust myself.
Sitting on top of the small desk, legs spread, my dripping pussy is on display with my dress gathered at my hips.
The palm of his hand rubs against me, and my hips grind against his soft skin, my clit craving him.
“She’s mine. You. Are. Mine.” His declaration of ownership over me fills my body with warmth and need. Leaning forward, my lips brush against his jawline and my breath dances along his skin. “And you are mine,” Beckham growls, then hisses, “fucking forever. I belong to you.”
At the same time as he speaks his promise, I feel his hand move, and it is replaced by his hard cock slamming into me.
A loud moan releases from me as I accept every fucking inch of him.
Desperately, I need his cum to replace what is currently inside of me.
I can’t stand having Prince inside me for a moment longer.
Wrapping my legs around his narrow waist, I need him closer to me.
It’s never enough; I will always crave more.
Our lips lock, and it feels as if we are sucking each other’s souls, the energy that passes through us sending shivers down my spine as goosebumps form along my skin.
Squeezing my bare heels against his bare ass, I pull him closer, using him, grinding my clit against his pelvis.
My walls grip him as his movements become more hurried.
The mixture of moans and panting through my nose becomes more audible in the small space and sweat beads along my forehead.
Squeezing the desk with my fingers, the sensation we are both chasing starts to build.
Beckham breaks the kiss, his lashes brushing against mine, followed by his strong hands gripping my face. Warm breath tickles me as I open my eyes to meet his beautiful amber stare.
My orgasm builds in my lower abdomen, and with a quivering lip and flexed toes, I give in.
And Beckham is quick to follow. Ropes of his warm cum coat me.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” My words are soft and husky; meanwhile, his are spoken with a tremble.
“You are my home.” And my heart instantly melts; I love this man.
Lost in the moment, our focus is solely on each other because nothing else in the world matters right now.
Being this consumed by one another could be detrimental, because Prince is surely still lurking around, waiting and plotting.
But before I allow those thoughts to run rampant, the old wooden table gives out, and we go down with it.
Beckham and I both look at each other in shock.
What in the actual fuck just happened? A cloud of dust floats around us, and the shock quickly turns into loud laughter.
His cock is still inside of me as I clenched my walls tighter to keep it safe as we went down.
And his hands are no longer on my face; they are instead on either side of me as he braces us for landing.
Burying my face into the crook of his neck, I breathe in his scent in an effort to muffle my hysterics.
“Baby, only with you would this happen.” Beckham chuckles into my hair. The tip of my tongue sticks out, tracing the indentations and ridges along his skin, and my sharp nails scratch his back. The memory of how it happened flashes in front of me.
It was instant; one look, and we saw each other, I mean, really fucking saw each other. Our hearts and souls connected, and we had to have one another. We didn’t act on it then, but days passed, cravings increased, while my body ached, desperate to be around him again.
I couldn’t take it any longer; then five days passed since seeing him in the woods. Five days of me cowering in my room, trying to fight the inevitable.
The house is quiet; the sun has fallen while I lay with sweaty palms in my bed. With each tick of the clock my anxiety rises, but it has to be tonight. With one swift move, my body shoots up, sliding my second-story bedroom window open and closing my eyes. I jump.
The silk of my white dress flutters, and the fall feels like minutes, not seconds, before I finally land on both feet.
It stings, sending a shock up my bones, causing me to fall over.
My hands braced for it, hitting the earth at the same time to not further injure myself.
I lie like this for minutes, waiting for the tingling to subside.
The night is calm; no movement from inside the house could be heard; I’m almost there. The plan is nearly complete.
Steadily, I begin to lift myself up, taking a deep breath in and brushing the dirt off of me.
Standing still, my eyes shift one last time before my feet take off running into the thick tree line. A giant smile adorns my face. I fucking did it. Once in the shadows of the forest, I stop to catch my breath and hope this was all worth it. Please be there.
Hours pass, and the beds of my feet are tattered from pebbles and branches. Any noise and my body stops, hoping it’s him. But it never is.
Feeling defeated, my back slides down a large trunk. The bark scratches me, but it’s fine. Any marks I can explain due to my tendency to be reckless.
Resting my head, it falls back, then a male’s voice can be heard. “Don’t be sad, baby. I’m sorry I’m so late.”
Nervous, I bring my knees into myself, wrapping my arms around them. Looking around, I don’t see anyone. A couple of owls hoot, bringing my attention to the night sky, which is decorated with bright stars. They are so beautiful, I could get lost in them forever.
My concentration is broken when the crack of a branch next to me puts me on alert.
Looking back down, what is mine stands before me.
He is casual and so fucking cool, his hands in his pant pockets, combat boots on his feet and crossed at the ankles as he leans against a tree across from me.
In a black tee with black hair and the cockiest grin on his face, I smile.
His hand reaches out, and without a thought, I take it as he helps me rise. It’s electric.
Looking up at him and his over-six-foot frame to my barely five-foot-one, I make the first move, gripping his face and planting my lips on his.
He hisses, like it stings, but it doesn’t stop me. Our tongues meet, dancing, battling for dominance, and I give in, allowing him to take control. His hands grip my waist, and my legs wrap around him.
“I need you inside of me,” I whisper against his lips, and he wastes no time undoing his pants and sliding into my soaked pussy.
We fuck like rabid animals, our movements quick and hard.
Neither one of us will last long. Then, just before I come, something out of the ordinary happens.
I have a distinct urge to mark him, claim him. To make him fucking mine.
Saliva builds in my mouth, the craving increasing with each passing moment since this thought enters my mind. Bringing my lips to his cool, soft neck, I bite down, deep without hesitation. My teeth sink in and break his thin, delicate skin as my body quivers, releasing all over his cock.
His movements become more feral, and his hard cock pounds into my pussy relentlessly, neither of us refusing to let up.
And instead of a metal taste erupting on my taste buds, it’s more salty, which confuses me.
His instinct is quick as his senses react, and with a sensual moan into my ear, he whispers, “I’m a vampire, baby. It’s not blood; it’s fucking magic.”
Meaning, blood doesn’t freely flow through him. They drink it to survive but don’t produce it. Regardless, it’s my new favorite addiction.
My teeth release from him as I feel him filling me up, coating my pussy with his cum. At the same time, he begins to lower us to the ground, laying me gently on my back. Pulling out, cum is still shooting out of his cock, landing on my inner thighs as we watch it drip down.
Lowering his head between my legs, he glances up at me, his eyes dark and his smile large with sharp teeth exposed.
His eyes never leaving mine, his head continues to move slowly while his lips trace along my exposed skin, teasing me.
Goosebumps riddle me as my stomach knots in anticipation.
As this beautiful fucking man nips at my flesh, the moonlight catches his canines, allowing them to glisten before they become embedded in my skin.
I’m aroused. Something he can sense as his warm tongue teases my skin. A moan of his own follows, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
My pussy throbs, needing more while my back arches. His thick, dark hair is too good to resist, so I entangle my fingers through it, encouraging him to never stop as my body vibrates in desire.
“Mine,” I declare, and his eyes look up at me and wink. A mixture of blood and cum runs down his chin, and I know I am keeping him for the rest of my life.
He breaks away from the bite, and I take my fingers from his hair and swipe my thumb along his chin. I want to taste it too.
Slipping my thumb between my swollen lips, I suck back his release mixed with my savory blood, a moan slipping as my soul begs for more of our sweet nectar.
“Beckham.” He shyly introduces himself with hooded eyes filled with lust.
And I share my name in return. “Royce.”
From that night on, there has been no one else. Beckham has my heart and soul, just as I have his. And Prince doesn’t count.
Makeup hides Beckham’s mark, our bond, our eternity together. I will and have done anything and everything to keep him safe. Lying, cheating, and sweet deception included. My foster brother had no idea I was doing so fucking good until now.
Now, fear ripples through my bones, not for me, because I can take whatever he delivers, but for what’s mine, Beckham.
I try to shake all negative thoughts from the forefront of my brain.
Prince is impulsive and obsessive, but he’s not stupid. Anything that may happen won’t be done until he gets me alone.
Glancing, lines to rides build, and as we walk past them, I’m not sure how much time has passed, but we are back on the main cobbled path of Fright Night.
Beckham leans over, softly whispering against my bare shoulder, “I was wondering when you were going to come back to me.”
I smile. “I was just thinking about when we first met.”
My words encourage his smile to grow. “I love you, baby.” His lips pepper kisses on my skin, and I melt.
“Royce!” A deep voice startles me, and I jump. Looking next to me, with my hand on my chest, I see it’s just Jerry.
Jerry is our town’s plumber; the guy knows his pipes.
It’s important to note he is also a fairy, or fae, so I’m sure having magic helps with his customer satisfaction.
With small pink wings, a faded white crop top, and black acid-washed shorts showing off his curvy, tattooed frame, he flutters next to us.
“Let Agatha know I will stop by tomorrow; the part we were waiting for has arrived.” His excitement for the trade is fascinating and nearly contagious.
I reply, “Absolutely, Jerry.”
Scratching his bald head, he kicks his distressed work boot-clad feet and flies away.
“The guy is a legend, I’m telling you.” Beckham treats Jerry like he’s a hero. Always have. Like I said, it’s nearly contagious, just not to me.