Chapter 2 #2
His mouth suddenly claims mine before I can speak.
Heat explodes through my skull. My gasp of surprise has his kiss deepening into an all-consuming possession, like a fire owning me, tongue sliding over mine with brutal precision.
One hand tangles in my hair, the other presses low against my back.
I whimper, my mind breaking into pieces as he devours me.
And yet, beneath the shock, beneath the sensory overload and confusion, something else slips into my thoughts, the only kiss I’ve had before this.
That awkward moment behind the bar with a guy I’d gone out with once, who smelled like beer and kept licking his lips like it was supposed to be sexy.
I remember flinching when his tongue touched mine, how I had smiled politely, pulled back, lied about needing to use the bathroom, and left through the back door ten minutes later.
There was nothing in that kiss, no heat, no passionate hunger, no gravity. But this…
Roman’s mouth on mine feels like I had been dragged under. Like I’d been kissed by a storm that didn’t care if I survived it. I didn’t just taste him, I felt him. In my chest, in my stomach, between my thighs, my whole body was vibrating.
Every nerve in my body responded, every thought blurred and cracked apart.
I wasn’t even kissing him back, I was just surviving the storm, and I didn’t want it to stop.
This was the type of kiss, type of feelings I always dreamed of, and today out of the blue, this God of a man had chosen me to kiss.
When he pulled back, my lips swollen, my eyes are glazed. “You feel it,” he states. “Say it.” Tears welled in my eyes, but not from fear, from shock, from knowing he was right. What the hell is happening to me? And what is this that I’m feeling?
“I don’t know what this is…” Roman bares his fangs.
My breath catches. Everything in me freezes, it’s like my body has been slammed into ice.
Those aren’t prosthetics, not some edgy club fashion.
My eyes widen as I stare at his mouth, they're long, white, sharp, too sharp.
They are designed for tearing, not teasing.
I stumble back a step, the air punched out of my lungs. He follows me not letting me go.
“What the hell…” My voice breaks. “This is a joke, isn’t it? Rosemary put you up to it, didn’t she?”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. He lets me see him, all of him. There is no shame in his expression. No hesitation, just that same steady, commanding presence radiating off his body like heat off a pavement.
“I’m exactly what I look like,” he says calmly. “I’m a vampire, I am Roman Dragic, the Vampire Mafia Don and you my little innocent are my mate.”
I shake my head hard, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “No…No, that’s not real. That’s not possible, is it?”
“You feel it. You know it is.” He answers, his hand still firmly on my waist. The heat of his fingers feels like they are burning
“No!” I back up again, he follows as I bump into the wall, my hands flying up like I can somehow hold reality at bay. “That stuff’s just stories. Movies. Not real life.” His eyes stay locked on mine, fangs still out, voice low and unshakable.
“It’s always been real. You’ve just been lucky enough not to see it, until now,” he explains.
I want to run, I want to scream. But my body betrays me, locked in place, rooted by some unseen force that’s far more than fear, because deep inside the panic…
is heat, a deep routed want that I never thought possible, an all-consuming hunger .
It makes no sense, none of this does. I just found out vampires are real, that one of them is standing in front of me, that he kissed me and I let him, not just that but I enjoyed it. And worse… part of me wants him to do it again.
“How…how is this happening?” I whisper. “Why me?” There must be some kind of explanation. Did someone drug me, am I hallucinating?
He lifts his hand to my cheek, the feel of his fingers sending a frisson through my bloodstream, and even though my heart leaps, I don’t move.
If I was hallucinating, would I feel this?
“You were born marked,” he explains. “You were made for me, that’s the bond. You feel it.” I do. God help me, I do.
“You’re mine, tonight, tomorrow. Until the fucking end.” He growls as he dips his head, and without hesitation, bites into my neck. I gasp as a sharp pain shoot from his bite, I start to push him away but then heat spreads like liquid lightning down my spine.
This is real, there is no way that I could be imagining this.
He didn’t drink much, one minute he’s at my throat and the next he is lifting his head to stare deep into my eyes.
His thumb raising to the pulse at my neck, rubbing in gentle circles.
When he pulls back, blood slicked his lips.
His eyes are black with want. “You’re bound to me now.
You’ll never crave another. You’ll never feel safe with anyone but me. You are now mine, now and forever”
I was shaking. I didn’t know if it was from fear, adrenaline, or whatever unnatural pull his touch had ignited inside me, maybe all of it. My legs felt hollow, my skin felt too tight. My heart, chaotic.
“I…” I licked my lips, feeling my heart racing in my chest. “I need to go.”
Roman didn’t move, he didn’t even blink. “I need to go home,” I said more firmly, trying to ignore the way my voice trembled. “This is… all too much. I don’t even know what just happened, and I can’t…I need time, space to think. Please.”
His jaw clenched. A flicker of restraint crossed his face, but it didn’t last. “You don’t need time,” he said flatly. “You need me. And you’re not going anywhere without me.”
My stomach twisted. “You can’t just decide that for me…”
“I already have,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “The second you walked into my world, the bond locked, fate decided for both of us. I’m not letting you walk out of here like this never happened.”
“You don’t even know me, don’t even know my name.”
“I know enough,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re mine. And that means your life just changed.”
I shook my head, trying to hold onto some thread of normalcy. “No. You don’t understand. I have a job. A shitty one, yeah, but I need it. And my sister, she’s out there somewhere, partying, with my house keys. I need to find her, get home. My home.”
“You won’t be going back there,” he said, voice cold and final. “You will live with me now.”
“Tell me about yourself, what’s your name?” I blinked. “Wh…what?”
“Your name,” he asks again, “Tell me.”
“L-Layla Simone,” I stammer.
“Pretty name,” his voice vibrates through my body, as if he is touching me.
I stared at him, mouth falling open. “What?” I whispered. “You can’t just…” sighing I shake my head before continuing, my voice shaky but clear. Maybe if I tell him about my self, he will let me go. “Look, now that you know my name I swear I will contact you once I’m ready.”
His eyes flared, but he said nothing, just absorbed it, like even that small offering meant more than I understood. “I live in a tiny apartment in Lower Town,” I continued, swallowing hard. “It’s not pretty, and sure, it’s loud and smells like smoke most nights, but it’s mine.”
Still, he stared at me like none of it mattered, I started to get nervous with his silence.
“I work at The Rusty Tap, and yes, it’s a crappy dive bar, but the tips keep me afloat.
I pay my rent, I have to cover Rosemary’s half when she falls behind.
I’ve got a life out there, even if it’s not much. ”
I was trying so hard to sound calm, rational, in control. But my hands were shaking, my voice thin. “I’m not asking to disappear, I just need to go home. Just let me go back and think for a second. This is too much, you can’t expect me to just leave everything behind because you…”
“I can, and I did,” he cut in. “That little apartment you hate? The one you come home from work exhausted and scared in? It’s beneath you. You’ll never spend another night there. You belong where you’ll be protected. Safe with me.”
“Roman…”
“Layla” he growled my name low, warningly, “This isn’t a conversation, Layla. This is me claiming what’s mine and protecting it. You won’t work in some dive bar where drunk assholes leer at you. You won’t be running around this city vulnerable. You’re coming with me. Tonight.”
I pulled myself up straight, my spine met the wall again, breath shallow. It wasn’t just that he was intense. It was that everything in him screamed truth. He wasn’t bluffing. He wasn’t just flexing to impress me. He meant it.
“Please let me go home,” she whispered. “You can’t do this.”
He smiled, fangs gleaming. “No, baby. You’re already home.”