Chapter 27

A fter we had eaten, Matteo took me to his gallery, leading me to the little dark corner where his art was on display. Our footsteps echoed around the empty room. He hadn’t turned all the lights on, so the low light made the empty gallery a little eerie. I stared at the painting of me.

“I’m curious, how did you paint this so fast?” I asked.

“I was struggling, and Carlos thought to bring me paints. Painting helps calm me. The only thing that I felt inspired enough to paint was this.”

“Carlos said something that night. That it helped you, painting this,” I was gentle with my question, hoping this wasn’t too personal.

He kissed the back of my hand again, his warm lips sending shivers through me. “I faced punishment for my actions, for killing two people. We’re not supposed to kill. It was not an easy punishment. Yes, painting you helped.”

I wanted to ask what the punishment was.

“Starvation,” he answered my unasked question. “Three days, chained to a wall, with no blood. Carlos sat with me through all of it. I hope you never see me like that.”

I pointed to where it looked like there was a glow around me. “Am I glowing?”

“That’s the fire I saw in you. When I saw you singing, you looked so alive, so in tune with who you were, but there was a yearning in you.”

“A yearning?” Those dark eyes were locked on to mine, and once again, I was trapped in his gaze. My heart thudded loudly in my ears, which I knew he could hear.

“You wanted more.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “You called me into your life, Quinn, and I’m here to stay.”

I held my breath, hopeful for a repeat of that last kiss. It felt like an eternity of us not moving, before one hand finally slid around me, pressing into my lower back, his other reaching up towards my face. His fingers were gentle, caressing my cheek, barely brushing me, but enough to make me shiver. Then he pulled me to him, his kiss intense, hungry. In that moment, all that mattered was that I was aching for him and craved more. So much more. My hands slid across his body, heat twisting around my core.

“I want to taste you,” he said when we pulled apart. I couldn’t move as he leaned in again, this time towards my throat .

“Please, don’t,” I whispered, my fear returning.

He didn’t react, only drew closer, his breath warm against the base of my throat, hand grasping the back of my neck. My stomach flipped. I knew I wasn’t putting up enough resistance to him, and for a horrifying moment, I wondered if I wanted his ‘vampire’s kiss,’ as he liked to call it. Did I call you into my life? Why weren’t you here earlier? The urge to lift my head slightly, to expose my throat to him was unbearable, but I dared not move. I was playing with fire, and instead of that terrifying me as it should, a tiny voice inside me told me I should enjoy it.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he asserted. “Not yet. You have to ask me for that, and you will. You’ll be begging for it.”

Instead, he licked my throat, starting at the base, ending just below my ear, sending a deep tremor through my entire body. I gasped. Satisfaction rumbled from him, reverberating through me. I clutched his arms, not entirely trusting that my legs wouldn’t give out. As if he could sense the weakness in my knees, he lifted me in his arms.

I barely blinked, and we were in his office. He laid me on his couch. He lit some candles, a soft yellow glow filling the room. He turned to face me, and his eyes were shadowed in darkness. Flames cast an eerie glow over the planes of his face. Warm, I took off his jacket. His smooth movements reminded me of a jungle cat. He pinned my body under his on the couch and kissed my throat, his lips soft, moving up over my jaw.

“There’s that lust again,” he said, his voice husky. “Perhaps you want me to taste you down there.”

He moved down, his fingers pressing against me through my jeans. I couldn’t form the word to say ‘no,’ not that I wanted to. His hands stilled on my zipper, his eyes on my face, as if waiting. It took too long to realise he was waiting for my permission. I gave a slight nod, and his eyes flashed red as he gave me a wicked grin. He took his time to remove my jeans, eyes never leaving mine.

He lifted my shirt and placed soft kisses on my stomach, his hands grasping my waist. I squirmed, already wet, wanting his mouth on me. His kisses moved south painfully slowly, leaving my skin on fire. He took time to nuzzle my inner thighs and parted my legs. His eyes took me in before he finally moved to where I wanted his mouth. I moaned as he ran his tongue over my clit, swirling, moving it up and down, gazing at me the whole time.

‘ How do you like it? ’ his voice was inside my head.

“Harder,” I whispered. “Faster.”

He obliged my requests, and I couldn’t look away from his face between my legs. Shivers of pleasure ran through me and I grasped the back of his head, lifting my hips slightly. His earlier comments of having six hundred years of experience seducing women ran through my mind.

Tiny spasms started to run through my body, and I gripped the couch, chasing the pleasure from the feel of his tongue. My back arched. Amusement shone through his eyes as I clenched my legs against his head. My breathing was somewhat ragged, and my orgasm hit me hard. My vision dimmed, and I wasn’t completely sure I hadn’t blacked out. I was still trembling when Matteo crawled up my body, pinning me to the couch. We lay still as I struggled to catch my breath, his hand brushing my face and hair. The contact helped ground me as I clutched him to me, trying to calm the deep shivers .

“I like hearing you scream my name,” he whispered in my ear.

I scoffed. “Please. I’m not a screamer.” Had I screamed?

His slow smile widened. “You weren’t before, but you are now. Perhaps your human men haven’t done it right.”

His erection was pressing into me through his jeans, and I ground myself against him, unable to control myself. He moved in a way that revealed his own lust, shifting against me. He buried his face in my neck, and his mouth opened. I tensed, half-expecting him to bite me. A deep shudder passed through him, followed by a growl. I reached for his face, lifting it towards mine. I ran my hands over the rough stubble.

“Your turn,” I whispered, reaching down for his jeans.

As he slid down his trousers, I moved from the couch. He sat down, his arms across the back. Kneeling before him, I licked the length of his shaft before drawing it into my mouth. With one hand on his hip, the other at the base, I swirled my tongue over his head. He groaned, leaning his head back. When he looked down at me again, his eyes were heated, red.

“Keep going,” he groaned. “Take all of me.”

I moved my hand from his base, and his hips’ movement was subtle with my motion. He hit the back of my throat, and I fought against my gag reflexes.

His movements became more fluid as he chased his own pleasure. His hand reached forward, flexing through my hair. “That’s it,” he growled. “I’m close.”

His breathing became ragged. I moaned around him, my own arousal spiking again as I watched him. Small twitches passed through his body as he held my gaze. His hand gripped the back of my head. He grunted, and warm liquid splashed the back of my throat. I swallowed. He pulled me up onto the couch again, pinning me beneath him. His lips crushed against mine, and he pulled back, pushing hair off my face.

I felt brave as I gazed into his eyes, then to his mouth.

“Show me,” I said.

His fangs slid down, indenting his bottom lip. With a finger I pulled back his top lip, the canine longer than I remembered. He held very still, so I moved slowly, pressing my thumb against the fang. Shock sparked in his eyes. I pulled him down for another kiss, knowing that I had fallen hard and that there was not a damn thing I could do about it.

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