Chapter 41
M atteo’s house in Portsea was not what I expected. It had large glass doors looking out to the sea, with a modern kitchen, and a flat-screen TV and bookshelves full of books.
“You expected a castle?” he asked as I stared. “Or something more like a dungeon for a vampire’s lair?”
“I don’t know if it was quite that much, but it wasn’t this,” I said.
I bit at nothing again, another pang of hunger driving through me.
He squeezed my hand. “Don’t do that.”
I groaned. I sympathised with Matteo more, understanding the hunger he endured. For six hundred years, and I was struggling after a couple of days.
“It wasn’t always easy,” he whispered in my ear. “Having such a feral nature only made it more difficult. You will be yourself in a few days.”
Through our bond, even though he tried to hide it, I could feel his disappointment. He wanted me with him, like him. I wasn’t sure I could deal with hunger like this with no escape.
“Let me show you something.” He led me down a long hallway and opened a door at the end.
The room inside was huge. He’d led me into an art studio, filled with paintings.
“Woah, this must be everything you’ve ever painted.” I walked around, admiring each one individually. His method of painting had changed over the years. “You modernised,” I marvelled.
“I have a storage room under the house with more. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything I painted as a human. I did find some in a museum once. It was very exciting. My brother likely had involvement with that. But I’ve had centuries, and this was what helped calm my feral self.” He cast a look around the studio, pride evident on his face.
I noted many were of Venice. “You miss your home,” I commented, pointing.
He nodded. “I once terrorised the streets of Venice, a half-mad creature — and for that, Gabriela forbid me from returning. But Venice is a beautiful city and I dream of it often. It will always be my home.” His eyes filled with pain as he stared at a painting. I realised they were all of nightscapes.
I tried to imagine being banished from Melbourne, the city I’d called home my entire life. “I’m sorry.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “I hope she lets you return one day; no one should be exiled from their home.
I stopped at a painting of the Colosseum.
“Matteo, some of this could rival the best of them,” I said in awe.
His smile widened; then his smouldering eyes darted over me.
“I want to paint you,” he said.
“You already did.” I laughed. “Twice.”
“No.” He brushed locks of hair from my face, a look of hunger in his eyes. “I want to paint you. For my own…private collection.”
The tone he used on the word ‘private’ made me suspicious. “Why do I feel like you’re asking me to pose naked?” I asked.
His eyes skimmed down the length of my body with longing. “Because I am,” he said.
My heart skipped. “What if someone sees it?”
“No one will see it. Just you and me,” he promised.
I hesitated. “Can I think about it?”
His fingers brushed my neck. “Take all the time you need.”
I appreciated that he wasn’t pushing me into anything, but I felt excited by the idea as he led me from the studio.
We moved to a deck overlooking the beach, and he wrapped a blanket around us. The waves were soothing, as they always had been. Only a twinge of pain pulled at me, the loss of Niamh would never go away. That she’d returned in ghost form couldn’t change the fact that she was dead. I wondered if I should talk to mum and dad about her.
“Do you ever just sit out here and listen to the waves?” I asked. “I could get lost in that sound.”
“All the time.” He pulled me to sit on a wooden seat beside him. “I paint out here, too.”
I leaned against him, listening to his steady heartbeat.
“Do you like what you are?” I asked him.
He took a while to answer. “I’ve been a vampire too long to think of anything else. I was only a human for thirty years…I think it was thirty years. I never fought my nature or felt bitterness for being what I am.” He paused. “What I didn’t like is that it was forced on me. I was minding my own business, and my entire life was taken from me. I wouldn’t have made this choice for myself had I been thinking clearly.” He paused, and I caught a deep despair, thoughts of his wife in his mind. “Or that by killing the one who did this, I’d become so feral.”
He hated the word, I could feel it through my heart. He hated that his lack of control and darker nature separated him from other vampires. I touched his chest, wishing I could ease his self-loathing. Through our bond I felt a twinge of something else. His existence across time had not diminished the love of his wife, and regret that he had not been able to see his daughter grow up.
He twisted in his seat, intensity burning in his eyes. “Do you hate what I am?”
His question took me by surprise. “I did,” I admitted. “You terrified me. To learn that vampires are real was not something I ever would have imagined possible.”
He lifted my chin, gently. “Do I still scare you?”
“No,” I admitted. “I suppose I saw past the vampire. I see the man. I see you.”
“And?” He didn’t move, his gaze holding me captive again. “What do you see in that man?”
Feelings flooded in, and an understanding that there would be no other. My heart ached. For him. Only him. His touch set me on fire, his presence all-consuming. I sought the words to tell him. “I see a man I feel like I’ve known my entire life,” I whispered. “I don’t care that you’re a vampire, I want no one else. My heart is yours.”
His fingers brushed my cheek.
“I once loved a woman who gave me a child, and she will always have a place in my heart. But you have my whole heart, and had I died an old man, I would never have known you. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting go,” he asserted.
The longing in his eyes set off a blaze, hunger and need bursting within my chest. I wanted him more than I’d wanted any man before. As if he heard my desire, he picked me up and put me on his lap, the blanket falling from our shoulders. One hand holding the back of my head, his other pressed to my lower back. He pulled me in, his kiss rough, yet I could tell he was somewhat restraining himself. He struggled against the need to let go, afraid to break me, our bond wide open.
Straddling him, I cupped his face in my hands, just as ferocious.
His hand slid under my shirt and cupped my breast. His lips moved, trailing fire from my mouth across my jaw, his need telling me what he wanted. I tilted my head slightly, inviting him to bite me, and his fangs pierced my throat. I could feel him drinking, and his contentment at having me in his arms. A deep protectiveness enveloped me, coming from him, and a feeling of belonging, and growing satisfaction from my blood. I thought I could feel the blood bond winding its way around us, tighter. Floating on euphoria, I was disappointed when he withdrew, returning to kissing me again.
I wanted my hands on him, but his tee-shirt was in the way. He pulled back, yanking it off in one smooth movement before pulling mine from me. He rose from the bench, and I locked my legs around his waist.
“Wait,” he said. “Give me a moment.”
I let him dislodge from me and watched as he lowered the blanket to the ground, before disappearing. When he returned, he had pillows and added them to the blanket. He lowered himself, grasping my hand and pulling me with him. “Lie down,” he whispered. “Let me look at you. At what I have claimed for mine.”
I lay on my back. He pulled my skirt away, kneeling over me. I tried not to shiver in the cold.
“Are you real?” He asked in wonder, his hands on my body. “How did I chance to lay eyes on such a goddess?”
He nuzzled my breasts, his searing lips trailing down towards my navel. I ran my fingers through his silky hair, barely able to believe he was real either. He lifted his head, fangs glinting. “I’m going to bite you somewhere else,” he said.
I closed my eyes, and his breath warmed my inner thigh a moment before his fangs sunk in. I gasped, a shudder tearing its way through me. The sound I made was loud and agonising as a wave of desire and elation hit me, replacing my hunger. He shifted slightly, and his mouth pressed against my heat, hands on my waist. He licked, sucked and nibbled, sending heat through me. His tongue was persistent, unrelenting, only to stop when his lips pressed down, soft and teasing. I groaned, desperate for the stroke of his tongue. He rewarded me, pushing me towards ecstasy, his eyes never leaving mine.
His fangs scraped my flesh, and I wondered if he was going to bite me again.
‘Do you want me to?’ His voice was in my head.
I nodded, unable to speak, and a second later, I felt his canines sink in again. My entire body tensed, core clenching, and my hips rocked. More! I ground myself hard against his mouth, hands on the back of his head, holding him there. The feel of his tongue as he licked drove shudders through me. Wrapped in pleasure, heat curled around my spine. My back arched, and I tilted my head back, screaming as my orgasm hit me. Then his mouth was against mine again, tender at first, then hungry. I clung to him as my body was racked by deep shivers.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped. “That was…” I couldn’t finish the sentence as he thrust deep and fast, entering me with a possessiveness. Still shaking, I dug my nails into his back as he drove into me with a roughness I had never experienced before. His name fell from my lips as I wrapped my legs around his waist. His fangs pierced my throat, and I let his hair run through my fingers as he drank from me and drove me towards another orgasm.