Chapter 42
W e’d lain in bed all day, and I couldn’t have been happier. I just wanted to look at him, have his arms around me.
“How’s your hunger?” His voice burst through my calm state.
I grunted, not wanting to talk or think about it.
“Is it worsening or improving?” He probed his fingers between my lips, examining my teeth.
“How do you live like this?” I asked for probably the hundredth time. I’d dreamed of blood again, the need deeper than it had been to find a release from the pain of hunger.
He removed his fingers, drawing me to him, in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry I did this to you. Is it any easier without the sound of heartbeats surrounding you?”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I breathed in, his scent a comfort. “It is a little easier without so many heartbeats, and their smell. Plus, you distract me from it,” I admitted. “Your bite, the sex, it’s enough to overpower everything for a short time. Even hunger.” I slid my hands over his bare chest. “I’ve never spent this long naked.” Not that I was complaining.
Overcome by the urge to, I leaned in, pressing soft kisses across his throat. He shivered.
“I do like having your lips there,” he murmured. “But be careful that it’s not hunger driving you for that.” My stomach rumbled, and he laughed. “Looks like your appetite has kicked in again. Good, I was wondering when that would happen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He moved away, climbing out of bed. “When was the last time you ate food? Human food?”
My mind went blank. “Um.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Chocolate cake, a couple of days ago. You should probably eat.”
I sat up. It felt like a lifetime ago. Had I really gone that long without eating food? I hadn’t been hungry until now. “Do you have food here?” I asked.
“A fully stocked kitchen. Cook to your heart’s content,” he said. “I’m going to be painting.” He winked at me. “I’m feeling inspired.”
“Does that mean I have to put clothes on?” I half-joked, climbing out of bed.
“Now that’s an image I’m going to take with me to the studio.” His eyes raked down my body slowly, the glint of desire there. “Not if you don’t want to. But do you really want to be in the kitchen naked?”
I dressed, then made my way to the kitchen. I’d brought my laptop, so I opened it up to play music while I cooked. It was a recording I’d made the year before with Lilith and Mia. Before Niamh’s death, and I had not yet known the grief I did only weeks later when her body was found.
Unable to contain myself, I sang along, dancing around the kitchen. Bursting with joy, I let my voice go, belting out the words, glad to not have neighbours close enough to worry about. I had a vampire who adored me, and for whatever reason, I had brought him to me; I wanted to hold on to him as long as I could. The idea that I had any power over a vampire almost made me laugh. I wanted to tell him he could paint me naked. I hoped he’d come in so I could.
Matteo appeared at the door, his expression similar to that of the one he wore the day we met. He moved towards me, stopping just in front of me. Frozen in place, he stared, unblinking.
I stopped singing. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
He didn’t move.
“Matteo?” I stopped the music. “What are you doing?”
His stillness sent a chill down my spine.
“Matteo,” I whispered. “Stop that, you’re scaring me.” I pushed at him, willing for him to respond to me.
He came out of his trance, blinking. He turned, looking around the kitchen as if unsure how he’d got there.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“I-” He frowned. “Did you call me?”
His confusion reached me through our bond. “No? Are you taking the piss? ”
His face went blank. “Taking the piss?”
I tried not to laugh. “Mucking around? Joking?” I put a hand on his arm. “What happened, Matteo?”
He glanced around the kitchen again, and the paintbrush in his hand. “I don’t know. I was in the studio, then I wasn’t. I heard you, just as I had the first night we met. Only this time, it felt almost forceful.” The confusion in his eyes changed to a look I didn’t understand. Fear?
“Are you drunk?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Have you been breathing in too much of those paint fumes?”
“We only get intoxicated on blood, and I haven’t had enough for that,” he clarified.
Uneasy, I sought to change the subject. “So, I’m okay if you want to paint me,” I said. “Naked.”
His eyes flashed red. “Then after you’ve eaten, join me in the studio,” he instructed, and he was gone.
After breakfast, I found my way to his studio, nervous. “Matteo?”
“Come in,” he called out. “I’m getting a new canvas ready.”
I walked in to find that he’d set up a leather seat in the middle of the room. Candles were burning, spread around to create romantic lighting.
“I have wine to calm your nerves,” he said. “Or I can calm you myself.”
I reached for the wine and turned to face Matteo, to find him stark naked.
“Um,” I stared. “You’re…”
“Naked? Of course, you can’t expect I’d be the only one to have fun during this, did you? I thought I’d give you something to look at.” He gave me his mischievous grin. “Take your clothes off when you’re ready.”
I unbuttoned my shirt and let it drop to the ground before removing my jeans and panties. Last, I removed my bra. He guided me to the seat.
“Sit down,” he said, and moved my body until he was happy with the pose. “Are you comfortable?” he asked. “Are you warm enough?”
“I’m okay.” I felt a little awkward. “It’s not cold in here.”
“Good. I have one more thing.” He moved towards the corner of the room before returning with a mic. “Hold this, my little cantante .”
He handed the mic to me.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “You keep calling me that, I hope it’s nothing bad.”
He smiled. “My little singer.”
Every now and again, he stopped painting to ensure I was comfortable. I remained still, with my eyes locked on his, trying not to look at his cock. If I’d done that, I would have wanted him. When his eyes turned red, I knew he was painting my throat.
“Perhaps you’d like a drink.” I said, feeling brave .
In a blur, he was in front of me and leaned over. “Is that what you want?” He asked in my ear. “You’re awfully brave, offering your throat to a vampire.” He let out a deep growl, and I found myself wanting him to bite me.
“You’re aroused,” he said, flashing fangs as he leaned in close to my throat, taking in a deep breath. “Oh, Quinn, you smell divine.” He lowered his finger to my clit, circling it, before pushing two inside of me. “So wet, for me.” His voice had become guttural, and I clenched around his fingers. I moaned, opening myself up to him. All I needed now was to have his mouth on my throat. Feel his fangs pierce me. “You desire my bite now.” His voice made my stomach flip.
I was in a position where one hand was on the microphone, the other behind me, my whole body open to him, so I had no way to stop him if I wanted to. I shivered as he licked my throat, and I moaned with need. I held myself still, waiting.
“Ask me to bite you,” he ordered, his fingers still sending waves of pleasure through me. “Beg me for it.”
“Please.” I met his eyes.
“How much do you need my bite?” he asked, a glimmer of hunger shifting over his face.
“I need it,” I gasped. “Matteo, you’re driving me mad. Please.”
“I told you you’d be begging,” he growled.
I waited, holding my breath, hopeful he’d stop tormenting me.
His lips touched my throat, and I whimpered, dropping the mic to hold the back of his head. As his fangs sunk in, warmth spread across my chest and another moan escaped.
I sighed with relief, letting the effects of his bite take me flying .
‘ Your excitement for my ‘vampire’s kiss’ warms me, ’ he whispered in my mind. ‘ I do like hearing you beg. It’s as intoxicating as your blood.’
He shifted me around and pinned me under his body, his fingers gone from me, leaving me empty.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he said, licking my wetness from his fingers. “Over six hundred years and I’ve never wanted anything more.”
His words left me speechless. I ached to have him inside me, and he responded to my voiceless desire. I clung to him as he entered me slowly. His thrusts started relaxed, and he held my gaze. He seemed to sense when I needed him to go faster and quickened his rhythm. It was just the two of us, our bodies slamming against each other; and in that moment, there was nothing else I wanted.
He filled me, his movements hitting pleasure with each thrust. I bit his shoulder to try to hold back the scream, my body shaking as my climax surged through me. He came, tensing, his eyes rolling back. The groan that he let out pierced me to my core. He pulled out and simply held me, soft kisses blazing over my cheeks, eyes, and lips. Drowsy, I closed my eyes and felt him lift me into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I could barely form words.
“I’ve worn you out. We can finish the painting later.” His voice sounded far away.
He lay me on the soft satin sheets in his bed, pulling his doona over me.
“Don’t go,” I pleaded, reaching out for him, my eyes still closed.
His body pressed in against mine as he climbed in. “I’m not going anywhere, mi amore . Rest, you need it.”
I lay my head on his chest, and his hand rested on my back. I let sleep pull me under.