Chapter 26
26
Ramone
At a loss for what to do and having made a last-minute decision, I guided Samantha away from the castle. We were back in the woods as quickly as I could get us there, forcing her to nearly run. All I could think about was the spell I’d performed was somehow weakened and that the curse must be responsible.
I wanted to take Samantha away from everything, provide her with safe haven, but there was nowhere left in which to do so with absolute confidence. There were no guarantees she’d be unmolested, and if that was the result of my having claimed her, I’d be the only one to do any molesting.
It was clear a million questions ran through her head; however, I didn’t have the answers she sought. She stayed quiet as we traced our path under the dying trees, and I would’ve given anything to be able to get inside her head as many of my kind were able to do with others.
That was one gift I did not possess, reading others’ thoughts—I could only send impressions to compel them to do my bidding. Reading would’ve come in handy, but I had to rely on instincts and observation. A lot could be revealed through auras, but not enough.
“You told Ammar he was dead.” Samantha broke the silence.
“He was,” I grunted. Her beautiful blue eyes looked up at me expectantly. “I thought,” I remarked.
“Then how is he here?”
I pulled my hand away from hers. “No one ever dies, not as you would imagine it. They go somewhere else. Somewhere out of reach. It is also possible that Ammar was critically injured and managed to survive.”
“Is that a problem?”
Samantha was staring at her feet when I answered. “That remains to be seen.”
“What, really, is going on?”
Letting out a breath, I said, “That is a question for another time.” There was no way to answer her while I was figuring things out myself. Plus, the sun was setting. It’d be dark in a moment, and we needed to get back to the cottage. I didn’t want to take us back while we were in the middle of the forest and exposed. There were too many variables and possible hazards when what was supposed to be clandestine and guarded, was not. It was bad enough the crystal I held in my hand was the equivalent of a homing device. I needed time to think and strategize.
We were plunged into darkness in seconds. The normally bright stars were muted, and the full moon dimmed. Samantha’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound I heard while I rushed her up the steps and hurried her into the small house.
“Is that normal here?” she asked, in response to the near-instantaneous nightfall.
Taking Samantha’s arm, I drew her against me, the feel of her small body an immediate comfort. “No, it's speeding up,” I said without further explanation as I slid a hand down her arms to grab her wrists with my free hand. “We’re leaving now.” The bottle of wine was pressed between us, interfering with the full body contact I wanted with her.
There was a brief moment where I thought I’d lose her; the normal ease of transition having felt different. There was a pulling away, a roughness, that I’d never encountered before. It was alarming. These were problems I’d never encountered and didn’t possess the solutions or answers for. I was slowly being rendered useless, powerless. It was terrifying.
My grip on Samantha slipped the moment we appeared back in her bedroom as I stopped the scrying glass from crashing to the floor. She fell against her bed and sat down, a bewildered expression crossing her features as she set the bottle down.
The crystal ball in my hands appeared dim, the ether once floating inside the sphere vanished immediately when there should’ve been a seed I could detect. Often, magic didn’t work the same way here in the Third Realm and had to be invited so I tried not to let the absence alarm me. This wasn’t a tool I’d ever used, or deigned to use; I merely hoped the lack wasn’t indictive of my growing problems.
Ammar may have stated he had no intentions toward Samantha, but I didn’t trust him. He’d died during the same battle that killed my wife. Or so I thought. That war had been messy, with beings from multiple different realms vying for power. Many different versions of events were espoused but ultimately, the fight was for freedom. Nobody enjoyed being told what to do—least of all me.
As my father’s son, I was mostly free to do whatever I wanted and generally, I did. When Julian was gone, I was to take his place, ruling over the demons and human inhabitants of the Second and Third Realms. I wanted the extra power my birthright afforded; no one would be able to kill me.
In times past, the position meant instigating wars, encouraging debauchery, and reveling in the destruction and entertainment that ensued, contributing to our sustenance. As humans evolved, multiplying more than ever before, that became more difficult and alternate means of feeding off humans’ sin was employed. This led to the company that Ilya helped me build, which in turn led to a more peaceful and convenient existence for all.
And to us becoming lazy—and to taking humans as lovers versus solely engaging in relationships with our own kind. In addition to generally being more attractive, human women tasted better, were more fulfilling, and infinitely more fun with a vast range of emotions to prey upon.
The same spiritual connection was never present with our own females. My relationship with Samara, while wonderful by demon standards, never compelled me in the same way the cyan-eyed creature staring at me from her bedside did.
My father’s threat hung over my head. It was true I’d failed with Kiara, letting the magic source go. She’d died anyway; without the benefit of extracting her wellspring of sorcery, and I’d deprived Ilya of a woman he’d claimed and who had been promised to him since birth. The only thing I could think of was she’d been intended for the use of joining together Lucian’s and Victor’s kingdoms through marriage. I’d never spoken to Ilya about it, having no interest in the affairs of the two symbolic kings.
Politics was more Stefan’s field than mine, seeing as he’d been a councilman for Lucian and highly educated in the appropriate subjects. He reveled in the games people played while I enjoyed a more physical touch.
I’d spent the last several hundred years since my wife’s death either sequestered in one of my homes or in a blind rage taking out my vengeance by wreaking havoc on unsuspecting humans. Until Kiara’s birth—when I found my focus and took her away from those who’d murdered Samara.
Julian demanded I find another source knowing full well it was a fool’s mission. It would be hundreds of years before another was born and only if the universe decided one should be.
“Ramone? Are you okay?” Samantha remained where she was, seated on the edge of the bed, looking at me imploringly.
I couldn’t leave her. I wouldn’t. Now that I had her almost where I wanted, there was no question as to whether I’d let her go. There never had been, rather, the instinct to force her by my side grew even stronger. “Yes,” I ground out, gritting my teeth.
She moved as if to get up and then changed her mind. “You don’t look all right.”
Her aura was still dimmed, and the weight of the sight pressed down on my heart. I didn’t know how to fix her spirit or address the muted essence of her soul. Carefully placing the glass sphere on her dresser, I approached the bed. “Everything will be all right,” I said, not trusting my own words. I grabbed the bottle from her and set it beside the ball.
“Can we talk about what happened?” She gazed up at me. “Please tell me more about that place. How are you able to do that?”
Her fear, while not overwhelming, scented the air while her hands trembled slightly. She attempted to disguise the shaking, wringing her hands and then tucking them under her thighs. There was no way to tell her I wasn’t human, not without terrifying her utterly, and destroying any discussion on the matter. If this was going to work, I had to let her know. But not right now. First, I needed to claim her in every way.
She was so beautiful. Her tiny human form, balanced on the edge of the mattress, bright shining eyes peering up at me, waiting to see what was next. She wanted to trust me; it was obvious.
Stepping directly in front of her, I nudged her legs apart. “I think I’ll show you instead.” Her lips parted a fraction of an inch, and her fragrance filled my senses, the deep heady scent of the blood-red flowers I’d associated with her. Samantha was my entire universe and she always would be.
The air around her glittered, the tiny golden specks of light I could see brightening when I leaned down, caging her and dragging my finger along the top of her breast. She fell back on her elbows, her chest raised like an offering to a god when I climbed onto the bed. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low and breathy.
She knew exactly what I was doing, I could now smell her arousal. She more than knew, and her body was primed. “Precisely what you want, what you’re asking for from me.”
I guided her farther back onto the bed, copying the position she was in when I damned her to the cottage. As I predicted, a hint of fear entered the atmosphere. My cock swelled from the tang in the air, her trepidation filling my blood and urging me to plunge deep inside her. Her hands came up, pressing against my chest as I stretched over her.
Of course, her feigned protests were useless. Straightening, I kneeled over her legs and tore my vest off, tossing it onto the bed. She wiggled underneath me a little when I began to unbutton my shirt while I stared down at her, enjoying the battle of emotions reflected in her gaze.
Every now and then I would come across a human who eventually realized I was other. Samantha was one of them, and this was her moment. She’d either accept I don’t wear contact lenses, or she would feel the minute changes in the air and stop lying to herself, stop comforting her psyche with the tiny half-truths and falsehoods that her kind used to make it through their day. She’d known she wasn’t dreaming, earlier. She just wouldn’t admit it to herself. She was a fighter, but mostly against herself. I’d have to help her change that misdirection.
Samantha’s gaze was torn between watching me remove my shirt and ogling my tattoos, all while trying not to stare at my bright emerald eyes. Neither my ink nor my irises were from her world and her gaze widened when my shirt was discarded. The fragrance of her lust, combined with the flowers, enflamed me. It was all I could do not to rip her from the bed and inhale her completely, ending her mortal life.
I watched as she moistened her lips with her tongue, her nervousness still on full display. She stayed quiet, the soft hiss of her ragged breath the only sound. She didn’t need to say a word, I knew what she wanted. Slowly, I removed my belt, the thought crossing my mind to strap it around her neck. That could wait for another time; there was so much I wanted to do for her—and to her.
Before leaning down over her again, I removed the tie from my hair, remembering her physical response to the touch of it against her skin. I paused a few seconds, looking down into her expectant gaze, marveling at the fact I finally had her where I wanted her—completely at my mercy.
“Ramone,” she finally squeaked out. “What are we doing?”
Grinning, I answered, “Ruining you for anyone else.” As if I’d let anyone else breath the same air as her.
I swept my head down, capturing her lips with my own. Samantha placed a hand on my shoulder, her nails grating at my flesh when I thrust my tongue in her mouth. Wrapping my hand around the back of her head, I fisted my fingers in her hair, pulling her head back against her pillow.
The look on her face was priceless, with her eyes blown wide with surprise. Chuckling, I released her and dragged her shirt over her head before popping open the clip on the front of her bra.
Her bare chest was perfect, just as I’d imagined, her creamy mounds tipped with light pink buds. I slid a hand over one breast and then down her ribcage to grab her hipbone, sinking my fingers into her flesh while I took the other in my mouth. Flicking my tongue against her hardened nipple, I elicited soft cries of pleasure from the goddess in my arms. When I sank my teeth in, she groaned and lifted her hips, seeking the pleasure she’d get only from me.
Taking her mouth with my own again, I reached for her pants and pulled them down. Samantha clasped her arms around my neck, lifting herself as I pulled them from her ankles.
I laid her back down gently and straddled her. Tentatively, she stretched a finger toward one of the sparkling tattoos on my chest and I held my breath. It’d been a long time since I’d let anyone touch my skin in this way, flesh against flesh. I’d dreamed of this moment since the first time I saw her, the day I’d drink from her, consume her, leave my mark on her and render her helpless and unable to bear the touch or thought of another man.
The scent of her arousal filled the room and her pussy glistened in the dim lighting, her moisture seeping between her swollen lips. She needed me as much as I needed her. I plunged a finger inside and her tight walls contracted around me as I pumped in and out, before adding a second. She clung to me, whispering my name like a prayer, angling her hips, desperate for more. I returned my attention to kissing and licking every square inch of her feather-soft skin while my senses began drowning under the assault. The fragrance of the woman I held, the sparkling veil around her, the very ether surrounding us pulled at me, requiring more. My spirit wanted more than just the taste of her skin.
Samantha did too, moving her lips away. “Ramone,” she begged. “Please.” Her little hand darted to my waistband, and I didn’t stop her. Her nails scraped through the bit of hair below the band as she tugged at my pants.
I nudged her back down, pressing my face against her chest, while I removed the rest of my clothing. Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she caressed my cheek as I raised myself, positioning my cock at her entrance. I let the head rest right between her lips, the heat of her core compelling me to tear into her, but I refrained. I held back as she squirmed, wriggling her hips back and forth. A soft whine slipped past her parted lips.
Her pupils were blown wide, her skin flushed, and I’d never seen her more beautiful than at this very moment, desperate for my cock. “Wait,” I told her. “Remember I said I would show you what I was?” I needed this closeness, the necessity to fully bond with her could no longer be held off.
Samantha blinked, lost in a haze of lust, and whimpered. I slid over her, notching a leg between hers before I rolled us onto our sides. My heart thudded in my chest. I was dancing with fire, but nothing was going to stop me.
My hand encircled her nape as I brought my lips to the other side of her neck and inhaled. My eyes shuttered as I breathed her in, the delicate taste of her tracing a course across my tongue and through my mouth. Every cell of my body lit with joy, the chemical reaction sending ecstasy through my veins. As her energy flew through my body, it joined my own. I felt her shudder in pleasure below me when I breathed it back, feeling the goosebumps skitter across her skin. My hand trailed down, reaching between her legs to rub her clit as I began entering her. She tensed in reaction to my supping on the very thing tethering her to her body, the sensation of bliss from my physical and spiritual joining with her.
She grew wetter and wetter as I pushed inside her, the heat of her pussy wrapping a vise grip around me. When I was fully sheathed, she cried out, the strangled sound a mix of pain and pleasure. Her fingernails gripped my back as I began thrusting my hips, sending heat down my back when they broke the skin.
Alternating between her lips and her neck, I licked and sucked, bit and drank. Her delicious nectar slid down my throat and coated my tongue with a sweetness that drove me to the brink of madness as I pounded into her.
Samantha lifted her hips meeting me thrust for thrust until she began slowing her movements. Her arms edged down, losing their hold. “Ramone... Oh God. I can’t.” Her back arched as her pussy convulsed and contracted around my cock, her eyes rolling back in her head when she screamed her release, my name on her tongue.
Slowing my movement, I gripped her chin and plunged my tongue between her lips before pulling back and impaling her with my cock again. She was still in her throes of ecstasy when I grabbed her roughly and sat back on my heels. Holding her by her waist, I pounded my thick cock into her over and over again, while she clung to me. Her chest and lower neck bore the beginning of bruises. I noted the marks I’d left on her, and a feeling of satisfaction washed over me. Heat gathered at the base of my spine, my balls tightening, and I began spilling into her as I clamped onto her collarbone with my teeth.
A buzzing sound entered my ears, and the world went white as I shook with the force of my release. It didn’t seem as if it would ever end but finally, I was spent, and I let go of her. Samantha laid back, exhaustion rolling through her body.
My ears were still ringing when I laid down and drew her across my torso, tangling my fingers in her hair to keep her resting on my chest whether she wanted to or not. It wasn’t lost on me that with how much I drained her, she should’ve stopped breathing several minutes ago. She must’ve heard and felt my heart hammering a frenetic beat under my skin. If she did, she didn’t say a word.