Forty-Five
G rim finality loomed over the manor, skies turning streaked with clouds, gray and heavy. Exhaustion weighed on me and my companions. The entire ride was silent.
I had told Sinclair that Dixon promised to help, and when Séra appeared, insisting she’d never been far, they looked to each other, and something passed between them. Sinclair ushered us back into the car, parked a few blocks away, the driver waiting.
And when we returned, Vince was watching us come up the drive. His eyes met mine through the window, and he was there before I could step out, opening the door and offering a hand.
He whisked me away upstairs, where we fell into each other, and as he kissed me, I couldn’t help but feel like he did this as though it were the last time. As though he expected a terrible outcome. His lips lingered on mine, savoring the feel of us together. Holding me close, he gazed at every inch of me, hands tracing every curve of my hips, my breasts. Giving me pleasure and memorizing every detail.
We did that all afternoon, and when I was sore and spent, he rolled off of me and ran his fingers through my hair, down my sides, lazily stroking and sending goosebumps across my flesh.
We lay facing each other, a sheen of sweat on my skin, his long hair mussed and ruined. Even then, he studied me, running a finger over my lips, caressing my cheek.
“I ran into Dixon today,” I said quietly, afraid to disrupt the calm silence we’d settled into.
His fingers paused before resuming their ministrations, a muscle in his cheek flexing, but he said nothing.
“He’s going to help.”
Vince nodded.
“He told me about his coven. The conflict with… Andreas’.” I almost said, “yours,” but realized how much of a mistake that would be. It was not Vince’s coven. He had left, for a reason, even if he didn’t tell me the whole of it. “He will be at the party.”
“I suppose another set of hands is a good idea,” he acquiesced.
How many we had on our “side,” I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure how many of his Made Vince was calling in tonight, how many of those vampires at the last bloodletting would return—or if it was just Sinclair, Séra, and Veronica.
And if I wasn’t here, I couldn’t help, even if my help was feeble.
Vince pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me, so our chests met. He buried his face in my neck, his nose drawing circles on my throat, placing kisses at that spot under my ear. And though we’d made love already, his touch sent excitement through my veins .
I buried a hand in his hair, holding him to me.
“You should feed,” I whispered. It had been a few days since the last time, and he hadn’t asked since then.
He shook his head against me, but didn’t pull away, breathing in deeply the scent of my flesh, right where my heartbeat pulsed against my skin.
I pressed him again. “ Pleas e.”
With a groan, he gave in, his tongue lapping at my throat, sending shivers down my spine, before he sucked on my skin, drawing it into his mouth. His sharp teeth grazed the sensitive spot, and I shut my eyes, loosing a sigh. He groaned, and his hunger took over, his teeth piercing my skin, drawing a cry from me. I arched against him, tugging on his hair as he drew my blood into him.
I no longer felt fear when I had the mouth of a monster at my neck; a different sort of ecstasy, not unlike the first time you make love, filled me, knowing the line between the pain and pleasure was paper-thin. A nervousness that was exciting, a pleasure knowing you gave pleasure.
He clung to me, his arms tightening around my waist. His arousal grew hard against me, and I hitched a leg over his hip, wanting him closer, wanting him to take all of me, again and again, until there was nothing left.
I sighed as my vision grew fuzzy. It was a gratifying lightheadedness, feeling lighter, like I was floating, and growing slick between my thighs. I didn’t know what it was about the bite that made me lust for him. Perhaps an effect of the saliva he used to heal .
When he pulled away, his lips dark with my blood, his pupils had grown, his predatory vampire instincts on alert, and he was kissing me again, the tangy iron of my blood on my tongue, tasting myself on him.
He eased himself into me, my core ready for him, the muscles sore but wanting. He slid home with ease until our hips were against each other. I groaned at the feel of him in me, stretching me again, the way our bodies fit so perfectly. I ached, my body tired, almost limp against the silky sheets after his feeding.
He held my thigh at his hip and began to thrust with a frenzy, his other fist tangled in my hair, holding me to the bed. I had no energy to do anything but feel, to bask in him.
“You belong to me,” he whispered, falling over me, spreading my legs wider.
I moaned as his thrusts turned to a grinding, his cock nudging against the spot that drew the most pleasure. In moments, I was panting, yearning for air, my climax barreling toward its peak before I could stop it. I came shuddering against him, my muscles clenching around him, and he groaned in approval, thrusting deeply, harshly.
He spilled his seed inside me a few moments later, exhaling harshly against my ear, his hips stilling as his cock twitched inside of me. My legs tightened around his waist, ankles hooking to hold him there.
He pushed the hair out of my face, kissing me once more. Our lips crashed together, my tongue warring with his, until he wrenched away from me, his fangs sharp and glinting in the low light. He teased my ear with his tongue, drawing another sigh from me .
I felt his teeth graze against my pulse again, the spot that had already healed, and a thrill shot through me, the urge to hold him there, urge him to take more, more. Take all of me.
“Loving you has been the greatest torture,” he breathed, “and my greatest feat.” He sucked on the sensitive skin on my neck before groaning and grinding into me once more. My back arched off the bed.
“And you will have an eternity to do it,” I sighed.
He hummed, and when he pulled away from me, leaving me empty, I saw in his eyes that this had been his goodbye.