CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT || JEREMY
W e spent the next day in bed together. We watched some of our favorite shows, ordered delivery from a Thai place down the street that Thierry swore was one of the best in the city, and made love until we were both sweaty messes.
Later, while browsing a streaming service on his laptop, I discovered my vampire liked romantic comedies.
He tried to hide it, of course. But when I paused on a Hallmark-style holiday rom-com, I felt his interest through the bond, even as he tried to tamp it down.
“Really?” I asked, smirking. “A big, scary vampire like you with a secret soft spot?”
“I don’t judge your love of documentaries.”
“You like reality television,” I countered. “And I’m not judging that either. But this is just… adorable.”
He threw a pillow at me.
I ducked it, grinning. Then I made us watch three rom-coms back-to-back.
“Are wolves always so sappy?” Thierry sniffed hours later, though his eyes were wetter than they ought to have been. It turned out he liked happily-ever-afters. “It’s quite unseemly, you know.”
I laughed. “Yes, actually. We’re emotional creatures. But I’m a man first and a wolf second.”
“I—I am, too,” he said softly. “A man first, a vampire second.”
I cupped his face, stroking my thumb across his cheek, affection burning through me and dispelling the last of my doubt. “Yeah, I know.”
“May I make a confession?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know if I ever want to leave this bed,” Thierry admitted, his voice oddly intent. His eyes searched mine. “Because if I do, it means the rest of the world still exists.”
“It does have a tendency to do that,” I said solemnly.
“Tell Reed you didn’t mean it,” Thierry pressed, unease bleeding through the bond. “Go back to your pack and tell them he’s in charge now. Or, even better, we can hop on a plane. Anywhere in the world. Dinner in Paris. You can call them from halfway around the world. Or send a text.”
“You know I can’t do that. I have a responsibility to my pack. To the people of Crescent Springs.”
“To die for them?”
“I won’t die,” I said firmly, with more conviction than I felt. “Reed’s wolf might not kill me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Are you worried about me?”
He stared at me in outrage. “Jeremy, I love you, but you have all the sense of a screen door on a submarine! Yes, of course I’m worried about you!”
I blinked. “Did you just tell me you love me? While berating me?”
He froze—and if it was possible, went even paler.
“I guess I did,” he said slowly.
“Well, I guess that makes us even.” I leaned in for a kiss. “I already told you I love you.”
His lips were soft and warm when they met mine.
“You have a responsibility to me, too,” he said quietly when I pulled back.
I swallowed, a lurch in my stomach. “Yeah, I know.”
His eyes snapped open at my tone. “Don’t fret, wolf. We’ll let it be tomorrow’s problem.”
“Yeah,” I said roughly. “Godric, too. All of it can be tomorrow’s problem.”
Thierry cupped my face. “I need—” He broke off, struggling to ask.
“What is it? Anything.”
Then, through the bond, he showed me.
“Oh.” I raised my brows, earning a small smile. “Well, then. I’m happy to oblige.”
“Good.” He pulled me down onto him, legs wrapping around my waist. “We can talk about the future tomorrow. For tonight, I need you to make me focus on the present.”
I kissed him, grinding my hardness against him through a few thin layers of clothing. His hands cradled my back, desperate for reassurance. Through our connection, I felt the depth of his need.
He was finally ready to seal the bond.
“Are you sure?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “If we do this, there’s no going back.”
“There never was,” Thierry murmured. “So yes, wolf. I’m quite sure.”
His eyes met mine, raw vulnerability shining there. The bond carried his uncertainty as if it were my own.
“If you still want that, of course.”
“Yeah,” I said simply, a wave of white-hot emotion crashing through me. “I do.”
Relief flooded him. I could feel it—hell, maybe it was mine too.
“Then make love to me, Jeremy. I want that, too.”
I was more than happy to oblige.
Pressing my weight against him, I kissed him again, drawing a soft gasp as I ground against him. The clothing came off in layers, both of us undressing the other between kisses. There was no rush, only want and touch. Time fell away, meaningless. All that mattered was him.
His shirt came off, lean chest bare beneath my hands. His vivid blue eyes were bright with raw need. When he pulled my shirt away, his lips parted in wonder, as if he was finally registering that I belonged to him, and he to me. His hands traced my chest, making my eyes flutter half-shut.
They snapped open when his lips brushed my nipple. His tongue laved it, pulling a groan from me that went straight to my cock. I was already hard and aching, desperate to be inside him—my warm, tight, perfect mate.
As he worked my nipples, he undid the fly of my pants and pushed them down, freeing my cock. Grabbing both my ass cheeks, he guided my length between his lips and took me into his mouth.
A ragged groan tore from me. The urge to rut into that soft warmth, to pin him down, nearly overwhelmed me. Instead, I let him pleasure me. His lips slid up and down my shaft before swallowing me again.
I held still, but the sounds spilling from me were pure filth.
He pulled back just before I came, as if he already knew I was close, though I hadn’t said a word.
“You’re easy to read,” he murmured, making me grin down at him in raw delight. “Pants. Off. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” I chuckled, kicking free of my jeans before tugging at his fly. I didn’t quite tear his pants off, but I wanted to. We’d have plenty of time for rougher play later. This wasn’t about that, and we both knew it.
I tossed his clothes aside. Naked before me, Thierry’s cock was hard and beaded with precum. The velvety head looked sinfully enticing, and suddenly I wanted—more than anything—to taste him.
Pinning his hips gently with my hands, I swallowed him down to the hilt.
He was salty, musky, and perfect. His cock felt incredible in my mouth, and my wolf let out a satisfied rumble in my chest. Thierry gasped, then moaned sharply as I returned the favor—with interest.
His hands twisted the sheets, splayed against the mattress, while he writhed beneath my ministrations.
“Lube, now,” Thierry panted. “I’m getting close.”
I pulled off, glaring down at him. “You’re not coming until I’m inside you,” I growled.
Thierry snatched the lube from the nightstand and pressed it into my hand.
“Lube. Now ,” he repeated, breathless, lips swollen from my kisses. His golden hair was deliciously tousled, his eyes hooded with desire. “Make me belong to you. Only you.”
I popped the cap, coating my fingers while Thierry watched. Then, leaning in, I kissed him.
His lips parted in immediate submission, and my tongue met his even as I slid a finger into his warm, tight heat.
He moaned into my mouth as my finger found his sweet spot, and I worked it ruthlessly, drawing more cries from him. A second finger followed, loosening him so I could enter without causing pain.
“You’re taking it so well,” I murmured, pulling back to watch him.
“Please,” he panted. “I need it.”
“Soon,” I promised, sliding in a third finger.
He moaned again, rotating his hips, opening for me, letting me stretch him wider.
“Jeremy,” he gasped. “Please. I’m ready. I need it.”
He scarcely seemed aware of his words as he writhed, clutching the sheets. His cock throbbed against his belly, leaking steadily.
I pulled my fingers free, then slicked my cock with more lube—more than necessary. I didn’t want him to feel even a moment of pain.
“You want me to make love to you?” I growled, positioning myself between his legs.
“Yes,” he begged.
I pushed his knees back, exposing his perfect rosebud, and eased into him slowly, all the way to the hilt.
Thierry let out a gasping moan, his eyes rolling back.
The hot, velvety grip around my hard cock was perfect, like he’d been made for me. I thrust experimentally, letting him adjust. The sensation of being buried inside him pulled another groan from my throat.
“You feel incredible,” I murmured.
“Fuck me,” Thierry commanded.
After that, I lost myself. Driving deep, I chased each moan from his lips like a predator stalking prey. I kissed him as I moved, pleasure rising for us both. Through the bond, I felt his nearness, his sharp edge of release.
I came with a groan, breath hot against his lips, spilling deep inside him.
A moment later, Thierry cried out, bucking beneath me. I felt rope after rope of his hot seed splash against my belly.
When I pulled back to meet his gaze, wonder transformed us both. His fangs were out. And I realized this was the moment.
I nodded and bared my neck. It was a trust I could never have imagined giving anyone. But this was Thierry. Of course I trusted him. He would never harm me.
His lips were soft against my skin, sending a shiver through me. Then came the sting of fangs sinking in. I braced myself. This was my third time being bitten by a vampire, and it always hurt. But the pain vanished almost instantly.
Instead, every nerve ending in my body ignited at once, like I’d been dipped in kerosene and set ablaze.
I let out a sharp sound—half moan, half gasp. His bite was pure pleasure, caressing every nerve ending as though he owned me completely. He swallowed mouthfuls of my blood, but I barely noticed, lost in the euphoric sensations breaking me apart.
I came again as he fed, spilling deep inside his slick, velvet heat.
The world fractured until there was only him and me, drifting together on an ocean of sensation.
Memories blossomed around us. A church at the far end of a field, ringed by woods. A blond boy laughing, running. Another child—identical to Thierry—chased him.
You and your brother? I wondered, thoughts echoing across the bond.
Yes , Thierry whispered, and I felt his grief.