Chapter 12 – Aurora
Rorik is kissing me.
I’m kissing him.
We’ve never kissed before. Not even in our shared dreams.
This real-life kiss is better than what our unconscious states could have ever conjured.
The world around us seems to fade away as Rorik’s lips move over mine. Not frantic or harsh, but gentle. Appreciative. He’s so careful not to cut me with his fangs even if I desperately want to feel them sink down into my swollen lips.
Into my neck.
Anywhere on my body.
The band plays a new song—a jazz version of The Beach Boys’ Don’t Worry Baby—and it makes me feel like I’m at the end of my own rom-com movie. Except Rorik is not the type of love interest you root for. He’s dangerous, a killer, a kidnapper.
At the moment, I don’t care. I need more. I part my lips, and he swoops his tongue in, massaging my own.
Fuck. He’s really good at this.
He’s old. Really old. I don’t know how many years this vampire has lived on this earth, but he’s perfected the art of kissing.
I’m not sure how long his mouth is on mine. It could have been seconds or hours, but when Rorik pulls away, I whine. Before I can grab him to bring his lips back to mine, he twists me around and tugs my back to his front again.
He pushes my hair off my neck, and I try to step away because I’m sweaty and feeling a little self-conscious about it.
Rorik’s arm tightens around my waist. “Do you need to say the word, lamb?”
I huff but shake my head.
“Tell me out loud.”
“No. I’m just… sweaty and…”
My entire body freezes the moment Rorik’s tongue laps over my neck where sweat has gathered.
Oh. My. God.
“Hmm. So good.” He chuckles next to my ear. “Now, stop trying to get away from me. Everyone here is waiting for the show.”
My eyes dart over the crowd. No one is paying attention to us. Well, not really. They’re side-eyeing us, but at least they’re not staring.
Yet.
What will they do when Rorik starts finger fucking me?
I squeeze my legs together because the thought of being watched while he… takes me… has me soaking my panties.
Rorik inhales deeply. “You’re ready for me.”
“Yes,” I say, barely recognizing the word coming out of my mouth.
I’m so needy. I can’t explain it, but I desperately need this man right now.
It must be the fated mate thing.
Rorik’s hands move down my body. He secures one over my soft belly, which would normally make me uncomfortable, but with him, it feels right. It belongs. His other hand slips beneath the hem of my dress.
“Don’t hold back, Lamb. Let everyone hear how well I please you.”
With that, he pushes my panties aside and sinks a finger into my cunt.
I suck in a breath and arch my back. The hand on my stomach presses down, keeping me in place.
He soaks his finger in my pleasure, sliding it in and out of me at a leisurely pace.
“More,” I gasp.
“You want more, Aurora?”
“Please, Rorik.”
He removes the finger to press the tip to my clit and starts massaging. I can’t stop the moan that erupts from my mouth. I don’t care who heard it. The music is loud, so maybe no one did.
“Something you should know about me, my beautiful captive…” he says, working my clit like the sex god he is. “I’m a predator. I was made to hide in the shadows and stalk my prey. And because of that, my body… adapted.”
Suddenly, something solid slips between my legs and teases my wet pussy lips. It’s not Rorik’s other hand because it’s still on my stomach. I open my eyes and glance down.
Shadows.
Tendrils of them all around us. One wraps around my leg and tugs, spreading me open further.
“I can manipulate the shadows to create my own. They keep me hidden when I don’t want to be seen, but I can also use them for other things… better things.”
I moan again when he slides a tendril inside me.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he says.
I close my eyes as the shadow picks up speed, pumping into me while Rorik massages my sensitive clit.
My body shakes, my knees are weak, and I’m barely able to hold myself up. He must feel me struggling, because a shadow tendril wraps around my waist, keeping me upright.
Another slips behind the top of my dress and teases my hard nipple.
It’s too much.
“Rorik, I’m going to—” I gasp as another tendril teases my asshole. I will absolutely lose it if it goes in.
Rorik’s fangs scrape over my neck, and I shiver.
“Please, I need you.”
The words sound wrong. I shouldn’t be begging this man to let me come. I shouldn’t want anything from him. But my body has betrayed me. She’s addicted to his touch. His nearness.
And the pleasure he’s giving me with his fingers and shadows is too much.
When the tendril at my ass sinks past the first ring of muscles, my orgasm erupts. A sharp pain shoots up and down my neck before adding to the ecstasy pouring through my body.
The lights in the club start to dim, and it sounds as if I'm sinking deep into water. The music fades and the world goes dark.
Iwake with a start, gasping and grabbing at my neck.
My fingers graze the mark he left.
What the fuck?
It was real? He really… bit me?
He really fucked me with his fingers and shadows.
Shadows. Unbelievable.
I’ve read about shadow daddies in my spicy romance books, but I never thought I’d get to experience them.
Fuck. It was good.
I blink away the sleep and hold up my hand to shade the sun pouring into the room.
Rorik’s room. I look at the empty space beside me. Untouched. He didn’t sleep in here with me.
Okay.
That’s fine. I didn’t want him to.
Yes, you did.
I ignore the thought and search the room for the phone Layla provided me. The device was conveniently waiting for me at the club’s entrance when I arrived. It’s sitting on the bedside table. I pick it up.
Three? As in, three in the afternoon?
Fuck.
I’ve never slept this long in my life. My body must have needed to be replenished with sleep. Probably because I let a vampire drink from me. Did he take too much? Was the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me just that good?
I mean… It was good enough to make me pass out.
I toss the covers off my body to get out of bed but pause after noticing I’m no longer wearing the dress from the club… which means someone dressed me in this t-shirt and sweats.
Was it Rorik or Peyton? Both are strangers. I should be concerned that I was left in a vulnerable and naked state while around them.
But I’m not.
In the bathroom, I step in front of the mirror and frown.
My makeup was washed off, and my hair put up in a ponytail.
Did Rorik do this too?
The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the thought.
The fucking hoes.
After using the bathroom and freshening up, I slip out of the room to find coffee and food. I didn’t drink much last night, but I’m starving and in need of caffeine.
“Good morning, my love,” Rorik says when I enter the kitchen.
My love.
It’s just an endearment. It means nothing.
“Hungry?”
I nod, too grumpy without my morning coffee to form sentences. Or afternoon coffee in this case.
I step further into the kitchen and glance around the apartment. It’s open concept so I can see into the living and dining area. The blinds are up, letting the sunny day warm the space.
The sun!
The magical shields on the windows are gone!
I want to bask in it. Maybe sit in the oversized chair and read a book. It’s so peaceful in here and—
Wait. Why is it so peaceful in here?
It’s nice and quiet. Too quiet. As in, just me and this vampire.
“Where’s the guard?” I ask, breaking my ‘no speaking before coffee’ rule. “Isn’t there supposed to be another supe here during the day to protect me from you?”
Rorik’s at the stove, his back to me while he makes scrambled eggs. Glancing over his shoulder, he says, “Oh, do you mean Bellamore? The wolf shifter? Yes, he’s just taking a nap.”
He nods his chin past the kitchen island where a pair of feet poke out.
Stepping further past the island, I find a burly man with dark brown skin dressed in black cargo pants and a green t-shirt, passed out on the floor.
Suspiciously passed out.
“What did you do to him?”
Rorik turns, holding a pan and a spatula, and gasps dramatically. He’s wearing an apron, but I can’t read what’s on it at this angle.
“Whatever do you mean? That man was tired. He all but collapsed on the floor to go to sleep.”
I stare at the vampire, mouth open, too stunned to speak.
How can he look so domesticated right now after clearly knocking the big shifter man unconscious?
It’s confusing my brain. Logic tells me to hate the man, but my heart really wants to learn more about why he’s so nonchalant about injuring and killing other beings.
I have no doubt it’s because of my mother and the curse she placed on him.
“Is he alive?” I ask.
Rorik points at the kitchen island’s stool and places a mug on the counter. He adds hazelnut creamer and packets of sweetener, somehow knowing how I like my coffee since day one.
Reluctantly, I sit.
“Like I said, he’s just taking a nap.”
“That you forced him to take,” I mumble.
“I made scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast,” Rorik says, ignoring my concerns.
“It’s three in the afternoon. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because you needed to sleep. Your body needs to stay fueled and rested.”
What does that even mean?
Before I can ask, he slides a plate to me, then wipes his hands on the apron, which reads, ‘Cursed but hot.’
I snort and shake my head, picking up the fork that was already set out for me. My stomach growls and all thoughts are focused on the food before me.
I nearly groan at how good it tastes.
“Jesus, Rory. What did you put in this food to make it taste this good?”
He doesn’t answer, so I glance up at him. He’s smiling, and my heart flutters at how handsome he is. How young and innocent that smile makes him appear.
“What?”
“You called me Rory.”
“Yes? I heard Teddy call you that.”
“You usually call me Rorik.”
“I’m sorry.”
He walks over to me and cups my chin. “No, don’t be sorry. Never be sorry. I like hearing you say my name; in whichever form you like. But you calling me Rory makes me happy.”
He drops his hand and turns around to start cleaning up the kitchen.
“Why does it make you happy?”
He keeps his back to me as he washes the pans he used for breakfast.
“Rorik is formal. You’ve been calling me that since the moment you learned my name. But Rory is casual, personal. It means you’re starting to feel comfortable around me.”
I suppose he’s right. It’s hard to be uncomfortable around a man you let finger you in front of a crowd. Besides, it’s not like I ever feared him, even when he was keeping me captive. I was mostly just angry with him.
He’s slowly redeeming himself, but he’s not off the hook just yet.
“Did you dress me in these clothes?”
“I did.”
“And take off my makeup?”
“Yes.” When I don’t respond to that, he glances over his shoulder. “I hope that was okay.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He’s such an anomaly. From the naughty words he whispered in my ear last night at the club and the wonderful things he did to me in front of everyone… to making sure my face was clean and I was in comfortable clothes to sleep.
He makes it hard to hold a grudge.
“What happened last night?” I ask after I finish eating. I push my plate away and stand to refill my coffee.
“Well, I fucked you with my—”
I roll my eyes. “I mean after. When I… came. I passed out, right?”
His humor dies. “You did. But that’s common for mates, especially ones who aren’t immortal. Your body couldn’t handle the pleasure.”
My face turns red. Did he have to carry me out of the club? Every supernatural creature could likely smell how horny I was. Oh, god. They knew what we did. While I didn’t care in the moment last night, today, regret is hitting me at full force.
“Everyone saw…”
I lean against the kitchen island and sip my coffee.
Rorik nods. “Some did, but my shadows kept us pretty hidden. It’s not a big deal, though. At least for now.”
My head jerks up. “What do you mean, for now?”
He smirks, absolutely proud of whatever he’s about to confess.
“Well, apparently public sex at supernatural nightclubs will no longer be allowed once the supernatural unveiling plan takes effect. Public feeding has been banned for a while now, but they’re really going to start cracking down on everything.
Something about crossing lines between humans and supes and following the law… ”
His words trail off, and he waves his hand around like it’s nothing.
“What the hell, Rorik! If you knew this, why did you bite me in front of everyone?”
He frowns. “Aw, no more Rory?”
“You’re so fucking frustrating,” I say, turning to leave.
He grabs my arm to stop me and takes my coffee. Once he sets the mug down on the counter, he boxes me to the island.
Clutching my chin, he turns my head to inspect my neck.
His mark.
He runs his fingertips over the bite, and shivers wash over my body.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Turning my head back, he searches my eyes, brows furrowed as he waits for my answer.
“No. It… felt good,” I say.
The corners of his lips turn up, his eyes sparkling with pride.
“Just wait until I bite you…” he lets go of my chin and traces his finger down my front, between my breasts, over my soft stomach, until reaching my inner thigh. “Here.”
Like in our first dream.
“No. I don’t want you to bite me there.”
It’s a lie. I desperately do.
I place my palm over his heart, gasping faintly when it thuds against his chest.
He also seems surprised.
“Does it usually do that?”
“No. Not since before I was turned,” he says, his voice full of awe.
A single heartbeat. I keep my hand there, waiting for more. Only after another minute does it thud again.
“How is that possible?” I ask.
But before he can attempt to answer, a groan from the floor pulls me from the trance this man has placed on me. I push Rorik away, grab my coffee, and step around the kitchen island to see the shifter stirring.
“We have some things we need to discuss, Little Lamb. I found some of your mother’s belongings that I’m hoping will help us track her down… and possibly jog your memories.”
I tear my eyes away from the injured man on the floor.
Rorik leans against the kitchen island, arms crossed.
He’s removed the apron, and I admire the way the short sleeves of his black t-shirt stretch over his muscles.
His sapphire-blue eyes are so bright in this sun-filled room.
His light brown skin is warm and inviting.
I hate how badly my body wants his. It seems to be getting worse the more we’re around each other.
I need answers… about everything… and it seems like he might have some.
“Fine. But only if you stop calling me ‘Little Lamb’ and get this man some help.”
He raises a brow, prepared for a challenge.
“I’ll get that man help, but you will always be my little lamb. If you don’t want me to call you that, just say the word.”
I sigh. “God, you’re an asshole.”
“Yes, I am, but by the smell of your sweet cunt right now… she likes it when I’m a little mean.”
He’s right, but I’ll never admit it.