38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dacre
I’ve resorted to banging my head against the wall. The rain hitting the skylight in my room is enough to disguise the sound, and the pain is negligible compared to what Emma is going through.
I don’t know what’s worse:the fact that the entire university now knows we’re scent-matches or the fact that, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find Emma to talk to her about it. Or even worse, the mind numbing fact that can’t be ignored.
She doesn’t want to see me.
When I ran into Zant early today, I knew he knew something.
I had to fight the urge to hurt him when I cornered him inside Solexxa House and I could smell her on him.
I knew they were friends, but she trusts him more than me?
Did she ask him to help her and not me? Is it because she doesn’t trust me?
I’ve given her nothing but reasons not to.
He assured me that she wanted to be alone. So, here I am, alone in my room, where I’ve been all day because I can’t think of anything other than where she is.
I don’t know with 100 percent certainty, but judging by her scent faintly clinging to his jacket, at least one reason she doesn’t want to talk to me is that she’s got fevour pains. Our nights together must have triggered it.
Her scent was so . . . delicious. So little of her was enough to be my undoing today. Screw the culinary club and the rest of my classes; I didn’t go.
I slump onto the bed to watch the rain while my phone vibrates on the wood of my nightstand.
My grandfather has been calling me all day, but too bad he’s all the way in Vviveren City and can’t come and ambush me.
He’s probably pissed that I’ve delayed the contract signing, or maybe he’s disappointed to hear of my absence in my curriculars today.
There’s a knock on my door, and I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s nearly two in the morning. Surely, my grandfather didn’t get on his private jet in this weather to get me to answer him. Or worse, send Liam to straighten me out.
The thunder shakes the room as I open the door a crack. My heart drops.
Emma is standing there, soaking wet from head to toe. Droplets bead from her hair, creating long, black streaks of mascara on her cheeks. The wood of the door splinters under my hand when her scent hits me.
This woman was made for me. Chemically. Molecule by molecule.
Cell by cell. The urge races through my body to satiate her, to comfort her.
It’s so fast, hitting in a wave so strong that my knees nearly buckle.
And, as great as it is, as much as it’s wired into my biology to help her, nothing matters more than figuring out why the fuck she’s crying at my doorstep in the middle of the night.
“Can I come in?” she sniffs.
“Of course.”
I dart for a towel and drape it over her. With heaving shoulders, she breaks into another sob.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I just . . . I’ve had the worst day, and all I wanted to do was to come and see you, but I knew that I shouldn’t, so I didn’t.
The doctor told me this wouldn’t go away for a week, and so I locked myself in my room because I didn’t want to see anyone else.
I thought it would feel good to be outside where it’s cool, but when I went out in front of Luxxia, I ran into Verity. ”
She collapses against my chest, and I squeeze her, caressing her face and her head. Her scent is the loudest thing in the room. Louder than the pouring rain pelting the skylight or the fire cracking in the fireplace. Even louder than the thunder that shakes us as I hold her.
“What did she say?”
“That . . . this thing between us is a terrible idea, and I shouldn’t come back to the culinary club. She was waiting around in Luxxia to see if the rumors were true.”
I’m going to kill them. This entire thing with the article has Verity and Luther written all over it.
I can get them kicked out of the culinary club.
It’ll be easy enough to catch them in a scandal.
Then I’ll pay for them to take an unexpected trip to the islands as solace for their troubles, and then they’ll mysteriously fall into the murky sea, never able to bother her again.
“I’m so tired of pretending. I just want to be right. I try so hard, and nothing ever feels good enough. I’m not even sure I belong in the club, and I don’t care anymore . . . I just want to be happy. I want . . . I want . . .”
Emma sobs harder, and I wrap the towel tighter around her, never letting go. I don’t think I can.
“It will all be okay. I’ll fix it.”
“I don’t care what everyone else thinks, but I care what you think. If you want me to leave you alone, just tell me. I can take it.”
“Don’t leave me alone.” I brush the wet hair away from her forehead. “You don’t need to worry about them.”
“She said you’d never love me, and every time I think of that, I just can’t stop crying.”
“Since when do you listen to anything she says? You can’t possibly think that’s true.”
She sniffs, and her head stills when she spots the bed I’ve loaded up with pillows and blankets, just in case . . .
I think she understands because her fingers curl into my shirt.
There’s nothing I want more than for her to stay.
Nothing. Not food. Not blood. Not air.
Another tear falls down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb and wipe it off.
“The last thing I want you to do is walk out that door. I’ve sat in my room all day, wishing I could come and find you,” I say.
“You . . . wanted to come find me?”
Her scent has woven its way into every fiber of my clothes and is now seeping into my pores.
She may still want nothing to do with me and will want me to escort her back to her room.
“Emma, I’m going to be your downfall. I’m so sorry. But I promise to always be here for you, however you want me to be.”
“That’s what she said . . . That this will ruin everything for me.”
If I didn’t exist, things would be better for her. If I had never blocked her from the culinary club, if my whole family had never existed. Parker would have protected her. She’d be happy. Maybe the club would be run differently.
“It might. No one will accept it. It’s only going to make both our lives more complicated. I will ruin you, Emma, if you let me. I’ll ruin everything for you right now, and then do my best to put it all back together because . . . I’m in love with you. She’s wrong about that.”
“You love me?” Another tear falls down her cheek, and she steps closer.
“I can’t help it.” I wipe her tears with my sleeve.
“I don’t want to go back to the way things were before. I don’t want something casual, and I don’t want you to marry someone else.”
“The only person I plan on marrying is you.”
Then her lips are on mine, and her saliva brings my attention back to the fact that her scent is the best it’s ever been, and nothing will satisfy this hunger till I taste every bit of her with my tongue.
“Will you make me feel better?” she sniffs.
I cup a hand under her jaw and kiss her lips again. “I will if you want me to.”
The sigh of satisfaction that leaves her is enough to flip that switch in my brain to a completely different kind of comfort.
“You won’t remember it like this. You might bruise. You’ll wake up sore. Angry.” I suck at the skin on her neck.
I’ve never wanted blood this badly. The lines blur when I lightly bite her shoulder. It’s all so close. So perfect.
“Ruin me,” she whispers.
I don’t know if I can stop kissing her. Every brush and bite of her lips sends me into near delirium.
I rip open the collar of her shirt, loosening the sleeves over her shoulders.
Then I snap the clasps of her bra, leaving it on the floor.
Her bare chest is illuminated by the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, and I brush my hand below the supple curve of her breast, imagining the mark of my teeth and claiming them for myself.
I’ve never sculpted anything but pasta, but I could sculpt her perfect, round breasts.
“You might hate me in the morning.”
“That’s a normal day for us.” It’s that smile that she gives when she’s joking, but it’s deflated from the day. The stress and all that pain.
My tongue slips into her mouth again, and she moans while I lift her up and drag her to the edge of the bed.
I want to linger on the taste of her lips, but I know what she needs. She needs relief.
When I start unbuttoning my shirt, Emma lays her head back and basks in the multitude of blankets and pillows.
“You made it comfy . . . for me?”
I nod, undoing my belt. “In case you decided you wanted help.”
“It’s perfect.” Her fingers intertwine with the fabric.
“Emma . . . I . . . If I bite you right now, I won’t be able to stop, so I . . . have to take precautions, but I don’t want to scare you.”
It’s tolerable now, but when I’m inside her, it won’t be. It’s already taking over all my thoughts. Her heart is pumping all that delicious blood right under the surface of her perfect skin. I lean down to kiss her thigh, running my tongue up the vein in her leg.
“As long as you don’t stop.”
“How bad is the pain, Em?”
Stars, I want to suck her dry. I dig my fingers into the sheets, but I feel myself losing my grip. It’s what fevour does. It’s more than an urge. Her pheromones push me further and further into madness, where it’s only sex, breeding, and blood.
She pouts. “It’s better when you’re closer.”
I kiss her stomach and yank down her skirt. The useless, fragile fabric tears in my hand. Her panties are lace and pull apart in my hand.
I lick her skin again. Every taste fails to satiate me.
She wants me closer. The hairs on my neck stand up as I wipe the precum off my dick and press it inside her with my fingers. Satisfaction runs up my spine. I need this woman to be mine. Mind. Body. Blood.
She gasps.
“Better? Worse?”
A gentle sob leaves her lips, and I stop.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No. It’s so much better already.”
I press in deeper, and she nearly screams, grabbing a pillow to smother her cries.
“I know.” I kiss the creamy skin of her stomach. “There you go.”
She squirms, and I press deeper, and I grab the pillow so I can hear her cry for me.
I don’t care who hears.
“Tell them, Em. Let them know I’m claiming you.”
“Dacre.”
That’s exactly it. Every soft cry as I drive further inside her feeds the urge inside me to satisfy. To breed.
This is never going to be enough for me. I move her hair away from her eyes, smiling and enjoying the soft patter of her pulse beneath my fingers.
I’m going to worship this woman.