Chapter 33 #2
I'm still shaking when he carries me out of the shower, both of us dripping, neither of us caring. He makes it as far as the bedroom before I pull his mouth down to mine.
"Again," I say against his lips.
"You need to rest."
"I need you." I pull him closer, feeling his want surge through the bond despite his protests. "We have eternity to rest."
He kisses me. Deep, consuming, nothing held back. Then my back is against the wall, and he's lifting me, and I wrap myself around him.
When he slides back inside me, we both moan at the sensation. The bond has settled into something steady now, a constant current of shared feeling that makes every touch electric.
"I can feel how much you want me," I murmur against his ear.
"I've wanted you since the moment you walked into my life." He thrusts deeper, and I gasp. "Every night. Every hour. Every moment."
"Then show me."
He does.
He takes me against the wall with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. Hard, fast, desperate. I feel his need through the bond, raw and consuming.
"More," I demand, and he gives me more.
The orgasm builds fast, fed by the feedback loop. His pleasure fueling mine, mine fueling his, spiraling higher with every thrust. When it crashes over us, I cry out against his shoulder, feeling him shudder inside me as we break apart together.
But it's not enough. Not nearly enough.
I'm still shaking when he carries me to the bed, both of us trembling, neither of us finished.
On the bed, he's different.
"Now," he says, settling over me, "we do this properly."
The desperation has faded into something else. Still hungry, still wanting, but controlled now. Deliberate. He settles over me, bracing himself on his forearms, and just looks at me.
"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze.
"I'm memorizing you." His fingers trace the line of my jaw, my throat, the curve of my shoulder. "Every time I almost lost you, I kept thinking, I don't have enough memories. I need more."
"You have eternity now."
"I know." He lowers his mouth to my collarbone, pressing a kiss there. "And I intend to spend every moment of it learning you."
He starts at my throat, mapping my skin with his lips. Slow, reverent kisses that trail across my shoulders, down the valley between my breasts, over the curve of my ribs. I feel his focus like a laser, the way he catalogs every shiver, every hitch in my breath, every spot that makes me gasp.
"Here," he murmurs against the inside of my elbow, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. "You like this."
"I like everything you do."
"I know. I can feel it." He smiles against my skin. "But some things you like more than others."
He continues his exploration, finding places I didn't know were sensitive.
The inside of my wrist. The curve of my hip.
The soft skin behind my knee. Each discovery sends ripples through the bond, my pleasure feeding his satisfaction, his attention making me feel like the most precious thing in the world.
By the time he settles between my thighs again, I'm trembling with need.
"Please," I whisper. "I need you inside me."
"Not yet." He presses a kiss to my inner thigh. "I'm not done learning."
"Maximus..."
"Patience." His breath is warm against my core. "We have eternity, remember?"
His mouth finds me again, but this time it's different. Slower. More thorough. He explores every fold, every nerve ending, learning what makes me gasp and what makes me moan and what makes me cry out his name like a prayer.
I lose track of time. Lose track of everything except his mouth, his hands, the constant pulse of the bond between us. He brings me to the edge over and over, backing off each time, drawing out the pleasure until I'm begging.
"Please, I need, Maximus, please..."
Finally, finally, he rises over me. I feel his arousal against my thigh, hard and ready, and I reach for him, guiding him to where I need him most.
He pushes in slowly. Inch by inch, letting me feel every bit of him, watching my face as he fills me completely.
"Look at me," he says.
I meet his gaze.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I know." He starts to move, slow and deep. "I feel it."
We move together like we've been doing this for centuries instead of days. His thrusts are measured, deliberate, hitting places inside me that make stars explode behind my eyes. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans against my throat.
"I want to taste you," I say. "While you're inside me."
His rhythm falters. His desire surges at the request. I feel it slam into me, primal, undeniably vampire.
"Are you sure?"
"I want everything."
He tilts his neck, offering, and the scent of his blood, rich, ancient, powerful, makes my fangs ache. I strike without hesitation, sinking into his vein, and the taste of him floods my senses.
Pleasure floods through me, so intense it borders on pain. Him buried deep inside me, his blood on my tongue, the bond singing between us. I feel his satisfaction at the connection, feel us strengthening with every pull.
"My turn," he groans.
I release his throat and bare my neck to him. He doesn't hesitate. His mouth finds the curve of my neck, tongue tracing the vein that pulses beneath my skin. And then...
The bite.
His fangs in my throat while he's still inside me. I feel my blood flowing into him, feel his satisfaction at the taste, the connection between us deepening with every pull.
Everything intensifies.
We're drinking from each other while moving together, no barriers left between us. His pleasure is mine. My pleasure is his. Our heartbeats pound in perfect unison, racing toward something that feels like it might shatter us both.
I glance down at our chests, pressed together. The bond marks are glowing again. That soft crimson luminescence. His crescent against mine, the two halves forming one perfect glowing moon.
He thrusts deeper, harder, and I feel his control slipping. His desperation bleeds into me, the need to claim, to possess, to mark me as his in every way possible.
"Yours," I gasp against his throat, releasing my bite. "I'm yours."
"Mine," he growls. "And I'm yours. Forever."
He seals his bite and captures my mouth, kissing me deep, letting me taste my own blood on his tongue. His thrusts turn frantic, punishing, and I meet him stroke for stroke, both of us chasing the peak that's building between us.
The bond is a living thing now. Pulsing, growing, connecting us so completely that I can't tell where I end and he begins. A loop that spirals higher and higher until...
We break.
Together.
One orgasm shared between two bodies, so intense I lose myself in it. I feel him spilling inside me, feel his ecstasy crashing through the bond, feel our heartbeats stutter and then synchronize as we fall apart in each other's arms.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. Neither of us can.
He's still inside me, his weight a comfort rather than a burden. Our shared heartbeat pounds between us, gradually slowing from its frantic rhythm.
"I think you killed me," he murmurs against my hair.
"You're already dead."
"More dead, then." He rolls to the side, pulling me with him, keeping us connected. "Twice dead. Extra dead."
I laugh weakly. "That's not a thing."
"It is now." He pulls me closer, tucking me against his chest. "You've invented a whole new category of death."
I press my palm flat against his chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath my hand. Feeling the warmth of the bond mark.
"We have a heartbeat," I say softly.
"We do."
"Why us?"
"I don't know." He's quiet for a moment. He presses a kiss to my forehead. "I've stopped trying to understand it. I'm just grateful for it."
I snuggle closer, letting my eyes drift closed. The bond hums contentedly between us, warm and steady. His emotions settle over me like a blanket. Satisfaction, love, peace.
"We should probably talk," I murmur. "About Konstantin. About the trigger. About what comes next."
"Tomorrow."
"There's a war. And I'm apparently a weapon he can activate whenever he wants."
"The bond provides some protection. And tomorrow, we start figuring out how to remove it entirely." He tightens his arms around me. "Tonight, we rest. We've earned that much."
He's right. We have.
I let myself sink into his embrace, into the bond, into the heartbeat that connects us. Tomorrow there will be plans to make, enemies to face, and a kill switch buried in my blood that we need to find and destroy.
But tonight, I'm exactly where I need to be.
With him. Bonded. Whole.
Alive.
Sleep doesn't come immediately.
We lie tangled together, too sated to move but too wired to rest. The bond pulses between us, soft and steady, a constant reminder that we're connected now in ways that go beyond the physical.
"I can feel you thinking," Maximus says against my hair.
"Sorry. I'll think quieter."
"I don’t think that’s how it works." His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "What's on your mind?"
Everything. Nothing. The weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing down on me like a physical thing.
"Valentina's dead," I say finally. "I killed my maker."
"You did."
"I thought I'd feel more." I trace idle patterns on his chest, around the edges of the bond mark. "She ruined my life. Stole everything from me. Told me I was nothing but a weapon waiting to be used. And when I finally killed her, I just felt empty."
"That's normal." His hand strokes down my spine, soothing. "Revenge rarely feels the way we expect it to. The anticipation is always bigger than the act itself."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Luciano." The name comes out flat. "I spent a hundred and fifty years dreaming of killing him. Planning it. Savoring every detail of how I'd make him suffer. And when I finally did it, when I finally ripped his head from his shoulders, I felt nothing. Just silence."
"Did the silence ever fill up again?"