Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Samantha
Aclatter and then a crash somewhere in the house wake me. Disoriented, I look around the room, but I’m alone. My fangs drop and my sharp nails dig into my palms.
It takes a moment for the rage to cool off enough that I can take in the room. There’s a dress shirt folded on a chair next to me, no panties or pants. Interesting. It seems the men of the house didn’t mind my previous choice of attire after all.
I lick my lips and my fangs ache. How can I be hungry again? This will get ridiculous very quickly if I can’t stay away from Rafael even for a couple of hours. And what about Santiago? I’m not completely in control of myself, but I’m pretty sure I’m into him.
I bit Rafael.
Chills run down my spine. I lost control and bit him. Hurt him. I was so fucking angry and he just held me. They both did, cuddled and coddled me. And then fucked my brains out.
It scares me how hard my emotions swing from one end to another. In the moment, I don’t sense anything wrong with what I’m doing or feeling, but now… It’s like for a moment the fog has lifted and I’m not sure I know who I am anymore.
Not that I’ve changed into someone else, but like every filter and break and limitation I might have is now gone. Anger. Lust. Those emotions are riding me hard, quickly followed by frustration and neediness. Need for blood. Need for connection.
I’m looking for something, I need something, and I’m not getting it. It—whatever it is—is missing. A part or piece that keeps me off-kilter.
Another crash jostles me out of my thoughts and the bed.
Sneaking out of the door—once again unlocked; at least we are making progress there—I turn toward the sounds coming from downstairs. It sounds almost like… cooking. Pans clattering against surfaces and occasional plates or something like it crashing to the floor.
What the hell?
When I reach the kitchen, I hiss at the state of it.
The sounds are not coming from cooking. Rafael is cleaning, and he growls when he sees me.
His eyes are almost black and his hair is mussed up.
There are a couple of trash bags already filled and the fridge is pretty much empty. He’s been cleaning my mess.
“Where do I take those?” I ask, pointing at the bags, and he growls again. “I need verbal communication. I don’t speak caveman fluently,” I snap when he keeps going on with his rumble.
“You are not taking them anywhere. I am,” he says after a lengthy stare down.
“Ah, don’t start with this crap this early in the morning—evening—whatever it is. I am totally capable of taking out the trash.”
“I don’t want you out of the house. Go to the living room and watch a movie or something. I can take care of things here.”
My fangs elongate as my irritation rises. Being hungry used to make me crappy; now it seems that I’m going to give ‘hangry’ a whole new meaning. I’m on Rafael before he has time to blink. He may have allowed me to jump him, but I choose to believe that I took him by surprise.
“Don’t piss me off, vamp,” I growl. “I’m hungry and I don’t want to spoil my meal with venom again.”
“Do you have the urge to bite me again, sweetheart?” he taunts me. Seems that we are both spoiling for a fight.
“Where’s Santiago?” I ask sweetly. I haven’t smelled him since I woke up.
“Not here.” Rafael’s tone turns clipped and I arch a brow at him.
“Then it seems you’d better behave if you want to keep me fed,” I purr and his eyes flash. That’s the only warning I get before he grabs my neck and tows my mouth to his neck.
I bite on instinct and shudder as his blood covers my tongue. It tastes richer, more laced with power, and I stifle a moan.
Could sipping from Santiago have changed Rafael’s blood this much, this fast? If so, I have to say I hope he does it again. Even while drinking, I can feel the difference his blood has on me now. It feels more… substantial, more filling, and I’m full sooner than I anticipated.
Pulling back, I lick the punctures and they close under my tongue. Hmm, why didn’t Rafael teach me to do that? He shivers and his fingers graze over the bite.
“You closed them,” he says, sounding surprised.
“Yes?”
“Young changelings are not able to close their bites. How did you know how to do it?”
“I didn’t. I just did.”
“You just… right. How do you feel?”
“Pumped. Like I had weeks’ worth of meals packed in one, but not like I overate.” I stop to think for a while and realize I can feel or sense more things. There’s a new kind of alertness and a very faint tug in my core. I concentrate on it and get a lingering scent of lemon-meringue pie.
“Santiago. It’s because you drank from him, isn’t it? I can almost feel him.”
“No, you can’t,” Rafael says sullenly and I focus back on him.
“I can’t? Then why do I kind of smell him inside of me?” It’s a fucking weird feeling, but I don’t know how else to describe it.
“Fuck,” Rafael curses and hits the countertop next to us hard enough for it to crack.
“So I can feel him.” I don’t mean to sound smug, but I do. The undercurrent of anger surfaces and I enjoy the torment clear on Rafael’s face.
Mixed with the anger is heat and need. Instinctively, I snuggle closer and part of me melts when Rafael runs his hand over my back in a soothing motion. His blood warms my body, making it hum and when I graze his neck, he tilts back, immediately offering more.
Fuck.
Okay, so I want him again, need him again. My head feels heavy, the alertness turning to lust. His shirt disintegrates under my fingers and I run them greedily everywhere I can reach. Rafael moves swiftly and I find myself firmly pressed between him and the wall.
There’s no way to escape, not that I want to. His strength turns me on. The buttons pop from my shirt and I shrug free of it, leaving only his pants between us.
“Get them off,” I say. Rafael doesn’t seem to hear, focusing on kissing my breasts and grinding himself against me. I wiggle my hand in between us and push hard enough that he gives me some space. I don’t waste a second, popping his button loose and sliding the zipper down.
“Careful,” he groans, but it’s my turn to ignore him as I push his pants down just enough for his erection to spring free. Rafael lifts me up and lines at my entrance.
“We have a problem,” Santiago says, strolling into the room, and I snarl.
No!
“What?” Rafael growls, holding me in place as I try to wiggle down. I need him inside me. I can’t focus on anything else but the tip of his cock, nudging at my entrance.
“The wolves,” Santiago replies and Rafael stiffens. For a second, I think he’s going to pull back, but the next moment, he slams inside me. Moaning, I arch in his arms and rub against him.
“This is going to be fast, Samantha,” he grinds out, setting a punishing pace. I don’t mind, not as long as he keeps going.
“Goddamn, you two,” Santiago huffs. “The house could be burning and all you’d think about is sex.”
“I’m a new vamp. I’m expected to think about sex all the time,” I manage to say between my panting breaths.
“You are impossible to argue with,” Santiago complains as his hand slides between us, his long fingers rubbing against my clit.
“Oh gods,” I groan when Rafael adjusts his angle and then I’m flying high. My pussy spasms around his cock, and he drives into me, chasing his own release.
“Come for us again, darling,” Santiago whispers in my ear, his smooth voice made out of hot and sweet dreams. There’s nothing I can do to resist when he leans in to graze his fangs over my shoulder, and I scream as the second orgasm hits.
This time, Rafael follows me over and we slump against the wall.
“Now that we got that out of the way…” Santiago begins and I poke my tongue out at him.
“Let’s get Samantha into bed first,” Rafael says, gathering me in his arms.
“What? No!”
“Yes, you are a few minutes away from crashing. You need sleep.”
“No, I don’t,” I say through a yawn.
“It would make us both feel better to know you are resting. Just humor us, please.” Santiago suddenly changes into peacekeeper mode. “We will stay in bed with you so you don’t feel left out,” he adds when I pout.
I may be a new vamp, but I’m not an idiot. I know when I’m being ‘handled.’ Still, now that the need is not riding me so hard, I kind of feel tired.
“No leaving me alone or out of things,” I say, pointing a finger at both of them.
“We wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” Rafael says and I scoff.
Oh yes, they would and they will. I’m just too exhausted to have this argument right now. My body and moods seem to swing from one extreme to another in seconds and it’s exhausting.
At least the orgasms are magnificent.
They tuck me in and I close my eyes, but despite being tired, I’m not falling asleep.
Honestly, I expect them to leave me alone, but Santiago sits by my head and runs his fingers through my hair.
Rafael moves around the room, probably finding something to wear, and then the bed dips next to my feet.
He’s sitting as far away from Santiago as he can.
“What’s this problem with the wolves? Must be serious for you to interrupt like that,” Rafael says.
“Ha. Maybe I just didn’t want to be left out,” Santiago grumbles.
“San.” Rafael sounds exasperated.
“I ran into the pack on your land.”
“What?” Rafael hisses.
I’d like to know more about that too. What pack? What lands? And not to put too fine a point on it, where the fuck is this place exactly? So far, all I know is that it has a cellar, kitchen, and magnificent gardens.
Santiago keeps stroking my hair while he replies. “The alpha changed as soon as we met. They were coming here to meet with you. I convinced them that this is not a good time.”
“Why would they come here?” Now Rafael sounds agitated and I have an urge to comfort him.
I also want to know more and I have a feeling they might not speak as freely if they realize I’m still awake, so I don’t do a damn thing. Are they talking about wolf shifters? Or werewolves? I think I remember Thea saying there was a difference.
“He refused to say.”
“Damn wolves. This is not good,” Rafael huffs.