Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Samantha
The shower warms me quickly, but I linger. That poor woman. Who would do such a thing? What would do such a thing? It doesn’t matter that the killer might not have known; rage boils in my veins regardless.
I try to control my feelings. Breathing in and out slowly doesn’t help, neither does counting from a hundred to zero.
Picturing rainbows only makes me see red, blood red, and my fangs ache.
Being a new vamp is emotionally exhausting.
Not that I wouldn’t have felt the same as a human, but none of my methods to calm down are working now.
I smell Santiago before I hear him. His scent calls to me and, with an emotional whiplash, my feelings turn to lust. Fuck. Being turned on right after finding a body is so not the thing to do. I flip the shower off and step out, just as he opens the bathroom door.
No man should look so glorious while dripping wet. I need to get out of here before I offer to wash his back.
“The shower is free,” I say and grab a towel to wrap around my body. I’ll dry myself once I’m out of his sight, though once he’s out of my sight is more like it.
Santiago stands in the doorway, blocking my way, and crosses his arms. Green eyes follow my every movement. Involuntarily, I take a step closer.
“Let me out,” I say, trying to put some conviction behind my words and failing miserably.
A soft smile plays on his lips and he shakes his head. “I need to apologize.”
“What?”
“For frightening you earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Now it’s my turn to cross my arms. “You didn’t,” I lie through gritted teeth.
“I did,” he replies. “When I have you whimpering beneath me, I want it to be from pleasure, not fear.”
“Cocky.”
“Mmh,” he hums. “I’m just trying to decide the best way to apologize.”
Slowly, he starts to strip and I can’t help but stare. First thing to go is his shirt. Then the harness that holds several knives. From his pants, he pulls out several daggers, then he pops the button and quirks a brow at me when I keep staring.
Where the hell was he hiding all those weapons? Did he have them on all this time?
I guess that question is clear on my face because the corner of his mouth lifts.
“Yes, I’m always armed.”
“But why?”
“I’m a hunter.”
“Oo, big, bad, scary monster hunter,” I snark because if I don’t, I’m going to melt into a puddle. He twirls one of the daggers and flips it a couple of times before setting it down on the pile growing on the floor.
“Do you feel the urge to run from me, Samantha? Do I scare you?”
“No.”
“No, you don’t want me to chase you? Or no, I don’t scare you?”
“You don’t scare me.”
That earns me a quick smile and it takes all my concentration not to move closer to him and run my hands down his sculpted abs.
The trail of black hair on his stomach pulls my gaze down as he opens his pants and pushes them off.
The erection that greets my eyes makes my mouth water and I swallow as my pussy pulses.
Santiago’s nostrils flare. And then he flashes his fangs at me and my pussy is no longer the only thing throbbing.
“Rafael is making the call. He’s going to come up and feed you soon,” he says, still lodged in the doorway.
“Fine, whatever.” I gasp. My nipples are painfully tight, my fangs ache, and my body is wound so tight, I can barely stand.
“Let me take care of your other needs, little fangs.” I expect that he’s being cocky, but when I meet his gaze, he looks earnest. Almost pleading. “I need to take care of you,” he whispers when our eyes lock. “I can smell your arousal. I see the ache in your eyes.”
“Santiago,” I manage barely a whisper from my dry throat.
“Let me care for you, Samantha. The way I’m able to.”
Letting my towel drop, I step back into the shower and he quickly follows. His fingers are cold when they wrap around my waist and his body feels chilled against my back. Shivering, I turn the shower back on and lean my forehead against the shower wall when he starts kissing my shoulders.
“So soft, so smooth,” he murmurs between kisses.
“Please,” I moan quietly as he kisses the butterfly tattoo on my shoulder blade.
“Trust me. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
I nod mutely. His hands roam over my body but avoid any place that yearns for his touch. He’s almost… reverent. Shudders rack me under the water as he finds new sensitive places on my body—inside the arm, a spot over my ribs, the back of my thigh. Everywhere his fingers glide, my body ignites.
The scent of blood jars me enough to realize I’m fisting my fingers enough to prick the skin with my nails.
Santiago gently smooths my fingers open.
He lets the water wash away the blood and then kisses the ache away.
He repeats the process on my other palm and sets my hands on the wall, fingers splayed.
“Keep them there,” he murmurs.
Firm hands glide over my legs and then he tugs them apart.
I have a flashback of Rafael going down on me in his shower, but it’s quickly replaced with reality when Santiago glides his fingers over my pussy.
He’s acting like we have all the time in the world, like there’s nothing to worry about, no reason to hurry.
Trembling, I stay in place, allowing him this. He needs it—I need it too. A moment to slow the spin of the world, to be grounded in the midst of all the changes.
“I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste,” he murmurs in my ear and brushes his lips over the arc. I tilt my head to the side, hoping he’ll do it again. And he does, slowly kissing the arch of my ear before nibbling the earlobe, all while his fingers whisper over my pussy.
I’m sure that by now, I’m leaking. Yet, I still don’t have it in me to push him, so I only whimper my pleas.
“Beautiful Samantha. I want to sink inside of you. Feel you coming around my cock, hear you scream, see the lost look in your eyes.”
“Please, please, please,” I chant, locked in place by need and the spell he’s woven for me.
“You’ll take whatever I give you.”
“Please, fuck me already. I’ll die if I don’t have your cock soon.”
He chuckles at that. “Oh, you’ll die, will you?”
“Asshole,” I growl and he presses tightly against my back, one hand wrapping around my throat. My pussy immediately floods at the feel of that possessive hold and I whimper.
“You are a brat, little fangs,” he whispers. “And I think you need to remember who’s in charge.”
“Who?” I gasp because I don’t have it in me to sass him further when his finger leisurely circles my clit.
“Me.”
I groan when his fingers lift from my pussy. I don’t expect the sharp tug on my nipple and I arch with a small cry. My hips thrust against his and my breast presses into his hand. My neck is perfectly arched for him to bite down.
Both of us freeze. Santiago’s hot breath puffs over my neck and he roughly palms my breast, making me grind against him.
“Bite.” I gasp, mindless with the need to feel him inside me. “Please, please, please.”
“Your pleading won’t hurry this along, beautiful,” he purrs.
“Lemon, please.” This time, I relax into his hold.
“What did you call me?”
“Lemon.”
“Why?”
“You smell like lemon-meringue pie to me. I don’t think I can scream that fluently when you fuck me.” I meant it to come out sassy, but I just sound breathy and so fucking needy.
“And what’s wrong with my name?” He sounds amused, but his hand drops back to my pussy.
A little growl slips free when my mind provides an answer to that question. “Other women have shouted that name.”
“Jealous, little fangs?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Good,” he growls right into my ear and plunges two fingers inside me. “Fuck, you are soaked. Will you be good and take my cock as nicely as you take my fingers?”
I crane my neck, instinctively offering it to him, but he doesn’t strike.
One moment, I’m standing, and the next, bent over as Santiago enters me from behind.
Despite being soaking wet, I feel stretched.
I don’t have enough air left to moan, so only desperate pants come out when I push back into him.
“That’s it. Does it feel good, beautiful?”
“Oh, fuck, yes. More.”
He flexes his hips, and I groan. Only his hold on my hips keeps me steady.
“Halfway there, little fangs.”
“Half?” I choke out. My pussy pulses. I feel so fucking full already.
“You can take it all. And when you do, you can scream whatever fucking name you want.” One hand moves to grasp my throat and pulls me up as the other one drops to torture my clit. The position is even harder, but he keeps flexing his hips and forcing more and more of his cock inside me.
“Monster cock,” I rasp, making him chuckle. “Fucking hunter.”
“You can come up with something better than that, brat.”
“Sadist.”
“Are you in pain?” He stops moving and I let out a desperate wail.
“Noooo! Don’t stop.”
“If you want it, stop complaining and take the monster cock you are so desperate for.”
“As apologies go, I’d say this leaves something to be desired,” I rasp.
“Oh, this is not the apology part.”
“It’s not?”
“No.” His hold on me changes and with one powerful thrust, he’s seated all the way inside me. I quiver. In fact, my entire body trembles at the feeling of him stretching me. I want him to move. I need him to move. I feel like his cock is the only thing keeping me standing.
When I’m sure I’m going to scream from frustration, he drops his hand to my pussy and circles my clit. “This is the apology.”
Howling against his hold on my throat, I come around his cock.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says and keeps circling my clit. I come again. And again. Or maybe I don’t stop coming.
Then he bends me forward again and begins to move. The rhythm he sets is a slow, tortuous movement in and out of my pussy. He is holding me up, his fingers digging into my hips, probably leaving marks. Those tiny flares of pain keep me from completely floating away.
Every thrust is accompanied by a growled, “I’m sorry.”
With every drag, his cock hits all the delicious spots deep inside, making me melt.
“More,” I beg and blessedly Santiago listens, increasing the power of his thrust. Slow pull out, hard, strong thrust back in. Again and again until I plead for more. In slow increments, his pace increases until I’m pushing back with my arms, every breath turning into a moan.
“That’s it. Good girl, let me hear you,” he purrs. When I whimper, he stops and pulls out. Before I have time to riot, he spins me around and hoists me up against the wall. His cock lines up with my pussy and then, slowly, he lets me slide down on it.
This time, I sink down with ease and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I’m completely at his mercy, held up by him, getting fucked by him, and when his dominance rolls over me this time, my brain shuts down.
I come.
Hard.
“Am I forgiven, little fangs?” he asks as he kisses my throat.
“Yes.” I don’t recognize the blissed-out voice that comes out of me.
“Thank you.”
“Mmh,” I hum.
“The only problem is… you didn’t scream my name when you came.”
“What?” I gasp.
“All I heard was, fuck, yes, more, please.”
He’s still hard inside of me, and a tingle of danger rouses me enough to open my eyes. A pair of green ones waits for me.
“Are you serious?”
He nods. “Very. I need you to come for me again.”
“I can’t,” I protest, weakly trying to pull away. Santiago changes his hold to my ass and hoists me up. “No!” I mewl just as he yanks me down. The stimulation makes my entire body arch and I hiss when my clit rubs against him.
“Yes, you can. You. Will. Come. For. Me.” Every word is coupled with a lift and pull down that makes me see stars. “Now,” he growls and bites my neck without breaking the skin.
I lose it. “Hunter!” I scream as the orgasm crashes, overpowering everything, rendering me a quivering mess. It keeps going and going, like every caress and climax from before was set up for this mindless pleasure.
Faintly, I think I hear Santiago shout his own release, but I can’t be sure. All I feel are the waves of burning pleasure running through my body.
When I start to return to myself, my mind working sluggishly, I realize I’m cradled in Rafael’s arms. In both of their arms. Santiago at my front and Rafael at my back. I’m still panting and making pleased purrs when they urge my lips to Rafael’s throat.
The instinct takes over and I bite down. With the first drop of blood on my tongue, I mewl. Sweet and tart, mixed with rich and dark, both of their tastes swirling on my tongue.
The punch of power and pleasure overrides everything and I come again. Shudders rake down my body. The edge of this orgasm is softened, sweet. Restoring. When it has run its course, I can feel my body again and my mind works. Sort of.
“Absolutely stunning,” Santiago says, kissing my shoulder.
“Mmh,” I manage to hum and reluctantly lick the bite mark closed on Rafael’s throat. I think I like seeing my bite marks on him.
“Stay with Santiago,” Rafael whispers. “Please. The pack is coming over soon and it would ease my mind if you stayed out of sight.”
“Rafael,” Santiago says, warning in his tone, although for what, I don’t know.
“All right,” I purr, moving my arms from Rafael’s neck and wrapping them around Santiago’s neck.
“Beautiful, you don’t—”
“It’s all right,” I say past a yawn. “Tired, satisfied. Not feeling angry.”
I’m not sure my words make any sense to them and I don’t care to reiterate. I feel good and relaxed right now. Seeing the pack, thinking about the dead wolf, will make all that go away. I just want to float for a moment longer.
“You’ll tell me everything. Later.”
“I will,” Rafael promises and kisses me hard before pulling back. I snuggle closer to Santiago and close my eyes. Sleep and fuck and feed.
That’s all I seem to be good for nowadays.