Chapter 7
7
Gatlin
“ S o I wasn’t imagining it; you have been avoiding this. Why won’t you feed from me, Palmer?” I asked, confused.
She fidgeted, and I had to tamp down my reaction to having this admittedly beautiful woman sitting on my lap. Who I put there even though there are miles of couch on either side of me.
I gave in to the moment, my hand leaving her chin and sliding up the smooth skin of her jaw. I knew she was glamoured to look a certain way, but the skin I could feel was real, and it was soft to the touch.
I stroked my thumb along her cheekbone. “It doesn’t bother me,” I admitted.
The small sips she had taken to get me used to her feeding were gentle and felt like someone was giving me a back rub or playing with my hair. I understood the sensation would change the longer she fed, but I wasn’t worried.
I trusted her, I realized. Maybe it had started with those six weeks of care she willingly gave my sister before we bonded, or perhaps it was when she let herself be vulnerable in front of me that one night at dinner last week. It didn’t matter when it happened. It had.
She sighed. “We’ve made such headway, I didn’t want you to look––it’s silly.”
My eyes searched hers. “I was upset with myself at first. I shouldn’t like it when a monster feeds from me.”
Palmer flinched.
I brought my hand down to the back of her neck. “But you kept coming back and being kind to me even though I was less than polite. My mother would whoop my ass for how I’ve been behaving. You were literally saving my sister’s life, and all I could fixate on were my preconceived notions of what I perceived a monster to be.”
Her eyes continued to search mine while I massaged the back of her neck and shared with her my guilt and no small amount of shame. “Still, you were kind to me even though I honestly didn't deserve it. I tried to hold onto this idea of what a monster was. At every interaction, you obliterated prejudices I didn't know I had. You took the time to help me understand how your world works; you shared your people’s history, giving me access to information from your library and beings around me. You granted me so much grace. I've realized just because you feed differently than I do, it doesn’t make you monstrous. That was what I was actually afraid of, being locked in a contract with something evil. You are the farthest thing from evil. I am sorry I made you feel like you should be ashamed of who and what you are.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she relaxed into my touch.
“Someday, I’d like to paint you, Palmer,” I said quietly. “All of you, if that’s allowed. I’ve been studying your eyes; they are the real deal, aren’t they?” I pulled her closer, my other hand on her lower back.
I need to know they are truly hers, that what I am seeing in them is real.
“I didn’t see the reason to pay extra to change my eye color,” she murmured as my hand rose to the back of her head, kneading the muscles there.
“Your eyes were what first drew me in, more than your perfect glamour,” I whispered, watching her open her eyes, the silver irises beautiful in the light. I hadn’t noticed the gold that shot through the center; I hadn’t let myself get close enough.
“You say the most dangerous things, pet,” she murmured, leaning down and kissing me.
Pleasure coursed through my system. I knew what the draw of her taking lifeforce felt like, and she wasn’t doing that. This was my authentic reaction to the woman in my lap. I pulled her closer, taking over the kiss, and her hands clutched at the fabric of my shirt.
I bit her bottom lip, causing her to growl, lust punching me in the gut at the sound. I leaned back, panting, “Feed from me, Palmer. Make me feel good.”
She whimpered when I captured her lips, kissing her deeply. As our tongues battled for dominance, I felt the first tug on my lifeforce. Her breasts rubbed against my chest, reminding me there was more than just her mouth to explore. I fought to keep my arousal under control, but with my throbbing cock locked between us, held back by nothing more substantial than my slacks, it was challenging to keep this as only a kiss. The urge to pull up her ridiculously tiny leather top and free her breasts for me to taste was riding me almost as hard as what my brain wanted her to really ride.
Palmer moaned while her hands slid up my pecs, pushing me back gently as our kisses began to shorten. Finally, we stopped, our foreheads resting on one another, breaths mingling.
“That was, wow,” I murmured, kissing her again.
“I— I didn't mean to go so far,” she stammered, her breath hitching as I kissed up her jaw.
I bit her ear gently, her gasp making my dick jump. “I’m not complaining.”
She laughed, the throaty, sensual sound causing me to remember with clarity the very big empty bed to my right.
Slow down, man.
Palmer’s hand traced the side of my face. “The lust should wane within the next few hours; I’m sorry I came on so strong. I don’t usually do the exchange quite like this.”
“Selfishly, I am glad to hear that,” I rumbled, my eyes locking with her steely orbs.
She wrinkled her nose at me playfully. “You are bonded to me, so you have that right, I suppose.”
I made a sound of agreement. “That reminds me.” I shifted. Palmer made the move to stand, and I felt a wave of irrational anger at the thought of her leaving me. I blamed the extra dose of lust when I wrapped my arms around her, encouraging her to stay.
She sighed, laying her head on my shoulder. “What reminds you?”
“Why is everyone calling me Mr. Duvall? Shouldn’t they be calling you Mrs. Rose?” I asked, leaning into this new possessive feeling.
“It’s a Boo Hag proclivity. Well, a lot of monsters who form bonds are from matriarchal societies, so I suppose it's also a monster trait. My name is Merewynn Palmer Ruth Fortunato Duvall––Fortunato is my father’s last name. Duvall is the name my Boo Hag family adopted when we lived in Europe. Because you are bonded to me, you take my last name.” She played with my lapel. “It's only temporary, Gatlin.”
I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat. “Have you eaten enough tonight?”
I felt her kiss the underside of my chin, her breath warm against my skin. “Yes, thank you. I feel a lot better.”
“Do you want to go home, er, to the estate?” I asked, feeling my ears heat at my slip.
Palmer shifted, reaching for her phone, amusement glittering in her eyes. “Yes, let's go back to the estate.”
She climbed from my lap, holding out a hand to help me rise. I stood, and Palmer’s eyes widened before she whirled around. I adjusted my pants to better hide the obvious tenting in my slacks. I couldn’t blame Palmer‘s magic for all of the lust running through my body.
I walked around her, my hand skimming the skin of her lower back and coming to rest there. “I should have said earlier, you look fucking fantastic this evening.”
“I know,” she said, sounding pleased.
We walked together through the hallway past a smirking Sydney, the haint who had shown me every single VIP room with glee on my first visit to the VIP seating area. Drake met us at the stairs and escorted us around the dance floor and out the side entrance by the bar. Back through the stockroom we went, then exited out the side into an alley. There, Isaac waited with the door already open to Palmer’s black SUV.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
I lifted my hand from her back, encouraging her to slide in first. Once situated in the back seat, I noticed she had left a large gap between us.
“I stole your Harley. I have my motorcycle license.” I felt the anger rise again at the thought of Attwater’s hands on her. “I don’t regret stealing the keys.”
“They are your keys too, Gatlin. What is mine is yours,” she replied, turning towards the window.
Isaac looked back at me, and I nodded my thanks. He left the garage unlocked tonight, I assume on purpose, giving me the ability to steal the Harley in the first place.
“You told me not to wander off the estate, but your wolves must have realized what I was doing because the whole pack flanked me until I was out of the reserve,” I assured her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful.”
“But you’re not sorry for endangering yourself in the club?” she questioned, still looking out that damn window.
“No.” Done with the distance I knew I had created, I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her body to mine. “It's not just the lust, Palmer,” I murmured.
I looked down at her and watched a smile play across her lips as she settled onto my chest for the ride back to her estate.
Hours later, I stood in my bedroom looking out the window over the moonlit hedge maze. I was still thinking about the night’s events. After we got home, Palmer and I said goodnight. I tugged her into a hug, and though it was quiet, I heard her sigh before letting me go.
I’ve thought she was touch-oriented from the start. She’ll probably never ask for it, but she wants affection. I can give her affection, hell I miss–– When was the last time I had a beautiful woman on my lap?
I walked away from the window, letting the curtain fall back, cutting off the moonlight. I undressed, throwing my shirt into the hamper, followed by my slacks. My erection was still going strong. Part of it was giving her the lifeforce earlier, but I was man enough to admit that damn outfit was the other part. The way the leather caressed her body––
I shucked my boxer briefs, taking my cock in hand and giving it a stroke as I walked into my bathroom. I hit the lights, then hit the switch to turn on the shower and adjusted the water temperature to hot.
My mind fixated on the tight leather outfit she wore and the way she felt on my lap, pre-come leaking from the tip as I finally got under the shower’s spray. I replayed in my mind the way she felt on my lap, how her breasts felt against my chest.
Lust continued to throb throughout my body as I worked myself tip to root and back, squeezing my shaft roughly. Then I fantasized about things that didn’t happen, like her on her knees looking up at me with those beautiful silver eyes, her deep red lips surrounding my shaft, her long black hair wrapped around my hand as I fed her my cock.
Pleasure built along my back, condensing in my spine as I imagined hitting the back of her throat, and I wondered what it would feel like to come in her hot, velvety mouth.
That thought sent me over the edge. With a grunt, I orgasmed, my release shooting against the wall of my shower, my vision going gray at the edges.
I leaned against the wall, my cock at half-mast already, and I could tell it would be a while before I fully worked through the desire.