Chapter Fifteen
New Year’s Resolution Number Fifteen: Live happily ever freaking after.
“So…” Lark stood in the middle of Devereaux’s bedroom. Candles had been lit all around the room, and their soft light filled the space. “How does this work?”
A table had been set up in the middle of the room. Two knives were on that table. Very sharp knives.
She was glad they weren’t doing this ceremony in front of an audience. She just wanted to be with Devereaux, and she was so nervous that her knees were knocking together. “Will it hurt?”
He was still holding her hand, and he brought her fingers to his lips. Devereaux pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “Only the tiniest bit.”
Okay. She glanced at the knives again. “Can’t we just bite? I mean, do we have to use the knives?”
He led her to the table. “Pick up your weapon.”
Weapon. “It makes it sound like we’re going into battle. Not bonding.”
“That’s how the bonding started. Warring vamp kingdoms found peace when they used their weapons not for death, but for life.”
He let go of her hand and picked up his knife.
She picked up her weapon, too. The hilt was lined with diamonds.
“I, Devereaux Mancini, swear to dedicate my life to you.”
She looked up. His eyes were on hers. He was staring at her as if she was his entire world. A lump rose in Lark’s throat.
“I will live for you, I will die for you, and I will spend every day and night working to make you happy. You are the blood in my veins…” He pricked his left index finger with the tip of the knife. “And the light in my soul.”
Oh, that was sweet.
“Now it’s your turn.” He nodded toward her.
“Do I say the same things?” There really should have been a guide for this. A little how-to prep.
He flashed his dimples at her. “You say your name, and then you say anything you want. But you have to prick your finger with the knife. The knives are enchanted, and you’ll feel their magic soon enough.”
Enchanted knives. Of course, because why not? Well, the magic at least explained why they used the blades instead of just biting. She inhaled deeply and slowly let out her breath. What am I supposed to say?
Yet as she stared into Devereaux’s eyes, Lark just knew. “I, Lark Kinsley, swear to dedicate my life to you.” Her hold on the knife tightened. “I will love you, and I will fight for you, and I will stand beside you as we face each day and each night.”
His smile stretched.
“I will be charmed by you. I will charm you. And I will not let anything or anyone come between us. You are the passion in my blood.” She pricked her fingertip, and as he’d said, it hurt, a bit. “And you are the happiness that slipped into my heart when I least expected it.”
He put down his knife.
Fumbling, she did the same.
“Now what?” Lark whispered. Whispered, even though they were alone in the room.
“We mix our blood. Just a drop. That’s all the binding ceremony needs. The magic came when we made the cut.” He lifted his hand toward her. She lifted hers toward him.
Their index fingers touched and she felt him.
Felt his warmth and strength surge through her. Felt his power and his need and his hunger. But more than anything, she felt his love sweep through her. Pure and powerful and so deep.
She lost her breath as her heart raced. Her entire body seemed to glow and for just an instant, she wasn’t Lark any longer.
They were one. They were bonded. Together.
He leaned forward. “Forever,” Devereaux promised as his lips hovered over hers.
“Forever,” she told him.
They kissed. She hadn’t thought it was possible to taste love, but right then, she did. It was sweet. So sweet.
He slowly pulled back.
She stopped feeling him inside of her. Within her. And she hated the loss. A gasp escaped her.
“I’ll always be here, sweetheart. I promise.” His hand cupped her face.
She knew that he would be. “What’s next?”
“Any fucking thing we want.”
A soft laugh slipped from her. Then he was kissing her. She was kissing him. He pulled her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She realized that she could still feel a part of him, inside herself. A warmth in her heart.
Love. His love.
And she knew he felt her love, too.
His touch was careful on her. Gentle and tender as he stroked every single inch of her body.
First with his fingers, then with his mouth.
He licked her breasts, sucked her nipples, and had her moaning and arching against him.
Down, down he went, his fingers gliding over her skin.
Increasing her desire as he spread her legs and eased between them.
She looked at him. Broad shoulders. Dark head. He bent to her sex and kissed her. Licked her. Stroked her with his tongue and his fingers. Her head tipped back as her whole body tightened.
Any fucking thing we want.
The first climax hit her as he worked her with his mouth. She cried out and arched her hips against him. He licked and sucked and drove his fingers into her as she came, heightening her pleasure.
Before the aftershocks had even stopped, he plunged into her, filling her with his heavy cock. Thrusting so deep. Her legs locked around him, and she turned her head to the side, offering her neck, wanting his bite.
She’d always want him.
Their fingers laced together. In and out, he pounded into her, and her eager sex clamped greedily around him. Over and over.
His fangs sank into her neck.
Pleasure erupted, and she screamed his name.
He kept plunging into her as she rode out her second climax.
Then she was pushing Devereaux onto his back. Keeping him inside her but moving so that she was on top. Her knees were on either side of his body. Her hands flat on his chest. He was lodged fully inside of her. Deep and thick.
“Sweetheart, I am so close—”
Lark bit him. She sank her fangs into his neck and shoved her hips down against him. When he came, he roared her name.
And she didn’t care who heard them.
They were bonded, they were mated, and they’d be together forever.
Her breathing heaved out as her heart raced. She licked his neck, catching the drops of blood there, savoring them, and then her head lifted so that she could stare into his eyes.
Her vampire.
“I think the after party can wait a while,” Lark told him. Any fucking thing we want. “Because I want more of you.”
His laughter rumbled in his chest. “Love, I’m yours…”
Yes, he was.
Just as she belonged to him.
“Ready for another round?” Devereaux growled.
New Year’s Resolution Number One: Don’t be afraid to say…yes.
She stared into his eyes. “Yes.”
The End