Chapter 38
Laurie
That small admission was all it took to open the floodgates. I didn’t think about the consequences, or what this would change between us. I didn’t think about anything past those ochre eyes. I fell right into those dark irises, gasping in one final breath before taking the dive.
Mine.
I gripped River’s face in both hands, every single one of my synapses firing off like lightning, and surged into her, crushing my lips to hers. The taste of her was everything I craved and more, and I chased it with a feral, desperate hunger.
River’s arms locked around my waist, pulling me flush.
She kissed back, kissed me breathless—until my lungs burned and I gasped for air between the punishing press of her lips on mine.
Even then, I couldn’t stop; my fingers threaded through her hair, I went weak in the knees, my whole body trembling with adrenaline.
I was lost to it, drowning in the sensation of her tongue sliding along mine. That distinct scent of hers—old books and fresh rain—wrapped around me, and I gripped her tighter. River’s mouth was ravishing, hungry like she wanted all of me in one bite.
Then she broke the kiss abruptly and I whined my complaint—only for her to whisper, “Hold on. We need something more comfortable than these musty carpets.”
A sly, fanged smile broke out on her face, and I was too steeped in euphoria to feel frightened by it.
A surprised, strangled noise escaped my throat as she scooped me up bridal-style.
We were down the hall before I could blink, and her room swallowed us whole.
I caught the briefest glimpse of a vaulted ceiling, deep red drapes, a bed sized for a minor royal court.
River set me on the mattress like I was made of glass, then crawled up beside me, returning to my lips before gravity had time to reassert itself. This kiss was slower, searching, offering me ample time to acclimatize to the new sensation—to the molten heat pooling low in my belly.
When I pressed a hand to her chest, River lay on her back and let me explore freely.
I straddled her torso, well past the point of feeling embarrassed, and bent down to brush my lips along the pale column of her throat.
She shivered beneath me, back arching ever so slightly off the bed, and it sent a thrill through my own body.
It felt strange, knowing I had this kind of power over her, that the slightest touch of my lips to her throat could get her pulse fluttering wild and frantic.
I spared a fraction of a moment to look at her; I took in the way she drew her bottom lip between her pointed teeth, the way she gazed back at me under heavy-lidded eyes.
My heart was slamming against my ribs but I kissed her slow, keeping my own eyes open until the very last second, until my lips were flush against hers.
I lost track of minutes, indulging in slow kisses, curious fingers tracing her jawline and collarbone. Every slight touch coaxed a new sound from her, and I kept up my exploration until pure lightheadedness forced me to pull back.
River’s fingers rose to comb through my hair and I lay panting against her chest, mildly upset at my own very human need for oxygen keeping me from kissing her forever.
“Laurie?”
I felt her intake of breath under my cheek and lifted my head. “Yeah?”
River peered down at me, one hand still petting my hair, the other sliding over my back, tracing the light ridges of my spine.
“Before this goes any further—” she paused, chewing on her lip.
I’d never seen River look nervous before.
“If this goes any further. You’ve got to tell me what’s okay and what isn’t. ”
I lifted myself higher and crooked a brow, confused. “What do you mean?”
That desperate, wanting need was still pulsing between my legs, clouding my mind and turning her words to vapor—in one ear and out the other. All I knew was that I wanted her. All of her.
“You know, like… boundaries?” River brushed a stray lock behind my ear. “What feels safe, and what doesn’t.”
I stared at her. Mortification flared in my chest—because I had no idea what she was talking about.
I was suddenly, painfully, and shamefully aware of how out of my depth I was. I had no idea what I was doing, no past experience to speak of. Heat rose in my cheeks and I fell back on my usual defenses when facing the unknown.
My hackles raised and my words snapped out like a whip crack. “I don’t know! I’ve never done this before!”
Maybe it showed. Maybe she didn’t like that. Hell, she was a vampire with centuries of experience. What could I possibly offer her that she hadn’t had already? I was a novice, inexperienced, fucking broken if I was being completely honest with myself.
Laurie, you’re such an idiot. Who was I trying to fool? I was nothing to her, nothing at all. Whatever spark I’d felt between us had to be one sided because why the hell would she—this gorgeous, charismatic creature of the night—want anything to do with someone like me?
“I should… this was a mistake.” I rolled off her, suddenly unsure of myself, floundering and fumbling and mentally berating myself for having the audacity to assume there was anything special between us.
I almost made it to the edge of the bed, but River followed—gently pinning me with a palm flat over my racing heart.
“Hey,” she whispered, eyes luminous in the moonlight, “it’s okay. You don’t have to bolt.”
I flopped down on my back and stared at the ceiling, cheeks on fire, scowling like I always did when I didn’t know what else to do. “I’m… not exactly a seasoned pro. I don’t know how to—”
“Stop.” Her thumb brushed slow circles through the fabric of my shirt. “Laurie, I’m not here for experience points. I just want you… And only if you want me back.”
I swallowed. The room felt too quiet, too intimate. My default defense—snark and sarcasm—itched to surface, so I let the sneer form, hoping it hid how close I was to shaking.
River’s sigh rustled in my ear. “Laurie, are you a virgin?”
Heat flooded every inch of my skin. I looked away, muttering, “Is it that obvious?”
“That’s fine. We can figure it out together. There’s no rush.” Her hand slipped to my cheek, urging me to face her. I let her turn my head until our eyes met. “We go at your pace.”
Then she kissed me—slow, unhurried, a patient invitation. Her palm stayed over my heart, and after a few stunned seconds, I felt it: my pulse slowing, the rapid beat evening under her fingers.
“Tell me what feels good,” she murmured, breath hot and languid against my mouth.
The vulnerability of that request had the knot of unease uncoiling inside me. “This… This feels good,” I admitted, voice smaller than I liked, but it couldn’t be helped. River’s presence was bigger than the room, all encompassing. Everything else paled in comparison.
“Then we start here.” She leaned in again, lips grazing mine, featherlight. When she pulled away I chased her mouth, regaining confidence as hot magma seeped into my veins, reigniting that fire burning away in the deepest confines of my body.
Her fingertips skimmed beneath the hem of my shirt, skating an electric path across my bare stomach. I flinched—not from fear, but from sudden, blazing awareness.
She paused, searching my face. “Still okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and kissed her again, a little bolder this time. Her hands stayed, mapping slow circles over skin no one had touched with such tenderness before.
Between breaths—awkward, gasping, and downright wonderful in my humble opinion—River pulled back, lips brushing my jaw. “Can I ask you something?”
“M-mm.” I wasn’t sure if it was permission or a sound of salacious need.
She hesitated. “If you had a… child… how are you still—?”
The question lodged somewhere between clinical curiosity and gentle caution, and my hand moved instinctively to the C-section scar below my navel. River’s hand followed and her eyes flared in sudden shock when the pads of her fingers brushed the faint ridges in otherwise smooth skin.
“It was artificial insemination,” I murmured, defaulting to textbook cadence. “Embryo implantation, rapid gestational protocol, surgical extraction at thirty-two weeks. No penetrative intercourse required.” The words tumbled out sterile and rehearsed, like reciting from a lab manual.
River’s brows lifted. “They… grew you a glossary as well as a baby.”
I gave a brittle shrug. “Picked up the terms while they monitored me. Easier to cope if I treated it like I was studying for an exam.”
Her eyes softened with an ache so fierce I had to look away. But River tipped my chin back, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“Well… Thank you for telling me,” she whispered against my skin. Then she was quiet for a beat, lips hovering over mine. Her next words were a low murmur, laden with melancholy that made my heart ache. “I’m sorry they turned something so sacred into something else.”
A tremor rippled through me—anger, grief, relief, I wasn’t sure. River waited, hand warm over my scar until the tightness eased.
I looked into her eyes, wishing for the hundredth time tonight that we’d met under different circumstances.
Wishing that I’d lived a normal life, not one steeped in loss and misery.
Maybe then I’d be less fragile, less broken.
Easier for her to hold without pricking her finger on jagged edges.
But there was no alternate timeline, this was all I was and all I could offer her.
And she was willing to hold me anyway.
I let out a breath, a long slow exhale, and relaxed under her touch.
River watched the motion, eyes tracking every slight twitch of my face, tense until she saw the permission offered in my eyes.
Then she slid her fingers higher, dancing along my rib cage, coaxing a gasp from my lips when she reached bare breast, soft fingers kneading into softer flesh.