Chapter 27 Honest Visions
The moment that his mouth touched hers, her eyes closed and flashes of him doing this with someone else, the same picture that had been playing in her head bruising her heart over and over, made her tense, her hands still pushing at his hard chest.
But then when she didn't kiss him back, he felt her body unflinchingly rigid, he softened the kiss, his warm lips brushing against hers in a question.
"Let me in, love," he whispered darkly and whatever drug was in his voice, in his kiss was warring with the images in her mind.
With what he had done.
"We'll talk," he murmured, nipping at her bottom lip, making her heart jump.
"But I want to show you somethin'." His strong hands running over her back and the side of her ribcage were confusing her.
He pulled back and waited until she opened her eyes to see him staring down at her.
"Close your eyes, and let me," he commanded gently as his hand tipped up her chin.
She took one moment, one moment to consider.
But the way that she felt in his arms, the safety, the warmth, the excitement had pushed out everything else.
And the way that he looked at her like he needed her to comply, needed her to give him this moment, it was enough for her to close her eyes, and lean into the hand cradling her face.
She nodded.
And she heard his whispered curse before he was taking her mouth again. This time, she opened for him and he swept in, tasting her, groaning as he did before he crushed her against him like he couldn't get her close enough.
He tasted like secrets and dark chocolate.
He felt like he was made for her body to be crushed against him like this, his lines and hard edges matching perfectly with where she dipped and flared.
And then, just as before, the image of him kissing Astra popped in her head but when she stiffened, the pad of his thumb ran over the sensitive skin on her neck holding in her pulse, and that image suddenly changed.
It was like someone had changed the channel and instead of Astra in his arms in an amorous embrace, he was standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest as she spoke to him before he cut her off and said something that her mind could not hear, but whatever it was made the woman step back in shock.
He pointed. She looked shaken. And then both heads turned to where Tilly knew she had then made herself known, walking across the street to confront them.
To yell at him.
Astra's cat-like smile.
It hit her then. The envelope she opened just before with the latin words and the odd feeling that had overcome her.
It hadn't been real. What she had seen had been magic. She knew that as honestly as she knew that he wouldn't do that to her.
So when Theo bit her lower lip, sucking on it gently she released her fears, released holding herself back and she gave in.
Her fingers dug into his hard chest before they slid up the sides of his warm neck into his thick hair, pressing her smaller body up into his in a answer to his beg for possession.
When that pulled a groan from somewhere in the back of his throat that she felt throughout her entire body, she lightly tugged on the strands of his hair.
His answering low growl made something curl in her lower belly. She hadn't felt this out of control ever. She'd never been out of control like this.
He pulled his mouth from hers, their harsh breaths colliding against each other and she made a sad sound which made him grin down at her.
"I need to taste you," he said and her eyes widened.
"You," she pulled in a shaky breath, "you want to, like my blood?"
His eyebrows moved up the slightest, that grin lifting higher on one side as his eyes roved her face. It was devastating making a man this stoic smile at you like that. Like she had magic for him.
"Yes. But no," he finally answered. His own breaths matched hers.
She shook her head in confusion. "I," she bit her lip, worrying the kiss-swollen skin between her teeth as she toyed with her shyness. "I would let you."
Now his grin was sharp and wolfish, something flashed in his eyes, something secret and delicious and she was certain he had magic too because parts of her responded to him that she didn't know could be controlled like this.
"You do not know how much agony your willingness is putting me in, but I meant a different kind of tasting."
Before she could voice her confusion further he swept her up into his arms and started walking through the woods. The sudden movement made her gasp, throwing her arms around his neck and laugh.
"What are you doing? Where are we going?"
"My house," was his simple, gruff reply.
He was no longer grinning. He had a hard determined look on his face and she ran her fingertips lightly over the straight line of his nose and over his high cheekbone to brush over his lips where the pad of her thumb wedged between the seam slightly until she felt something sharp.
His head turned to look at her with a dark look, black more than chocolate brown now. He gave her a warning growl and she smiled at him, suddenly feeling very not shy and very brave instead.
"Is that your agony growling at me, chief vampire?"
"If you keep teasin', we won't make it to my house." He turned his face back to focus on where he was carrying her and she bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile as she did it again. She ran her finger between his lips to touch his sharp teeth.
"Are these called fangs?"
He abruptly stopped walking and she wondered for one moment if she had miscalculated as he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, his body so still she didn't breathe herself. Maybe touching his teeth was against vampire ettiquete. She should have asked.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should have asked you before I touched them," she pulled her hand away, feeling ashamed, her cheeks lighting with that embarrassed heat. He grabbed her retreated hand in one of his fists holding her wrist somehow both gently but firmly.
"You can touch them. I want you to," he rumbled out. "But I have to apologize now."
"For what?"
"We're not going to make it to my house." And then in a swift move she was on the ground, something soft padding her shoulders as he slid down her body, his large hands pushing the red nightgown up her thighs, his mouth up the skin as he uncovered it.
She watched him, her eyes taking in his large form as he kneeled between her legs, hooking them over his shoulders and shoving his hands beneath her hips and jerking her up until she was tilted. She gasped, losing her balance as she fell back onto the soft ground.
The first thing she felt was cool air on her bare skin just before his mouth didn't waste time teasing her. He dove in.
And his mouth was hot-hotter than it had been when he was kissing her. It felt like a brand on her tender skin, not burning in pain but branding her still.
She cried out, her eyes closing at the intensity. His tongue licked expertly, learning her, tasting, savoring.
She felt savored.
She felt adored when he hummed deep, the sound vibrating against where she was the most sensitive.
"Give me your eyes, love."
She opened them at his command and looked down at him watching her, his eyes pure black. It was a moment of connection, she felt a tie knot between them as he stared at her, her heart beating and fluttering, her body aching. And then he went back to devouring.
She watched, something she'd never done before and it was a whole other sense that she could barely contain as she watched him grip her thighs and give her one, long lick making her moan again.
Then he pulled back, his head tilted as he brushed a thumb over the thin skin on the inside of her right thigh before he dove down and latched his mouth there, and her hands grabbed onto grass and plants as she braced herself to feel his fangs pierce her skin.
But it didn't come and she was a little disappointed until he sucked that spot hard, pulling on another string inside of her, making her press the back of her hand against her mouth at the pleasure. That felt amazing.
But watching him study his work on her thigh, to watch his face fill with pleasure at the possession made something dip inside of her.
She felt high, a lightness and languid feeling that was warm. It intensified when he rose up over her, staring down into her eyes with that look as he ran the backs of his fingers over the apple of her cheek, which she could feel was flushed pink.
"I pictured what you would look like just this way, with me filling your body and mind with desire and with the drunkenness of near-pleasure.
I imagined you looking up at me this way.
" His fingers gently ran down the side of her neck to where her lifesource pulsed.
She felt a jump there, as his fingertips kissed the delicate skin. Something inside of her called to him.
Or he to her.
She did feel drunk on near-pleasure and she had little filter.
"I want you to," she said and his eyes shot from where he touched her neck to her eyes.
"You want me to what?" He asked it carefully, slowly. His eyes dared her and also hoped.
When she didn't answer him he dipped down, running the tip of his nose along the skin there making her open her mouth, her body tilting up to him in response.
"Say it," he whispered darkly, his teeth lightly scraping making her gasp and dig her fingernails into his back.
Her robe was splayed open and her white nightgown was pushed up to her waist, her underwear having been taken off and discarded and held himself above her with inches between their bodies. Too much space. She needed to feel him, to feel his solidness against her.
"Bite my neck," she finally got out. It was quietly said, unsure how she should say it or ask, hoping she didn't do it wrong.
But there was clearly nothing wrong with what she said because he groaned, dropping the weight of him down into her, all of his hardness pressed into all of her and it was sublime.