Chapter 30 #2
He’d done that to her. His choices, his arrogance, his miscalculation had marked her forever. Each time he saw it would be a reminder that she bore the consequences of his failures burned into her very flesh.
He almost stood. Almost fled. He didn’t deserve this—any of it. Her. What she was giving him.
“Laurie, please,” she breathed, watching him fixate on the brand. As if she feared he might stop.
“I…” Words failed. How could he lay claim to her after what he’d done? He didn’t deserve so much as to touch her, to be in her presence, to look at her.
“Laurie…” Her voice cracked. “Please.”
The sound of his nickname on her lips—only her lips, because he’d never allow anyone else to use it—was his undoing. His chest expanded. He would make it right. He would worship her, give her whatever she wanted. He’d crawl on his hands and knees if that’s what she wished.
Her thighs rubbed together, eyes still fixed on him.
The only fear in her gaze was a fear that he might stop, a fear that he might leave her aching.
The scent of her arousal, unchecked, swept over him.
He groaned. His entire body began to change.
His control frayed. He separated her thighs, buried his face between them, dragging the scent of her in.
Her sharp inhale turned him wild.
His tongue darted out, tasting. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck.” The salty taste of her sharpened his senses. So much to explore, he couldn’t decide what to do first.
He lifted her leg and braced it over his shoulder, holding her in place.
Blood was the farthest thing from his mind as he began lapping at her core, sucking on her clit, sinking his tongue into her entrance.
He listened to the little sounds she made, using them to guide him.
Her hips bucked, pressing harder against his mouth.
He groaned, trying to ignore the painful ache of his cock pressing against the zipper of his pants. He palmed himself through the fabric, searching for relief.
Lily let out a mewl. He smelled the heightening of her arousal seconds before she came on his tongue, flooding his senses. He nearly came with her. Instead, he ripped his face away and scooped her up. He needed more—so much more.
His selfishness won.
He set her on the bed and began with the buttons of his shirt.
Their eyes locked, and he wondered if she could resist looking at the rest of him.
He caught the moment she lost the battle, when he ripped his shirt away and tackled the button of his jeans, slipping them down along with his briefs.
Her gaze raked over him, landing on his cock.
He stilled, taking in the expression parting her lips. Her attention was everything. He’d never get enough of it.
“I don’t think…”
The sight of her throat bobbing, her chest heaving, breasts straining against the lace of her bra made him take a step forward. He needed them free, needed her nipples in his mouth. “Don’t think what?” he managed.
“Will you fit? In me, I mean?” Her cheeks immediately flushed. He felt the surge of her blood calling to him. He ignored it, instead fantasizing over the warm heat his body craved. His eyes dipped to the apex of her thighs, squeezed tight.
“I’ll fit,” he said, bearing down on her.
He scooped her up and positioned her on his lap, straddling him on the edge of the bed. Day after day of endless fantasies had led to this moment—he wanted her first like this, riding his cock, in control.
He captured her lips, cupping the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. He moved to the side of her mouth, to her jaw, nipping at the lobe of her ear. She sighed, hips grinding against him. The feel of her wet heat rubbing along the length of his cock was bliss.
His own voice betrayed him with a needy sound—one he wasn’t sure he’d ever made, not even for blood.
He latched on to her throat, but didn’t break the skin.
Not this time. Not their first time. He wanted her to know what this was.
That he wanted her flesh just as much as her blood, that her body and soul were just as important to him.
Because somewhere along the way, things had changed.
“Bite me,” she breathed, as if sensing his struggle.
“No.” His words were rough. “Not yet. Later.”
Her mewing protest had his balls tightening.
He snapped the clasp on her back, freeing her breasts, leaning in to take a nipple in his mouth.
His hand worked the other, pinching and tugging, listening to her respond.
He tested her limits, applying pressure until she cried out.
He grew bolder, nipping, inflicting little bites that didn’t break the skin.
He searched for her threshold, waiting for her to command him, to tell him to stop.
The command never came. That only worked him into a frenzy.
He groaned, his frustration overcoming all else.
He lifted her hips, placing the head of his cock at her entrance.
Then he slid her down onto him. Every nerve ending in his body zeroed in on the place of their contact.
The liquid heat wrapping around him as he sheathed himself.
Their voices mingled. Her wetness pulled him in, until he was buried. They both fell still.
“Oh, Laurie.”
His breath was a shaky exhale. He stared at her, their eyes locked. Time seemed to stop, like it was lost and had forgotten where to go. Or maybe that was just him. He flexed his fingers, gripping her hips, then began to rock her against him.
They breathed together, his chest rising and falling as quickly as hers. Sometimes her eyes darted over him, like she couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt the same.
“How are you so fucking tight?” he groaned.
“Laurie,” she whispered. Just his name. So much spoken in that single word.
He released her and said, “You’re going to ride me, sweetheart. You’re going to fuck me at your own pace, understand?” Confusion crept into her gaze. “What’s the matter?”
“You… You really want to do it like this?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He frowned.
“I just thought…”
His stomach dropped. “What did you see?”
“I just… I just know you don’t like to do it facing…facing whoever you’re doing it with.” A flush climbed her throat, as if it embarrassed her to voice this.
“Fuck!” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Realization filled him, followed immediately by revulsion—not at her knowledge, but at himself.
At the memories she now carried of his emotional detachment.
“Whatever you saw, that’s not us. Understand?
I want to see your face, Lily. Every minute of it.
I want your attention on me. I want you watching me when you see how your cunt wrecks me.
And I want to look into your eyes when you come knowing it’s me making you feel good. ”
Her lips parted.
“Now. Ride me.”
She nodded, still wrapped up in her surprise, then gripped his shoulders and rocked her hips.
Sensation shot straight up his spine. His hands circled her waist, thumbs stroking her skin, relishing in the feel of her moving over him, the shift of her body riding him.
The way her cunt gripped him. “Yes,” he praised. “Yes.”
Her pulse came faster, the smell of her arousal drenching the sweet scent of her. He groaned, his gaze locked on her face. Her eyes were wide and focused, lips parted with pleasure.
She glanced down and he followed her gaze. The sight was enough to destroy him. “How perfect you look when I’m inside you,” he breathed. “I was always meant to be here, right here.” He pressed his fingers to her clit, circling the tight bundle of nerves until she cried out, her head lolling back.
“Look at me, little flower. Only me,” he begged.
She straightened, opening her eyes to gaze at him.
Whatever passed between them strangled him.
Deep and fathomless. A connection that dug into his soul, fusing hers to his.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of his chest, something cracked open—a place that had been sealed shut for so long he’d forgotten it existed.
He shuddered against it, against the pain and pleasure and recognition.
An emotion he didn’t recognize—hadn’t known for millennia.
Not even in those few miserable years of his human life.
Her cunt tightened around him, squeezing his cock in the best way.
His teeth clamped tight, until he could no longer stop the cry that tore from his lips.
His cock hardened impossibly at the feel of her relentless, wild grinding.
Black hair fell around her shoulders, contrasting her pale skin, framing her beautiful, soft face.
He swept it back, wrapping it around his fist, holding it there out of the way for her as she took her pleasure.
Took and took and took while he willingly gave.
Her face transformed, pleasure drenched and beautiful, repeating his name. He growled as she came, a soft, surprised cry parting her lips. He’d never seen anything so perfect, never would again.
He whispered her name, following her over the edge as he shattered apart, staring widely into her eyes mirroring his own shock. His cock spasmed, pulling another cry from his lips. He emptied into her, letting her see everything in his expression.
“Oh,” she whispered, eyes darting between his.
He couldn’t breathe—didn’t need to, but still, he couldn’t.
He pulled her forehead against his and let their breaths mingle.
“Lily,” he whispered. “Little flower. You perfect creature. You wretched, perfect creature. What have you done to me?” Words, unfiltered, poured from his lips.
At some point, his language changed, switching to Italian, words of worship and devotion he’d never spoken to another soul pouring from his lips.
Her whimper said she understood him, even if the words didn’t translate.
Once he recovered, he repositioned them in bed, buried beneath blankets. His kisses were lazy, soft, ardent. He took everything he’d never been with anyone else and gave it all to her.
He buried himself deep and fucked her into the mattress, memorizing every sensation. Each returning gasp from her parted lips, each little mew, was a reward more precious than blood. He would never forget this, for as long as he lived.
“Why didn’t you drink from me?” she asked hours later. He’d propped his head on his fist to simply watch her, tracing patterns on her belly.
“Because I wanted you to know that this was more important to me.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flared.
He pressed his free hand against her chest, against her heart, which was still fluttering. He did that. It fluttered for him.
This perfect little creature had given herself to him when he didn’t deserve it, when he had done very little to atone. He would not squander that.
“I know things are new between us. And I know my past behavior was monstrous, wrong, destructive. But I want you to know that I will spend every day of my life working to make it right. It haunts me, what I did. It will always haunt me. But I won’t let it haunt you, too.
Not if I can work to make it better. I…” He swallowed.
“I don’t entirely know how I will do that yet, but I promise you I will keep trying, and perhaps some day, I’ll figure it out.
You know that it will never happen again, don’t you?
That I will never hurt you again. Never. ”
Her eyes began to fill and he worried that he’d gone too far, dredged up too many painful memories.
“Tell me you believe me, Lily,” he begged. “Tell me.”
“Laurie.” His name, the sound of it made his stomach flip uncomfortably. “Laurent.”
“Tell me.”
“I believe you,” she said. Something in his chest relaxed. “I believe you,” she repeated.
The explosion of relief was enough to bring him to his knees if he hadn’t already been laying down.
She lifted a hand and pressed it to his cheek, cradling it.
No one had ever touched him quite like this, while looking at him the way she looked at him.
Or perhaps a touch had never mattered quite this much.