Chapter 13 His Fangs, Her Fantasy
When Gray emerges from the bathroom, I’ve eaten a box of three-day-old cold takeout, and changed twice from nerves.
I needed something that wasn’t soaked in my sweat, so I settled on a nightdress stuffed in the back of my intimate drawer.
It was a decent idea at first, but now I’m all too aware of how much skin I’m showing.
I consider changing again when the bathroom door opens and Gray walks out, shirtless, brand new black joggers riding dangerously low on his perfectly shaped hips.
“All done,” he says. His wet hair is dripping down his shoulders, trailing little beads of water from his face to his chest. For a moment, my composure slips, and I wonder what those little beads would taste like on my tongue.
I could use a drink after all those leftovers.
“Now what?” he asks.
“Towel,” I say with a slight shake of my head. Gray passes the towel he’s holding into my waiting hands and I direct him back to the chair he was in before. “Sit please.”
With a huff, he falls back into the seat, and I take up my position behind him.
The color looks nice, and the more I towel it off, the drier and lighter it gets.
I’ve got a few hair products for styling sitting on the low table beside me, so I start with a bottle of mousse.
After a few minutes of tugging, pulling, and sculpting, I clap my hands together with finality.
I hurry back around and offer the mirror to him again.
“I gotta say, it turned out better than I expected.” I mean it, too.
His hair really took to the color I chose.
Dark gray roots fade into silver and then white, with the body of his hair framing his face in a way that compliments its shape.
He looks like a different person. Without the long curtain of hair to hide him anymore, I can clearly make out his high cheekbones and the defined line of his jaw.
There’s a sharp quality to his face, softened somehow by the curve of his lips, which are full and pouty.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but he’s more than just good-looking.
Apart from the innate vampire charm, he’s heart-achingly beautiful.
“What do you think?” I ask, threading my fingers together over my chest. I’m only slightly nervous to know what he thinks.
Gray, holding the mirror, turns his head from side to side and runs his fingers along his hairline to his jaw. He smiles, and it makes my stomach flip. Finally, he says, “After a hundred years? I’ve never looked better.”
Gods, what a relief. I can’t imagine what he would have done if he didn’t like it. At least now I can add this to my resume as ‘experience in coloring the undead’s hair.’ That has to count for something, right?
“Well done,” he says and sets the mirror down on the low table. “You’re very good at what you do.”
“Hm.” I sniff, pursing my lips. “I think I deserve a reward for all of my hard work this evening.”
“Do you?” Gray asks, a teasing edge to his voice. It’s different from earlier when he had me up against the wall. That felt like a warning. This time, he’s playing into it, and with gusto.
“Yeah, I do.”
His eyes narrow with interest. “What did you have in mind?”
“A kiss, a handshake, or a pat on the back. I mean, even a thank you would be great.”
“A kiss,” he echoes. “Would you like that?”
“Oh.” I bite down on my bottom lip. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t serious. I was just trying to be funny.”
“If it’s a kiss you want, Millie”—he leans forward in the chair and beckons me—“then by all means, come and claim it.”
“Don’t tease,” I say with a pointed look.
“Who’s teasing?” His face says it all. He’s being serious. This is the same guy who basically told me moments ago that I’m only important to him because of our deal. There’s something seriously wrong with me.
I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.
At first, I’m far too afraid to make a move.
In a way, it feels like he’s challenging me to follow through.
I’m starting to get a sense of déjà vu, knowing that he’d done this to me earlier with the necklace.
He’s waiting now, watching to see if he can call my bluff.
Like the idiot I am, I don’t plan on letting that happen.
Besides, it’s not as if I specified what kind of kiss.
He could just as easily kiss me on the cheek and send me on my way.
With a cautious step, I walk over to him from the couch and stand between his legs.
“Go on,” he rasps, looking up at me with a deep, crimson gaze. There’s enough unspoken attraction bubbling beneath the surface between the both of us that I know exactly what kind of kiss I want.
To hell with it. I’m going in for the lips.
I place both of my hands on his shoulders and lean down, eyes closed.
I’m expecting laughter, some kind of punchline, but he doesn’t do anything except meet my lips with his own.
The minute our skin touches, the embers of the same heat I felt in the church tower come to life again.
A groan escapes my chest, and my fingers tense, digging into the fabric of his shirt.
Without even realizing he had touched me, I feel Gray’s hands grip my hips in reply.
Did he feel that, too? I don’t have the breath or the words in me to ask. Gray’s hands drop to my thighs, and suddenly I’m falling into him. He guides my legs to circle his waist, then sinks his wicked, searching fingers under the hem of my nightdress.
A little ‘oh’ passes between us when his thumbs skirt across the curve of my belly, settling finally on the strings of my thong.
He uses the moment to steal my breath completely, deepening what started out as a simple kiss.
His tongue sweeps along my lips until he’s licking the inside of my mouth.
I meet his hunger with a mixture of my own.
I capture his tongue and suck it, eliciting a moan from him that makes my skin buzz and my pussy wet.
Hands that were planted firmly on my hips are now pulling the straps of my nightdress down.
Gray’s cool fingers graze my breasts, thumbs caressing the buds of my nipples.
Oh my god! My cheeks flame with warmth, heating my blood past boiling.
I could burst from the sensations alone.
Each little stroke is like a key on a piano; he’s an expert at playing.
When his mouth moves away from mine, I jolt against the feeling of his tongue against the hollow of my throat.
He sucks the tender skin, grazing me with his fangs so lightly that they could draw blood with the slightest pressure.
I get the feeling that he’s waiting for me to give the word and he’ll do just about anything I want him to.
Which makes me pause.
Through the fever, clarity comes rushing in. I haven’t thrown myself at a stranger in over a year. It’s almost scary how easy it was for me to slip under the waves again and lose myself to the moment. The longer his mouth stays on me, the more I’ll crave and desire it.
So, I pull away just before his mouth reaches my breast.
“That’s enough,” I gasp. My voice is raw and breathy as I speak.
“Too much?” Gray chuckles and leans back, drawing his hands away from me, settling them on the armrests at his sides. He looks as satisfied as a cat after having its meal and dessert.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Too much.”
“Mm,” he hums deeply, causing his Adam’s apple to vibrate.
“Maybe,” I start, though I’m still trying to catch my breath, “we shouldn’t do that again. Just in case.”
“Just in case what?” He tilts his head into a waiting hand and leans to one side. “One of us gets carried away? I think we might have passed that point, sweet cheeks.”
His eyes drop to my chest, and my gaze follows. Everything is in disarray. My breasts are completely exposed and my lower half isn’t in any better shape. The nightdress is hiked so high above my hips, it’s like a wrinkled little sash. I might as well be naked the way I look.
“I like this flimsy garment you’re wearing,” he says, using his free hand to reach for the strap of my thong.
He gives it a tug as one corner of his lips turns up when it snaps back.
The look on his face screams desire, and there’s a chord inside of me growing more tense by the second.
Something tells me that if we kiss again, we’ll devolve into a senseless pile of tangled limbs on the floor.
I hate how much I want that.
“You know,” he begins with a suggestive raise of his brow, “I wouldn’t mind an addendum or two to our little deal.”
“An addendum?” I repeat.
“We could have fun,” he offers, the lilt in his tone enticing, seductive even. His gaze roves along my body, hunger written in his expression. “Hell’s, it’s been ages since I’ve had a good fuck.”
My face heats. “You want to add sex to our deal?”
“Why not? It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says evenly.
I can’t even begin to express how that makes me feel.
Gray is good looking and the attraction I have toward him is dangerous, to say the least, but I can’t bring myself to justify another fling.
Dax feels safe because we’ve set boundaries.
And after that kiss just now, I don’t think I can do that with Gray. Just the thought of going further has my blood pressure spiking.
“No. I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” I scramble off his lap and right my nightdress. I wrap my arms around myself protectively, as if that will somehow stop his gaze from lingering. I want to run to my room and hide away under the blankets.
“That’s a shame. It was such a good kiss, too,” he laments, though I can’t tell if he’s being serious.
“It was a mistake to kiss you,” I say quickly, almost wishing I could take it back the instant I say it aloud. A beat of silence passes between us, our eyes locked onto each other. I hope he can’t see my shame, my embarrassment, or my regret.
“A mistake, you say.” He appears unbothered, but there’s a subtle flinching in his expression at the mention of ‘mistake.’ Somewhere in a past life, he must have been told something similar by someone who was more than consequential.
“Yes.” My gaze falls to the ground; the first to break our heated focus. “Are we done here?”
Gray doesn’t answer. He waves me off dismissively, which leaves me feeling weird and dejected.
It isn’t like we know anything about each other.
Still, I can’t help but think how differently this would play out with Dax, and how I wouldn’t feel so disappointed.
Then again, Dax’s kisses have never felt the way this one felt.
They’ve never left a mark so deep inside of me that I crave it more keenly than anything I’ve ever experienced.
It makes me wonder if that’s vampire charm in general, or something more personal, more Gray-centric.
Back in my room, I shut the door with a soft click and turn off all the lights.
My skin is covered in a thin sheet of sweat, and my body is racing in sync with my heart.
I want to go back out there and kiss him again, to feel that fire in my blood that only he seems to cause.
Instead, I roll into my bed and reach for the drawer on my bedside table.
My fingers wrap around the first thing I can grab—a tentacle dildo, which was a one-off gift from Jill and Emma as a joke last Christmas.
I’ve never used it before, but stroking the length of it and feeling the suckers, I think it’s just what I need.
Moving my panties to the side, I slick the tip of the dildo along my wet lips.
I suck in a sharp breath and rest my head back on the pillow.
It isn’t hard to imagine myself on the couch, trapped beneath Gray.
I try to think of his lips on mine again, the feel of them, the cool taste of his breath.
His tongue explores my mouth, tasting me in full.
I moan as the tip of the dildo slides inside at the thought of his hands palming my eager breasts, his dick pressed hard against my center.
The curve of the tentacle is such a different feeling than my other toys that I find myself pulling it all the way out just to feel it stretch me again.
I want it to be him. I want him to come in here and fuck me senseless.
But I’m alone, and it’s just Gray in my fantasy that’s sucking my nipple, his cock buried inside of me.
I spread myself wider, pushing my hips up to meet my heady thrusts.
In my fantasy, the wet slap of skin against skin is not my hand bumping into my clit, it’s his cock now rushing in and out of me with furious need.
“Gray…” His name falls from my lips as I tumble over the edge of an orgasm. My legs collapse beneath me, and I sink into the bed, satisfied. I withdraw the dildo and tease it again against my clit, drawing out every last nerve until I’ve milked the pleasure fully.
Not long after that, I roll over and tuck myself beneath the covers. My eyes flutter, heavy and tired. I look at the door before I close them completely, and I swear I see the light beneath my door flicker, as if someone has been standing there.
As if Gray had been just outside my door, listening to all of it.