Tempting Eternity

by Angela Colsin

The caress elicited a groan of enjoyment, making her think he was about to commence with his bite. But her bold inspection must've had him too curious not to ask, “You truly don't fear me?”

  In answer, Isadora canted her head to the side, freely offering her neck in whispering, “Let's just say I know that bracelet is completely pointless. So give me your best bite, vampire, because I'm ready for you to prove me right.”

  Mathias' heart twisted at the sight of Isadora canting her head in a show of trust he was desperate not to betray. She wanted him to prove her right, and he'd never hoped to be in the wrong more in his entire life.

  At the thought, his vision locked on her pulse, the urge to taste the blood running through it as powerful as ever.

  And for once, he didn't resist.

  Quickly leaning in, his fangs pierced her neck with speed, but also precision. He wanted the bite to be as painless as possible, and thousands of years had certainly provided the practice, a fact Isadora proved by letting a surprised gasp before exclaiming, “Oh, I thought that would hurt a lot more!”

  He would've smiled if his fangs weren't otherwise engaged, and instead, paused for only a brief moment before taking the slowest pull of blood he'd ever taken in his life.

  And the reward was indescribable.

  Seizing up with a loud groan, his arms tightened around Isadora in an unbreakable hold, the sweet nectar rolling down his throat with a rush of euphoria overwhelming him. The flavor was akin to honey, flowing through his body and infusing it with life in ways he would never have expected.

  The blissful sensation proved why vampires craved fae blood so badly, and the second draw redoubled it, until all he could wonder was how in the hell he'd ever lived without this—or how he'd ever go without it again.

  So he took more, the third gulp making him tingle in a moment of satisfaction, the same moment he would've released Isadora had she been human.

  But she wasn't, and her blood was too good to give up.

  With the thought came that dreaded sense of greedy desire, the one he knew would drive him to drink beyond necessity, even if she couldn't safely provide it. He wanted to resist that urge, to remind himself that Isadora was so much more than a source of nourishment, but found himself drawing another gulp anyway.

  And that's when things … changed.

  Where the start was enjoyable, drinking more than a few gulps was too much. Though desire had him attempting to take as much as possible, dear gods, this fae was too sweet, too rich.

  As the thought struck, his euphoria turned into dizziness, equilibrium shot, her blood overpowering in a way he'd never experienced. Indeed, whatever desires had driven him before dwindled to nothing, and the thought of taking more blood wasn't precisely agreeable.

  In fact, he had the distinct feeling it would only make him sick—and he instinctively released Isadora without the need for command.

  The thought would've delighted him under normal circumstances, but at present, he didn't have the focus to consider it. Instead, he stumbled to her left and rolled onto his back with a low groan as she made some happy exclamation, but damned if he knew what she'd said. The room was spinning too much to comprehend it, the euphoria of her blood roiling through his veins eliciting a languid fit of laughter in realizing what it all meant.

  If I didn't know better, I'd say I'm drunk … .

  — TWENTY-SEVEN —

  “I can sense you!”

  Isadora's exclamation came the moment Mathias pulled away, though her excitement turned to confusion when he landed on his back with a grunt and started laughing.

  “Mathias?”

  After a few deep breaths, his mirth finally calmed enough to allow for a casual, “Hmm?”

  Quickly sitting up, she glanced over to see his eyes closed with the laziest smile on his lips, then crawled over to hover above him, shocked at what she could sense coming from her mate.

  “You're drunk!”

  “I am,” he agreed, looking around the room with a nod. “Or as close to drunk as I can get. Everything's spinning.”

  Isadora couldn't help her laughter. “A drunken vampire?”

  He looked equally amused by the outcome, remarking, “It seems your blood is too rich to drink more than a few gulps at a time. I couldn't take more at present, even if I wanted—which I honestly don't.”

  Though he sounded incredulous, the vampire next qualified, “Still, considering you're a fae with a lover's blood link, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.”

  At that, he chuckled again, and while Isadora shared his mirth, she pointed out, “But it makes no sense. You took a lot more in the ruin, and you weren't drunk there.”

  “Because I was badly injured, so my body metabolized the blood almost instantly.”

  She thought that over, supposing the amount of healing he'd needed would've definitely suppressed the effect, asking, “I wonder if that's why I couldn't sense you for long.”

  “Possibly, and I can sense you now as well,” he murmured.

  “Really?”

  He gave a considerate nod, qualifying, “I didn't quite expect that. We can track mortals after drinking their blood, but a fae? It seems strange. Still, this situation has been strange from the start.”

  With that said, he attempted to place a hand on her shoulder—or that's what she assumed when it flew a few inches to the left.

  Realizing he'd missed, his head fell back with more laughter, and she didn't think she'd ever get enough of that sound.

  But instead of making him try again, she crawled into his lap, and the vampire immediately grabbed her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck with a kiss against the puncture wounds still marking her flesh.

  “I wonder how long it will take these to heal,” he mused. “Do fae rejuvenate quickly?”

  She shivered when he kissed her neck again, and barely recognized her voice in replying, “Somewhat, but it won't heal for several hours unless I feed from the earth.”

  “Mmm,” he drew out, trailing kisses upward, each like a brand lingering on her skin long after he'd moved to the next spot.

  The sensation made it incredibly difficult to focus when his voice rumbled against her ear, “Then would you like to go outside, sweet fae?”

  “W-what for?” she whispered dimly, too distracted to follow their conversation. Sweet mercy, his voice … .

  Chuckling, he reminded, “To feed from the earth and heal.”

  “Oh!” Shaking her head, she returned, “Not just now, it doesn't hurt, and I'm not woozy like last time.”

  “Good,” he moaned on such a deep, masculine tone, chills swept across her back.

  Yet, despite her utter enjoyment of his attention, somehow, things felt different now, and she wasn't sure why. Perhaps knowing for certain the vampire wouldn't lose control while drinking her blood really put things into perspective.

  There was no danger. Nature hadn't thrown some weird curve ball and put them in an impossible situation. She'd truly found a suitable mate, and the thought filled her with awe, excitement—and a certain degree of doubt.

  Mathias was right, after all. Learning they could have more was just the first part of the equation.

  The second was figuring out how to make it work.

  Still, the matter was too complex to consider for someone with an aroused vampire nibbling their neck—yet another difference. Since their first meeting, Mathias had been careful and reserved, keeping a distance between them out of concern for her safety. But now, she was locked in his lap as he showered her with affection, and her newfound ability to sense his arousal only fed her own libido.

  Not that it needed feeding, prompting her to mention, “Mathias, you're making me ache again, and if you stop this time, I'll … I'll never forgive you!”

  It was an empty threat, but she didn't have the presence of mind to think of anything better to say—not that it seemed to matter. Instead, Mathias was too busy sliding a hand down between her thighs, intensifying that ache of desi
re tenfold while murmuring, “Believe me, I intend to earn your forgiveness in every way, sweet fae.”

  Staring at his big hand between her legs, she gasped when he pressed down, drawing his fingers back and forth. Her jeans muffled the sensation, but her heart thundered in her chest regardless.

  Proving he could hear it, the vampire groaned and unbuttoned her pants, tugging the zipper down.

  She could barely stay still, clutching him tight as his fingers pushed inside the elastic of her panties, then lower, so hot against her throbbing sex she jerked.

  With his other arm wound around her, his opposing hand sneaked beneath her top to cup a breast as he drew out against her ear, “I know you've never been touched this way, and don't quite know what to expect.”

  It was unclear whether he was asking a question, but if so, she couldn't answer when his fingers traced the slit between her legs.

  Instantly, her head fell back, wetness pooling, the ache for his touch growing so painful she could think of nothing else as he added, “I've wanted to be the one to show you since we met.”

  Despite being caught in the turmoil of these new sensations, Isadora knew deep down she'd wanted the same thing. Just the thought of letting him touch her body was enough to drive away whatever rational thought she had left, leaving her operating on instinct—and those instincts were demanding the removal of her clothes.

  So she pushed her jeans down around her thighs along with her panties. It's always more comfortable being nude anyway.

  Following her lead, Mathias stopped to help, snatching the garments and allowing her to tug each leg free before he took enough time to jerk her top up above her breasts without removing it.

  Left exposed to his gaze, tremors of lust rolled through her as he admired her body with a possessive gaze. Reverence, desire, and most notably hunger loomed in his silver eyes—and her newfound ability to sense him proved it had nothing to do with her blood.

  “Dear gods, you're exquisite,” he rasped, sweeping his hand across her breast and back down over the plain of her belly.

  Yet he next let a low groan, eyes squeezing shut with a shake of his head.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he breathed. “I just wish I hadn't taken so much of your blood. Things are still fuzzy.”

  “Oh … Do you need to stop?”

  “Not a chance,” he answered with certainty, stretching his big body out along her side before returning his fingers to the junction of her thighs—and this time, she nearly bucked away.

  Instead of offering a few teasing brushes, his thick digit pressed into the slit, drawing back and forth with a slick glide. From her throbbing clit to the folds at her core and back, he stopped to press his index inside her body.

  “Oh!” she rasped, stiffening against him and too dumbfounded to know how to react, at least with conscious effort. She could only writhe in his hold, her movements wild, and if Mathias had been a normal man with normal strength, she likely would've pulled away entirely.

  But his arm secured her in place as his finger thrust deeper, his thumb resting upon her clitoris with a delightful amount of pressure that amplified her enjoyment.

  “You must like that. You're already so slick for me,” he murmured seductively, shifting his thumb to circle the swollen nub until it was bobbing.

  Stiffening, she cried out in surprise, the pleasure so intense her head fell back in abandon.

  “I'll take that as a yes,” he rasped, the statement punctuated by a masculine groan of the words, “Gods, you're tight,” when her muscles instinctively clamped around his thick finger.

  Isadora wanted to ask if that was a good thing, but could only moan loudly once Mathias began pumping in and out at a slow pace—and she couldn't take it.

  She'd never ached so badly and felt so wonderful at the same time, clutching a fistful of his hair as he leaned down to suck a nipple into his hot mouth, tugging it with his teeth.

  Combined with the way his thumb circled her aching clit and his fingers dipped and thrust, he left her spiraling out of control like a ship tossed amongst turbulent waves that were only building in strength.

  “M-Mathias!”

  “Are you close, sweet fae?”

  She couldn't speak, the pleasure intensifying until a gasp escaped her parted lips that sounded more like a squeak when she tried. Too good … It's too fucking good!

  As if she'd somehow pleased him, Mathias growled, stroking her faster. “Let me see it, beautiful girl. Come on my fingers.”

  Come? Is that what she was close to? Having an orgasm?

  She didn't know, could only beg him, “Just don't stop! I want to—I need … please!”

  At her desperate cry, the vampire growled out a promise against her ear to never stop just as it hit—a blast of pleasure so intense she screamed.

  “Fuck!”

  Isadora had no idea what happened. In the space of a moment, the world seemed to turn over, her hips thrashing against his hand as she clawed the bed sheets, crying out with each wave of pleasure surging through her body.

  Never once had she experienced the like, or even imagined she could. The pleasure was both chaotic and enjoyable at once, and she hoped it never stopped.

  Her body thrashed against her mate's, though the wild movements didn't deter Mathias, who worshiped her with numerous kisses along her neck and across her breasts while anchoring her with one arm. In the process, he groaned as if thoroughly enjoying her show of pleasure, and for a moment, she truly thought her orgasm would never end.

  But the waves did subside, steadily slowing until her cries turned into whimpered mewls against his throat. Only then did he cease the erotic motions between her legs, drawing both arms up to cradle her in the aftermath.

  “I hope that met your expectations,” he murmured against her ear, words she could barely process. Euphoria filled her, dulling her senses, and yet an ache lingered between her legs for something she didn't fully understand.

  But she fully intended to learn, and wasn’t going to pass up the chance to explore his body doing so.

  Had Mathias been anything but a vampire, he would've thought Isadora's passion a product of some beautiful dream. But vampires only relived memories during sleep, meaning somehow, it had to be real.

  And he wasn't prepared for how deeply it ran.

  “Met my expectations?” she rasped, pushing him onto his back with a surprising amount of strength.

  Still reeling from her blood, and too curious to know what she'd do next to resist her, he rolled over and gazed up into her glittering blue eyes as she went on, “It blew them out of the water, and I've never wanted anything as badly as I want to give you the same pleasure.”

  The declaration had his heart hammering, a loud groan escaping his throat as her hands wandered over his body. Her fingers traced the contours of his arms and lips trailed across his chest, each kiss against his flesh hotter than the last, and dream or no dream, Mathias knew he'd be quick to spend.

  Having just witnessed her first orgasm was nearly enough to send him over the edge, but experiencing the desire he'd stoked in her was better than he'd ever imagined.

  And drinking her blood never crossed his mind.

  All of his cravings to feed were sated, leaving him acutely aware of her presence just as she could sense his own—a surprising, if not favorable turn of events. Who could've known she'd be able to detect him as a living presence if he drank her blood?

  Perhaps it resulted from their link as mates, and as time went on, they may even discover other benefits. But for now, he was focused on an entirely different discovery—namely what it meant to be a curious fae's lover.

  He couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd writhed on his hand with sweet cries of his name moments ago, and when she'd begged him not to stop, he'd found the truth baffling.

  They didn't have to.

  The thought set his heart pounding with both excitement, and a great deal of frustration. Never had he wa
nted something more and felt less able to pursue it. His hands shook with anticipation, head spinning with desire while wondering how the hell to proceed.

  Of course, that could've been the inebriation of her blood compounding his physical state, prompting a silent vow to only take two or three gulps next time—but even that thought was astounding. Next time. Dear gods, there could actually be a next time.

  Overwhelmed by the prospect, it was nearly impossible to take things slowly and savor the moment, to allow her to explore. He hadn't even yearned this badly to be blooded, instinctive urges driving him to roll her over and give her precisely what she wanted.

  Still, knowing Isadora was new to such intimacy tempered his resolve, making the prospect of learning how she liked being touched and using that knowledge to take her to the edge much more appealing.

  Besides, if things progressed too quickly, he'd have no stamina to last, and knowing there was a chance of keeping this fae in his life made it important to give her a reason to stick around—if not multiple reasons.

  So he didn't interrupt when she kissed her way down his torso, lips brushing the contours of his abdomen as her fingers sought his belt buckle. Anticipation rode him hard, but for as ravenous as he felt, he wouldn't deny Isadora the chance to learn more of his body.

  Digging his fingers into the sheets, he hissed in a sharp breath when she opened his pants and pushed her hand inside to grasp his aching cock.

  The sound drew her attention, and she gazed up to watch his reaction as her soft fingers squeezed the base.

  “Oh my … ,” she rasped. “You're hard.”

  “Very,” he groaned in agreement.

  Without prompting, she drew it from his slacks for a more thorough inspection—and Mathias decided he could easily lose his mind from this. Her touches were both frustratingly teasing, and wildly satisfying, and he craved more as badly as he wanted to take things to the next level.

  Yet her following statement gave him pause.

  “I didn't think it would be so … uh … ample.”

  She almost sounded uncertain, and he would've asked why, but when her hand stroked him, a groan emerged from his lips instead.