So she answered his following question without hesitation.
“Speaking of, did you acquire any draconian blood today?”
“Yes, I left the vial on the porch table.”
“Good,” he drew out, sounding more hesitant than pleased.
But it wasn't difficult to figure out why, and she attempted to reassure him by relating, “Everything will be fine, you know?”
Exhaling a low sigh, he returned, “I trust your judgment, Isadora, but your safety isn't all that has me concerned.”
“No?”
“No,” he started, cupping her cheeks with the words, “I was also thinking that if this works, and we're bound by blood, there will be no way to reverse the bond. So before we commence, I have to know this is what you truly want.”
Holding his gaze, Isadora smiled, finding a kind of satisfaction in his words she'd never experienced. Knowing he cared so much warmed her heart, and his insistence on gaining her consent fed both her eagerness to see this through, as well as the urge to confess her growing feelings for him.
But though the urge was strong, she hesitated. Admitting her love would be a potent way to prove her desire to spend eternity with him, but intuition made her wonder. Would our blood bond tell him how I feel without words?
It seemed a likely possibility. Feeding him had provided a sense of his presence, and if that connection grew stronger once she'd taken his blood, it may provide them a sense of empathy.
Either way, it seemed worth waiting to find out for sure. So instead of issuing a heartfelt confession, she answered first by leaning up to kiss him, then uttering, “I absolutely want this, Mathias. I don't think I've ever wanted something more.”
The statement put a look of incredulity on her vampire's face, as if her acceptance was the last thing he'd ever expected to have. But disbelief didn't stop his fangs from sharpening instantly as he turned her around, putting her back against his warm chest.
The movement seemed strange at first, but the reason became clear when the vampire lifted his right wrist to his lips.
Piercing his own flesh until blood welled, several droplets dripped down to spatter against the ground at their feet as he held it before her in offering, directing against her ear, “Then drink, sweet fae, and tie us together fully.”
Isadora's gaze locked on his bleeding wrist, her heart speeding in excited curiosity—and dread. Drinking blood simply wasn't at the top of her list of things-I'd-like-to-try, and yet, her instincts were urging her to take what he offered.
So she did.
Parting her lips, she latched onto his wrist, the corners of her mouth turning down at the coppery tang hitting her tongue. Still, the warmth sliding down her throat wasn't horrible, perhaps because of the way Mathias' hold around her tightened with that first suck, a low, gratified growl rumbling forth against her ear—if this gave him pleasure, it was worth the discomfort.
So she took another gulp, then a third, and with it came an unexpected sensation.
It started as a mild tingle rushing through her, but what followed couldn't be put into words, at least, not until Mathias proved he was experiencing something similar by groaning in surprise, “My gods, Isadora, it's … as if you were turned.”
Mathias stared down at his lover in shocked awe, watching her release his wrist to cast a reverent gaze up at his face, though he could barely process it. Instead, as the pleasure of feeding his cherished lover faded away, the new connection it established captured his full attention, and the sensations were completely unexpected.
Where drinking her blood allowed them to sense each other's presence, providing his enabled an awareness of her feelings—Isadora was surprised, but also satisfied.
Such an emphatic connection wasn't unprecedented, but something was different, making it hard to know how to respond when Isadora asked, “How is this as if I were turned?”
“The sensations,” he started, still searching for the right words in adding, “The blood exchange allows us to hear the thoughts of mortals before they're turned, but once they're a vampire, that ability fades to a mild sense of empathy.”
With that said, he shook his head and qualified, “But this is … clearer perhaps, stronger, and I don't know why.”
The situation raised too many questions to count, and gaining the ability to sense Isadora's feelings wasn't the only change—just as Marlese postulated, her scent was altered as well.
Still, he momentarily pushed the notion of it aside when his lover pursed her lips and mused, “I think it's because I'm fae.”
“How would that have an impact?”
Turning in his arms, she gifted him with a bright smile and related, “Because I can sense your feelings, too, and it's like communing with animals and fairies.”
Her tone was awed, sapphire eyes glittering with happiness. Indeed, he could sense her contentment, which fed his own, and the more he considered it, the more fulfilling it became. The outcome wasn't against all odds, but considering what could've happened, sharing such an emphatic bond with his lover seemed miraculous—as did the answer to her following question.
“But what about my scent? Has it changed at all?”
“It has,” he confirmed, explaining, “but it's not diminished, at least, not for me. Instead, I can detect myself on you now, which I'm sure will prevent other vampires from desiring your blood so fervently.”
Isadora held his gaze, her eyes going wide with discovery. “Oh! So it's a sign that I'm taken?”
“That's one way of putting it,” he remarked with a smile, sharing the relieved joy he sensed from his lover.
But the sensation soon faded into shock as he focused on Isadora’s emotions, finding one standing out above the rest—a steady wave of adoration that could only mean one thing.
“What's wrong?” Isadora inquired as if she'd detected his surprise, or perhaps he'd given it away with his stare.
Either way, he cupped her cheeks in both hands and stated, “You love me.”
Abruptly, the fae erupted in a fit of giggles, exclaiming, “Yes! I was hoping you'd sense it after I took your blood! But … why are you so shocked?”
Mathias couldn't answer. Knowing she loved him was amazing, but being able to feel it? To know without a doubt that her heart was his?
The notion was too overwhelming to answer any other way than by claiming her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss.
With a soft gasp that turned into a moan, Isadora responded by clutching him tight, her desire for his attention spiking. The ability to sense it put him on his knees, her passion overpowering him, to say nothing for her love.
And he had every intention of showing her just how much he loved her in return.
— THIRTY-SEVEN —
Isadora never thought she'd be unable to get close enough to another person, but even being fully pressed against Mathias' large frame as he lowered her to the grass left her wanting.
Such desire was maddening, and her only solace was knowing he craved her closeness just as badly.
The warmth of his body above her blended with the emotion she could now sense, from his arousal to desperation. But the strongest of all was adoration, proving his feelings without the need for words. He loves me, too.
The thought made her heart flutter, as did her vampire's willingness to prove it. Once their mouths broke, he trailed kisses down one side of her neck, then around to the other, showering her with more attention than she could stand.
Isadora attempted to returned the favor, her hands roaming over his body, across the sinew of his back and broad shoulders and down his abdomen, seeking the erection pressing into her lower belly.
Gripping it, the excitement her touch elicited was impossible to ignore, and she craved more of it, stroking him hard to peak his arousal—not that he wasn't already solid as steel.
Yet he stopped her, grasping her hand to pull away just as he'd taken one of her nipples into his mouth.
The suction against the sensitiv
e bud stopped her from immediately protesting, though she finally choked out, “Let me touch you, vampire!”
He groaned against her breast, tugging her nipple with his teeth before murmuring, “I would, but I'm still hungry, my love.”
Still hungry? Her brows narrowed in confusion, unable to sense any hunger coming from her mate—not that it was easy to focus. The sensations elicited by the kisses he trailed down across her stomach clouded her mind, and it wasn't until he gripped her inner thigh to part her legs that she realized what he meant. Oh! He wants to—oh … !
The thought set her heart to pounding, and the vampire groaned as if he'd noticed, murmuring, “I've been looking forward to this … .”
Hooking one arm around the back of her left leg, he draped the appendage over his shoulder to keep locked in place while spreading her damp flesh open with his thumbs.
Letting a masculine groan at the sight of her exposed sex, the sound excited her as much as the way he admired the view. Her entire body responded to it in ways she didn’t think possible, nipples tightening into stiff points as wetness flooded her core.
Yet he didn't immediately move, driving her crazy with need. But as she parted her lips to say so, the words stuck when his mouth latched on with a hard suck.
Isadora was so wound up she jerked, head hitting the grass with a sharp cry as his tongue insistently rubbed into her swollen clitoris, twirling over it in circles. Her hips bucked so hard the vampire had to anchor her in place.
Mindless, she grasped his wrist in one hand and dug her fingers into his hair, already overwhelmed. From the way he groaned against her flesh to the pleasure spreading through her body like a tidal wave, she had no idea how she'd ever last.
Through it all, she could sense Mathias' enjoyment as his tongue dipped inside her body, and she was lost.
On a breathless tone she didn't even recognize, she rasped, “Mathias, I can't take anymore of this!”
“But you want more,” he returned on a husky voice.
“Yes! I mean I don't—ah!”
A gasp escaped her throat as the vampire slowly twirled his tongue over her clit again before asking, “Should I keep you right here then? Tease you until you're begging me to let you come?”
“N-no! I want—Mathias!”
The cry of his name came when his index pushed inside, penetrating her deep. She was so wet the digit glided in and out with ease, causing her hips to buck against his hold as he resumed his intimate kiss.
The combined sensations drove her to the edge in no time, and he seemed so intent she thought he'd show mercy and keep going until she found release.
But he stopped again just as she'd reached her peak.
“Mathias! P-please! Please keep going!”
Could he sense how close she was? Or was it her cries telling him when to stop to keep her right on the edge of an orgasm? Either way, she was so desperate she grasped the back of his head to hold against her, grateful beyond words when he finally relented—and it didn't take long.
Only a few short moments passed before she erupted, thrashing with the merciless waves of pleasure. Making it even better was the immense gratification rolling off her lover—Mathias had enjoyed this, which only made her want more despite the strength of her orgasm.
Thankfully, the vampire was just as insatiable, taking what he wanted without hesitation.
Or mercy.
Whatever Mathias sensed missing with his lover was no longer a factor—and he fully regretted his reluctance to feed Isadora while they were still in Sutrelle.
The emotional connection established by their new blood bond was as fulfilling as it was overwhelming, and he couldn't get enough. Sensing his lover's vast enjoyment and urgent desperation while pleasuring her was maddening. She yearned to take things further as much as she wanted him to continue, the sensations so strong he almost thought he'd come when her orgasm hit.
But it certainly fed his libido, and he didn't waste a single moment furthering their intimacies as soon as she fell limp beneath him.
Sitting back, he grasped Isadora’s hand and pulled her up with ease, claiming her mouth in a hard kiss while maneuvering until her back was to his chest. Locking an arm around her, he then leaned forward to brace on one hand, putting her on all fours in the grass.
Once there, he stopped just long enough to position himself against her slick entrance, their deep groans sounding simultaneously as he drove inside her from behind.
Neither spoke a word in turn, and empathy was the culprit—the newfound connection made her excitement as clear to him as the way she aggressively pushed her hips back to meet his thrust.
A loud slap sounded as a result, repeating with each subsequent movement. Faster and faster, he gripped Isadora's hips, gritting his teeth in pleasure as her ass bounced against his lower abdomen. In turn, she clawed the grass, mindlessly pulling a clump from the dirt as their motions grew faster.
“Is it that good?” he asked despite sensing her utter enjoyment. But she was so lost he couldn't resist, and his fae didn't hesitate to respond.
Casting a sexy look over her shoulder, she teased, “You'd know,” and the brief but playful smile curling her lips was entrancing.
Quickly, he wrapped an arm around her to pull up until her back met his chest without breaking his pace. Her head fell back against his shoulder, eyes closed as she chanted, “I love you,” over and over.
Those words filled him with satisfaction such as he'd never experienced. Lifetimes had passed in wait of the moment a lover would give him her heart—and he wanted to return those words so badly he couldn't think straight.
Yet his impending orgasm kept him silent save for a low growl against her pointed ear.
Knowing she was just as close, he pressed his fingers between her legs to strum her clitoris, adoring the way she jerked and cried his name.
“Mathias! I'm about … I'm going to—ah!”
“Yes!”
He grunted the word as the first spasms of Isadora’s release drew forth his own. Spilling inside her, he clutched her tight, coming with her in a wild, maddening rush, the gratification unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Because of their blood bond, her pleasure blended with his, intensifying the sensations until he thought his orgasm would never end.
Combined with the love he so clearly sensed, it was the single most satisfying moment of his long life—and all that remained was making sure she knew it.
With the thoughts in mind, he drove home inside her body one last time before they collapsed together, panting in the aftermath of their lovemaking—not that this was the end. He only needed to catch his breath before they continued on, and used that moment to rasp against her ear, “I love you, too, Isadora. Gods, you mean … everything to me and … .”
Though Mathias tried to continue, a strange sensation overcame him as he spoke, as if something deep inside had snapped open. He couldn't explain it, and had no idea why, but the moment he confessed his feelings, a woman's voice urged him to act on his most basic instincts to feed.
The direction was faint, even distant, but still too powerful to ignore.
And Isadora was his prey.
— THIRTY-EIGHT —
“Mathias?”
Isadora's uncertain question came on a soft tone of voice, and with good reason—for the first time since meeting Mathias, she was truly afraid.
His confession of love had filled her with joy, and yet he'd trailed in confusion, prompting her to look back. Doing so revealed a lethal spark igniting in his silver eyes, and sadly, getting his attention seemed like the wrong move to make.
Before she could even register what happened, a sharp pain erupted at the back of her head and neck simultaneously. With no warning—and for seemingly no reason—the vampire gripped her hair and used it to jerk her head to the side, then sank his fangs into her neck so viciously she screamed.
“Stop! W-what are you doing?”
His only response was a cold snarl whil
e taking her blood so greedily the crimson escaped his mouth to stream down her neck and chest. It was as if feeding wasn't his aim, and she clawed at his wrists, struggling in his powerful grasp, so panicked to escape tears stung her eyes.
What had driven him to such a random attack? She had no idea, could barely think as her body connected with the earth, vines wrapping around her limbs to replenish what Mathias took, though the strangest part of all wasn't his aggression.
It was his reluctance.
Through her panic, Isadora could sense his intentions, and there was no malice or contempt in her vampire's heart. No, he was desperate, confused, even terrified, as if harming her was the last thing he ever wanted.
So why was he doing this? Isadora's only chance of finding out and escaping was to appeal to his logical mind.
“I know you don't w-want to do this, Mathias! Y-you have to s-stop!”
With those words came a rush of dizziness—he was draining her too quickly for the earth to heal, and her plea hadn't deterred him in the slightest.
In mere moments, Isadora's arms grew limp, her hope dwindling as swiftly as her blood. Was this to be the end? Killed by her own mate for no reason? She couldn't let herself believe it, tears streaming down her cheeks as she continued questioning what provoked Mathias to this act.
This obviously wasn't what he wanted, and yet he seemed unable to resist, as if controlled by another and … Wait … control?
At the thought, Isadora used her last reserves of strength to cry, “Mathias! It's Sylva Abbott! She's controlling you! She has to be!”
It felt as if she was grasping at straws. There was no way of knowing whether the witch was truly responsible. Isadora couldn't detect anyone nearby, nor had she sensed another being at any point during the day.
But given recent events, it was the only explanation that made sense—and it seemed she was right to suspect when Mathias finally ceased his attack and abruptly released her.
Tempting Eternity Page 30
