“This?” I murmured, before I could stop myself. “This is the present?”
“Well, you’ve had the same companion since you got here.” Archibald nudged Abram, typically ignoring what I had to say. “I figured you could use a little spice. I got her from Bolivia. She’s rumored to be very good at what she does.”
“Of course she is,” I muttered under my breath, knowing full-well that Abram’s sensitive hearing would pick up on my frustration.
“Besides,” Archibald continued, throwing a disgusted glance in my direction. “I imagine you’ve worn a groove into that one by now.”
A low groan escaped my lips. Today had been rough. Was it too much to ask not be met at the door with rhetoric so sexist that Don Draper would have considered it outdated?
“Don’t be jealous,” King Archibald said, looking over to me. “I’m sure I can find some way to keep you busy while your companion is otherwise occupied.”
My stomach churned. I turned a pleading gaze toward Abram, but he wasn’t even looking at me.
“That won’t be necessary,” Abram said, holding his hand in front of him. “While I appreciate the thoughtful gift, I’m afraid I won’t be able to indulge in it.”
It? I didn’t like this place, and I didn’t like the person Abram had to pretend to be while we were here.
“Is she not to your liking? I’m nearly certain there’s a German redhead in here somewhere.”
“No,” Abram said, an edge in his voice. “It’s only that I’m perfectly comfortable with my current traveling companion.”
Archibald narrowed his eyes. “Oh, come now. Every man prefers the feel of variety. It’s the way we’re born. It’s in our genes.”
My eyes drifted over to the dark-skinned woman. God, she was beautiful. Would Abram actually prefer her? Could I blame him if he did?
“Perhaps,” Abram said. “But my companion’s been quite mouthy to me as of late, and I had hopes of teaching her a lesson tonight.” A smile spread across his face. “The hard way.”
A matching smile graced King Archibald’s smug mug. “In that case, by all means.” His eyes slid over toward me, and I instantly longed for a shower. “Bad girls get what’s coming to them.”
It took all I could do to stifle a shudder from running through my entire body. I could not stand this bastard. And if I was anywhere else on the planet, I would drill my heel into his privileged ass and teach him a lesson. But there was too much at stake, so I held my tongue and my temper.
“My apologies, madam.” Abram nodded to the achingly beautiful woman. “Perhaps another time.”
I knew he wasn’t serious. With any luck, we would be away from this place in a few days never to return. Or, Abram would be at least.
I shook my head. I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t think about any of it. My body was exhausted. My mind was completely wiped. I needed to sleep. I needed to be in Abram’s arms, pressed against his heart. If this was going to be my last night, then that was how I wanted to spend it.
As if he could read my mind, Abram motioned to King Archibald. “I hope your chef won’t be too offended, but—”
“There are more pressing matters than hunger pangs.” Archibald nudged him in the stomach. “Do enjoy yourself. I’ll see that our Bolivian treasure is treated well.”
I winced, looking over at the woman. She was prettier than me, which meant I instinctively hated her, but she didn’t deserve to be subjected to this.
“My prince,” I said, taking Abram’s hand. “Perhaps she can be of assistance for us later. After you are finished with me.”
He narrowed his eyes for a long moment, reading my meaning within them.
“Good thinking,” he answered. “Keep her on hold for me, King Archibald. I’ll likely be back for her later.” To me, he added, “Don’t think that curries you any favor with me.”
Noticeable relief flashed across the woman’s eyes—surely if she was to be subjected, she would prefer Abram to King Archibald, and I couldn’t blame her. With that, Abram and I made our way to our room.
As soon as the door closed behind us, he turned toward me and slipped his hands down to my hips. “That was uniformly horrific.”
“It’s been one of those days,” I said, pulling away and plopping down on the bed, then tossed my shoes off, letting my feet rest for the first time all day.
Closing my eyes, I felt Abram’s heat next to me.
“I’m sorry,” he said flatly.
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes. “What on Earth could you have to be sorry for?”
My feet were in his capable hands now. He deftly massaged them, pressing against a hundred pleasure points I had no idea even existed.
“All of this,” he said. “I promised I would keep you safe. I promised I would make you happy. And now everything is spinning.”
“I am happy,” I said, running my hand against his shaped arm. “I’m happier than I ever thought I could be. And I have no doubt you’ll keep me safe.”
As long as you can, anyway.
“Let’s take tomorrow off,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “This was, after all, supposed to be our vacation. I know that things haven’t gone to plan, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t enjoy our time here.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “How would you like to spend tomorrow laying around on the beach? We’ll get drunk and become one of those couples who are way too handsy with each other in public.” He brought my palm up to his lips and kissed it. “And then, I’ll cook you dinner. I’ll tell you how beautiful you are, and then I’ll find a way to show you.” This time his lips grazed across my knuckles. “We can worry about all this other stuff later.”
A shot of pain ran through me so strong that I had to jump off the bed.
“What?” Abram asked, leaning forward with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, facing the window and trying to bite back the tears that were ridiculously bubbling up in my eyes. “I’m fine. That sounds—that sounds like the best day ever.”
And it really did. If I could pick a way to spend my last day on this planet, it would be what Abram just described, word for word.
But the thing was, I didn’t want it to be my last day. I want this one, the next one, and a hundred thousand more after that. And the truth that I wasn’t going to get that was just truly dawning on me.
“Don’t lie to me, Charisse. We’ve been through too much for that.”
He was right. He’d been there for me ever since the moment he first laid eyes on me, barreling down that staircase, heels over head—almost quite literally. I was lying to him. I was stealing away what little time he would have with me, and I was doing it so that I didn’t have to face this.
It wasn’t fair to him, and I wasn’t going to do it anymore.
“I’m dying, Abram,” I said without turning to him. “I saw Briar two nights ago in a dream.” I swallowed hard. “Tomorrow’s my last day, babe. Tomorrow is the day I die.”
Chapter 26
When I finally turned back to Abram, the look on his face was unreadable. I expected to see pain or horror—to watch him melt into a pile of worry and anguish. Instead, his expression was as smooth and unaffected as stone.
“It was just a dream,” he said, tilting up his chin. “She was on your mind. That particular sequence of events was on your mind, too. Of course you’d dream about it. It’s only natural.”
“It was on your mind, too, and you didn’t dream it,” I said in a small voice.
“I don’t dream.” A bit of curtness had snuck into his voice. “But you humans dream every night about all sorts of things. The only thing that dream meant was that you were worried. Nothing else.”
I sighed. I didn’t expect this. I figured that, faced with the truth, Abram would get laser focused. I imagined him scouring heaven and Earth, looking for a way to stop the unstoppable. But this—denial in its purest form—it just seemed so…well, so human.
“I know it’s hard to process, but it’s happening,” I said, moving toward him. “I saw Briar twice, just like all the other Supplicants did. And the Conduit and her Beast both confirmed it.”
Abram shrugged. “You’ve unlocked your Conduit side now. You won’t dream tonight, anyway. It’s a moot point.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I said, half-wishing he was right, and half-knowing I couldn’t count on it. “It’s happening, Abram, and we can’t stop it.”
“The hell it is!” Grabbing a ceramic egg that looked equal parts old and expensive, he flung it against the wall. I flinched as it shattered into a thousand shards and spilled in tiny pieces on the floor.
“Abram, I—”
“It’s not happening, Charisse.” He turned back to me, and the panic in his eyes that he’d been hiding before burst through clear as day. “And do you know why it’s not happening? It’s not happening because, if it did, that would mean you’ve been lying to me for two days. And you wouldn’t do that, Charisse, would you? Not after all we’ve been through. You wouldn’t look at me and not see the man who you could tell anything to. You wouldn’t not see hands that would move continents to spare you the smallest hint of pain. You wouldn’t look at me and not see me, Charisse. Not you. So no, that is why this is not happening.”
“I was afraid,” I whispered, looking down at my fidgeting hands and finally ready to come clean to myself about the reasons I had kept the whole thing under my hat. It wasn’t to spare Abram, and it wasn’t to keep him focused in the way he needed to be. No, the reasons I lied about this were much more obvious. Much more human. “I thought if I didn’t tell you, then it wouldn’t be real. I thought that, if we could just get through this, then I’d never have to think about it again. We could be us—just us—and we could be happy…and alive.” I blinked back tears and searched his dark eyes that had become the closest thing I had to a home since my mom died. “And we’d have all the time in the world.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his panicked eyes relaxing, his tense body regaining its normal composure.
After taking in and releasing a deep breath, Abram said, “We do have all the time in the world, Charisse.” He stepped toward me, his knuckles brushing some stray hairs from my face. “You have me. You have us. And as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, I will not allow you to leave this world even one second before your time. No Conduit is going to take you away from me. No one is.”
His palm, rugged and large, moved across my cheek now. I turned into it, kissing the calloused skin of his hand.
“I’m going to make it right, Charisse,” he said, wrapping my back with his arm and pulling me tight against him. “Do you believe me?”
I wanted to say yes. I needed to say yes. God knew I believed it. I had to. But I couldn’t. I had made peace with this. To open myself up to the possibility that Abram might be able to undo this for me might have been too much for me to take.
“Do you believe me?” he asked again.
Slowly, he turned me around and laid me onto the bed. He rested over me, pushing me against the mattress with the weight of his body.
I closed my eyes and ran my hands through his hair. The heat of him lay against me, lighting me up inside. But still, I didn’t answer. Opening my eyes, I pulled at his shirt, ripping it open and working it past his shoulders and off his back. Then, as quickly as I could, I pulled at my own shirt, fire rising in my eyes.
“Slow down there, tiger,” he whispered, slowing pulling my shirt over my head and laying it beside us on the bed. “I promise you, we’ve got all the time in the world.” His fingers grazed my cheek, drawing soothing circles around my lips. “We’ve got tomorrow.” He moved his lips toward my neck, kissing it gently. “And the next day,” He trailed along my collarbone and then to my breast. “We have the day after that,” he continued, cupping me in his hands. “And the one after that, too.”
My hands searched his back, but slower this time, more gently. Before, I wanted to scour every inch of him, to make sure I had revealed everything there was to know about him while I still had time to do so. But, for whatever reason, he had quieted that demon within me, at least for now.
As he slid the rest of my clothes off, exposing me to him in a way I hadn’t been in days—with all of my body and all my secrets laid out on the table—a wave of peace washed over me.
Maybe he was right. Maybe we did have the rest of our lives. Maybe we had the rest of eternity. Maybe tonight was just an overture for a symphony that would stretch out into forever.
Abram seemed intent on driving that point home. It felt like hours that he laid beside me, half propped up on one arm, leaning down to kiss me while his fingers played over my nipples, slow, teasing, testing, making me squirm. His mouth never left mine, reducing me to beg him only with soft, pleading moans. God, I’d never felt so close to orgasm just from nipple play, but Abram had a way about him, always knowing when to pull back with his touch and leave me aching for more.
When it became too much and my whimpers became too insistent, he smiled against my mouth.
“Shh, my love. There’s no rush.”
I growled. “If I said I believe you, would just…you know.”
“Hmm,” he said, kissing me again and murmuring against my mouth. “I don’t know.”
“Please, Abram,” I begged.
He pulled back and stared down into my eyes. “Ms. Bellamy, you should know by now I require more convincing than that. Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you want?”
“You already know,” I said, but I barely got out the last word as his hand slipped between my thighs, eliciting a gasp from me and making me squirm beneath his touch. “Abram…”
As he slid a finger between my folds, my hips bucked involuntarily. He paused for a few heartbeats before slowly working his finger into me. His intense gaze made me feel both hyperaware and like a Goddess at the same time. He started to press in another finger from his large hand, stretching me while nearly sending me to the brink at the same time. That was Abram—always pushing me to my limits both physically and emotionally, making me uncomfortable and aroused all at once.
My mind was swimming in a pool of desperation. I couldn’t think straight, and I suppose that was the best gift Abram could give me right now. All we had was this moment, this thumping desire.
Abram’s skilled hands drove me to the edge, over and over, creating that eternity I wanted within just this one night. The tension building from my core made my eyes roll back, but every moan was stifled by his lips playing over my own. At any moment, I would explode. I squirmed beneath him, certain that at some point, he would not pull back fast enough, and I would shatter—I would explode into a million glorious pieces. If not, the need building inside me might kill me before tomorrow could get to me.
When he slowed his touch again, he lifted his mouth from mine to stare into my eyes once more, his thumb still grazing over my clit while his fingers teased between my legs.
“Tell me you know this isn’t the end. Tell me you believe I can save you.”
“I do,” I said, sliding my hand up to his neck. “I do believe you.”
He didn’t reply—just smiled and kissed me square on the mouth. At some point, without my noticing, his pants had found their way to the floor, and he pushed apart my thighs to get between my legs. The head of his cock rested just at my entrance, hard and unmoving, exhibiting Abram’s centuries of practiced self-control that I could not match. My body rocked eagerly to try to get more of him, to get him inside of me, but he was using every movement, every kiss, every touch, to prove that we were not running out of time. That we would never run out of time.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, as slowly, achingly, he pushed into me inch by inch, the pressure building up in me so hard and fast I was certain I would be done before he even got all of himself into me.
“Abram, please,” I begged. “I really can’t anymore.”
“Alway
s,” he whispered, driving the rest of the way into me. “Always, Ms. Bellamy.”
And finally I had all of him, his thick shaft filling me in a way that made me feel complete in every way imaginable, that made me feel impossibly full, that made me combust.
My body shuddered and my nails dug into his shoulders and my body rocked with orgasm.
“You belong to me,” he said, grunting as he ground deeper into me, and impossibly I disintegrated all over again, my orgasm squeezing over his own.
When he finished, he rolled off of me and stared up at the ceiling. “You belong to me,” he said again. “And no one is going to take what’s mine.”
* * *
I should have expected the dream. I should have known that, Abram’s pleas and expertise aside, what was real wouldn’t stop just because I begged it to.
I was at the edge of the cliff now, looking out onto the ocean and peering down at the rocky shore below.
It was different than it had been in reality, though. A hundred corpses littered the ground, one twisted and rotting body piled onto the next. It was like a mountain of death, and I was about to join it.
“They never leave here,” Briar said from beside me. I turned to find her wearing the same elaborate dress. Her hair swung up in curls, and a studded tiara graced her head. “Not really. They sort of just lay there. I think they’re just…just like me.”
“Just like us,” I answered.
She looked down, and I followed her gaze to my hand. In its grasp was a shard of a broken mirror. My knuckles were covered in blood.
“What…?”
My confusion was soon placed with understanding as something dripped into my eye, clouding my vision in red. I lifted my fingertip to my forehead and gently prodded what had once been Cover Girl smooth skin. Not anymore.
“She sleeps,” I whispered, my gaze moving back to Briar.
Sleeping with the Beast: an Adult Paranormal Shifter Romance (The Conduit Series Book 2) Page 18
