Get yourself under control!
Taking a few more calming breaths, Christian unlocked the barn and went to retrieve the animals. He assumed their sudden grazing by the house had something to do with Delilah.
He’d speak to the elders and find out if any of them knew of immortals with such disciplines before. If Delilah had such abilities to heal, the others needed to know. The bishop liked to keep records of each immortal’s gifts.
Once the animals were all returned to their proper place or chased off of his porch in general, he returned to the house. It was quiet. Going to the washroom, he cleaned up before looking for Delilah.
When he entered the kitchen he stilled. She sat at the table, head bowed, table set, and salad in the center. “Delilah?”
She looked up. Her eyes were red around the edges and her usual smile was not even hidden in the shadows of her lips. “I made salad. I didn’t know what else to make.”
Her voice sounded distant and raspy. His gut clenched. He didn’t want it to be like this, but he didn’t know how to make things right again.
He was furious with himself, but she seemed to be taking his reserve personal. “Thank you. Salad is fine.”
He pulled out the chair and sat. They ate in silence until he could take it no more. “What are you thinking, Delilah?”
“You know what I’m thinking, Christian. Don’t act like you don’t.”
He gently touched on her mind, but didn’t press. She was thinking of her shop, but he wasn’t quite sure what directions her thoughts were heading in. He wanted her to tell him without forcing her. “You are thinking about your shop.”
She nodded.
“What about it, Delilah. Do you wish to leave?” This was what he feared, that the more she learned about the limitations of their species way of life the more horrifying it would become to her.
“I owe a man money.”
“How much?”
“A few hundred. I don’t have it.”
“What do you owe him money for?”
“He made a down payment on some work I never got around to doing. I need to either return his money or do the work.”
“I told you—”
“This isn’t about leaving or returning to my life, Christian. This is about being paid for something and not doing the job. It’s a moral issue. You should get that.”
“I will give you the money and you can mail it to him.”
“I don’t know his address. All his contact info’s at the shop. I’d have to call him.”
“I do not want you interacting with other men.”
Her eyes cut to him and there was a moment of challenge snapping through the air between them. Strangely, he liked seeing this side of Delilah. He would take it over seeing her broken any day.
Then do not break her.
“I will take you to deal with this customer tomorrow.”
He could see by the rise in her brow that he had surprised her.
“I am not an ogre, Delilah. I would be pleased to have those parts of your life dealt with so that we can move forward without complication. Does tomorrow please you?”
“Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.”
She ate in silence and did not spare him another glance.
Christian wondered at the strange, but satisfying sensations that filled him when he gave a little. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he evaluated these emotions. When he bent, much like he’d been asking Delilah to bend for him, he felt…good. Perhaps he had a bit to learn about relationships.
He held in a chuckle. His mate would no doubt teach him. There was only so much an immortal could do in the face of a stubborn, English female. He hadn’t anticipated her strength of will. It was a strength in her he was coming to admire greatly, even if it did make his original ideas a bit more complicated.
* * * *
Christian awoke at dawn and went to the barn to feed. He was still acting strange from the day before and the ache in the pit of Delilah’s belly still pained her.
“Are you ready?”
She turned and faced Christian. He stood in the doorway of the house, the soft white sunlight of morning filtering through the opening and providing a sort of celestial halo behind him. He was beautiful.
“Are we taking a carriage?”
“Yes.”
She shifted her feet. “Um, isn’t that gonna seem a little odd?”
“We could walk.”
“To Cincinnati?”
“It is not so long of a journey from Lancaster.”
“Ah, yeah it is. And I don’t have any sneakers. How about a cab?”
His lips firmed. “Delilah, you are Amish now. This is how we travel.”
“But it will take days this way. And where will you park the horse?”
“The council has given me a list of others we can visit along the way to rest.”
“Christian, you’re talking about, like, eight hours by car and highway.”
“It will take longer than that, true—”
“Then let’s just drive,” she pleaded. “It’s gonna kill the horse.”
He frowned. “The horse will be fine. They are bred to travel. It is your modernized concepts of instant gratification that makes you worry for naught.”
“Well, I’m not taking the buggy. My ass will be permanently flat after a trip like that sitting on that bench.”
He sighed. “You are being difficult.”
“Really, I’m not, Christian. I’d rather walk than make the horse take the journey.”
Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he said, “Fine. We must pack a light bag and take an alternate route. If we travel quickly we must stay hidden from mortals’ view.”
As it turned out, traveling on foot as a vampyre was badass. Delilah loved racing through the woods of Pennsylvania. She could jump and cling to trees with amazing dexterity, putting Toby McGuire’s spidey sense to shame.
Once she found her rhythm and understood the general direction they were traveling, she took off. Christian chased after her. Never seeming to expel as much energy as she did, but she knew that was because he was older. It was odd that, unlike mortals, the older an immortal became, the more power and strength they developed.
She landed with a hushed grunt in a squat on the ground. Tall pines cut out the fading sun. She waited, listening for sounds of Christian on her tail. He dropped out of the sky as if from nowhere and landed stealthily beside her. Her lips twitched and she wiped her smile from her face, recalling the tension from the day before.
He paused and tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “Why do you shield your joy from me?”
Once again irritated that he could see through her more than anyone else ever could, she lifted her chin and threw back, “Why do you hide your softness from me?”
His mouth twitched between a smile and a frown, settling on an expression of insecurity. He met her gaze. “You have a great ability to cut me, Delilah. Even immortals bleed.”
Although she hadn’t taken away his life without asking, she hadn’t been kind to him. They were both guilty of hurting the other. He seemed to sense her epiphany. Stepping close, his fingers grazed her jaw. “In time we shall learn to get along.”
She nodded. She wasn’t necessarily a confrontational person. Well, to strangers she could be a bitch, but to her friends…she was generally loving and giving. She met his gaze and a sort of unspoken truce appeared to be reached. “I’ll race you.”
She bolted off into the woods only to have him outrun her once again, his body flexing beneath his clothing, displaying his incredible strength and agility.
He landed next to her with a soft drop to the ground. “Show off.”
He grinned at her. “You were trying to lose me?”
“Like that could ever happen.”
He shot her a pointed look. “True.”
“Do you guys ever play man hunt on the farm?”
“Man hunt?”
“Yeah, lik
e a big game of Hide and Seek? Or what about other sports? I’m a huge baseball fan. You guys could probably unravel a ball in one hit.”
“We are usually too busy to play. The children enjoy such games as Hide and Seek and stick ball.”
Her mouth twisted toward her cheek. “What do the grown-ups do for fun? You gotta play too.”
His gaze turned smoldering. “We play with our mates when we are not working.”
Adrenaline pumped through her veins from racing. She didn’t want to get distracted, as tempting as the look in Christian’s eyes was. She wanted to talk. “Okay, well, you just found your mate. How did you play before that? You know what?” She held up her hands. “Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”
“Are you worried I had other females?”
Yes. “No. Of course not.”
He stepped closed. “Liar.”
The sun was setting overhead. Would they be staying at her place that night or would they get a hotel? Her shop was still a few hours off, but she wasn’t tired.
“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered.
He frowned. “I was not mad at you, Delilah. I was upset with my lack of responsibility toward you. I know better. It is over now. We’re moving on. That is what I want.”
Her eyes focused on the fullness of his lower lip. Christian was unfairly beautiful. She shook her head still not quite able to make sense of how much her world had changed in the past week. Her breath came fast as she lowered her eyes. The heat of his body cut through the slight gap between them.
His fingers reached up and gently pulled away her bonnet. The air pulsed with sexual tension and her body tightened. She liked this side of him so much better than when he was irritated with her or disappointed. Somewhere in the last week she’d come to expect his desire for her. No one had ever wanted her with such verve. She liked it, was becoming addicted to it, to him.
Delilah pressed up on the balls of her feet and traced her lips along his. A manly growl reverberated from his throat.
“I’ve never had sex in the woods, Christian.”
His breath hitched. She loved that she could do that to him. His hand gripped her upper arm and squeezed. Her lips curled into a smile over his and he was quickly backing her up against a tree.
He didn’t kiss her. He was so close. The flecks of his eyes seemed to add a glowing quality to his irises as the light from above the trees faded. “You are a temptation I cannot fight, Delilah.”
“So are you,” she whispered back. Her body tugged as heat pooled in her belly. “Are you going to fuck me, Christian?”
He stilled. “Language. Use a better word, Delilah.”
“I don’t want to. I want to be fucked. Right here, by you, in the woods.”
His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated the rest of the way. His growl turned into a low purr as his arousal pressed through his clothing into her belly. His fists balled in her skirt, yanking her hips forward.
Her thighs chilled, but as his warm palms caressed her flesh she heated immediately. Her hands rested on his shoulders as he gently traced his fingers to the seam of her panties.
“Spread your legs.”
She shivered and did as he asked. Over the scuttling sounds of animals nearby there was a quick tear of lace. Her folds were bathed in the cool evening air. Gripping her ass, he lifted her so that her back pressed into the bark of the tree.
“Undo my pants, Delilah.”
Her fingers quickly went to his pants. His erection made it slightly difficult, but soon enough she had him freed. Her hand wrapped around his length and squeezed. He thrust into her palm.
“Put me inside of you.”
She arched. He supported her lower body, his big palms massaging her ass. Rather than put him inside of her, she traced the swollen tip of his cock over her wet slit. Her breath hitched as she dragged him over her clit. She did it again and he growled.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her voice had become a breathless whisper laden with need.
“I thought you wanted to be fucked.”
She stilled, her nipples rapidly tightened as the dirty word spilled from his mouth. Their eyes met. “Christian,” she said. “That is a very bad word.”
“I have a very bad mate.”
She smiled slowly. “Yes, you do. Are you going to do something about that?”
“I intend to fuck her, long, hard, and deep.”
“Oh, no, that’s a terrible punishment,” she sighed sarcastically.
The banter fell away as they stared at each other. Dirty talk was fun, but the look of intent burning in his eyes was too much of a distraction.
“Put me inside of you now, pintura. Do as I say.”
She lifted slightly in his grip and pressed his cock to her opening. He waited a beat, a look of warning in his eyes and then he thrust deep, burying himself to the hilt. Her voice escaped in a sigh and his fingers tightened almost painfully in the soft flesh of her ass.
He withdrew only to slam deep into her sex again, thrusting his cock in her heat. “Is this what you want, pintura? To be fucked?”
Her pussy fluttered and he sucked in a breath through his sharp teeth. The look in his eyes turned feral. Her legs lifted, tightening around his hips, ankles interlocking at the small of his back.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He stepped back, holding her body suspended against the trees, breaking the latch of her legs and loosening her hold on him. “Hold the branch above your head.”
Carefully, she reached up and found the thin branch he spoke of. Her fingers wrapped around the limb, the coarse bark abrading her soft fingertips. His cock rested in her opening, not buried the way it had been, but still touching her, taunting her needy sex.
He gripped her hips and slammed her body down on his. She cried out as he impaled her. Her back lifted away from the tree, but she held on as again and again, he drew her down on his hard cock.
The angle was amazing. He was hitting all the right places, curving into her and creating a delicious friction against her clit when he filled her completely. She loved having him so close, pelvis to pelvis, the heat of their bodies coming together in a smacking kiss of flesh.
Her cries echoed through the forest. His deeper groans and grunts sounded so incredibly powerful over her more feminine sighs and moans. He was so strong. Sweat trickled down her spine. What he was doing to her was amazing, but the best feelings came whenever she looked into his eyes.
He was so intense. He stared at her as if he were marking her with his gaze. Those glowing irises bore into her, claiming her, and above all, the sensation she got from that look formed a tightness in her chest she didn’t dare name.
She was beginning to feel things for Christian she wasn’t quite ready to admit. Even to herself.
“Yes, Delilah,” he whispered.
She gasped as he thrust faster as if fueled by some new burst of energy. Calluses formed under her fingers from the branch as her he took her hard. Her body flounced like a rag doll, but he never let go, never made her worry he might drop her. He would never drop her. The tightness constricted around her heart again.
Fuck. Her mind detoured from the pleasure as her heart swelled. Her chest was going to burst if these emotions didn’t stop ganging up on her. Pressure built in her throat. Flashes of her empty apartment filled her mind, interwoven with erotic images of what he was doing to her.
He touched her. He claimed her. He owned her. He took her without asking because he was so certain she belonged with him, that they belonged to each other. She’d been so damn lonely, yet hadn’t realized it until he’d showed up.
The ache in her chest grew painful. Her eyes prickled and she gasped for air. She should hate him. He took her, took her life away, her choices, but she knew the pain she was being overwhelmed by was love. But people didn’t love people who derailed their lives.
She had dreams. She had a shop, a home, friends, and a routine.
&nb
sp; Her body was creeping toward a very intense orgasm. She didn’t even need to concentrate—certain it was coming no matter what. That’s how good he fucked her. Her mind became a chaotic mess of contradictions.
She was going home. She could stay. She didn’t want to be an Amish vampyre, but she also didn’t want to go back to her lonely life. She didn’t want to give him up.
Choices. All she had was tons of choices ahead of her and no fucking answers.
She screamed as her climax sliced through her, ripping up her spine, cutting off all thought. Heat flooded her sex as Christian tipped his head back and roared out his own release. Her body choked down on his cock still pumping inside of her and she sobbed as pleasure pulsed outward from her chest to her fingers and toes.
Her scalp tingled and her sobs of pleasure transformed into sobs of confusion. Her head bowed and she cried out. Her body was still rippling from her orgasm. Christian stiffened.
“Delilah?” There was panic in his voice.
Her hands had been gripping the branch so tightly he had to pry them open. She was gathered into his arms as she continued to cry. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Delilah, did I hurt you?”
The sensation of him withdrawing from her only made her cry more. She hid from his scrutiny, pressing her damp face into the collar of his shirt. Her eyes were seriously leaking and she couldn’t seem to stop.
Lowering his body to the ground, his hands gripped the side of her head, gently tugged her face away from his shirt so that he could look into her eyes. She screwed her lids shut.
“Delilah, look at me.”
She shook her head tightly.
“Please, pintura. Tell me what is wrong. Have I hurt you?”
If not for the worry in his voice she would’ve ignored him. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets and wiped away her ridiculous tears. “You didn’t hurt me, Christian. I loved it.” Her voice was as rough as sand paper.
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m confused.”
“Confused?”
His hands roamed over her clothing, soothing, comforting, and drawing her close. She could sense his concern, which bordered on panic moments ago.
Call Her Mine Page 21
