Dmetri looked in the review mirror and saw Brayden sitting with the young girl next to him, his arm banded tightly around her shoulders. She slowly looked up at Brayden with a glare as mean as the devil’s.
“I hate you.”
The only indication that Brayden took heart to her words was a slight furrowing of his brow that was gone again a moment later.
“I know,” he said.
Chapter 21
Christine had a plan. Was it good? Probably not considering she’d thought it up after drinking a bottle of wine with Vera. Still, she lumbered up the stairs to his cabin and tried the door handle—it opened easily.
“Sweet.”
He was out somewhere, probably doing Justicar things. She closed the door behind her and stared at the couch. Memories of their first time together, after Dmetri was attacked by Claude, were still fresh as if it happened yesterday.
“Good times,” she said, petting the couch as she walked by it, “but you won’t do tonight.”
She stopped at the hallway and closed her eyes as the walls swayed side to side. Whoa, there. After a good deep breath, she continued down the hall to the small bedroom.
This was her one last chance. It was either this or nothing, and she couldn’t blow it. She pulled off her clothes with clumsy hands that didn’t want to work, and then lie down on the bed.
That mattress was stiff and not nearly as comfortable as her own, but still her eyes started to flutter shut. She forced them open until her eyes burned. But it was useless. They closed and she didn’t open them again until she heard the front door open sometime later.
She came to in an instant. Luckily, the dark room didn’t spin around her as it had before.
She actually lamented that the alcohol was nearly gone from her body, now she’d have to rely on her own courage without any excuses.
She heard the footsteps stop at the front door, and then the door closing softly. The steps came and she recognized the sound of his shiny black loafers on the wood floors. Click, click, click. He appeared in the doorway a moment later. His hair was disheveled, windblown, and looked like he’d run it through with his fingers. But his eyes held her prisoner. They landed on her, piercing with intensity, before slowly traveling down her naked body. Her body responded to his perusal. When his eyes met her stomach, it clenched in response; when they traveled over her legs, she spread them the barest of inches.
He cleared his throat. His voice hoarse he said, “This is a welcome surprise.” The corner of her mouth curved up with a hint of a smile. “Hi.” He came into the room and stared unbuttoning his shirt, baring inches of pale, hard chest and skin. He dropped the shirt to the floor and began tugging on his belt.
“If I could always come home to you like this I’d forever be a happy man.” She chuckled at the way he said it—seriously as if he meant it. And he probably did. If only she didn’t love him.
“Where were you?” she asked.
He sighed and the belt hit the ground. “Had an impromptu meeting with the new Master of Claude’s clan. We’ve made an arrangement with him.”
“Oh.”
She watched as his hands reached for the button of his trousers and opened it. Her mouth watered, tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. He started to pull the zipper down, but she held out her hand to stop him.
“Wait...let me.”
His eyebrow cocked in surprise but he moved his hands away. Christine walked over to him, putting a little extra sway in her hips that drew his attention. She stopped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing kisses across his chest. His chest expanded against her lips with each breath he took; so full of life, so virile.
Slowly, she kissed her way down the middle of his stomach, in the indentation between the sets of muscles he packed there. The muscles bunched and flexed under her touch, sending her own breathing shaky.
“Millaya moya, what are you doing?”
The sweet endearment in that thick accent made her feel even sexier. She felt drugged, needy, and eager for his touch—to touch him. She pulled down his zipper with a gentle tug and swept his pants around his ankles. The black silk boxers he wore contrasted dramatically against his pale skin.
His cock, erect and hard thrust against the flimsy barrier, begging her to touch it. And so she did.
With one last longing look up at him, she took in everything. The heated, possessive look in his eyes, the slackened look of pleasure across his face, and then she covered his silken cock with her mouth.
The black silk grew wet under her mouth, clung to his rigid staff like a second skin.
Dmetri tensed, hands clenching before slowly releasing. He kept his hands stiffly at his sides as if he struggled with the need to touch her, or at least that’s what she hoped.
She trailed her mouth over him twice before she’d had enough. She wanted to feel the heat of him on her tongue, wanted to taste him and not the cloth. With a vicious tug, she yanked his boxers down, then lovingly grabbed his thick shaft.
His thighs bunched hard, breathing grew labored, and it was like music to her ears.
Between her legs she grew wet and hot. She wanted him to touch her, but first she wanted to torture them, and prolong the pleasure for as long as she could. Because she knew, that if he touched her right now, she’d fly apart and be done for.
So she sucked him deep, learning the taste, texture, and feel of him against her tongue.
He was warm, so much warmer than he usually was. Hard but soft as the silk of his boxers, he filled her deep and wide, spreading her lips open until her jaw nearly protested. She curled her fist around him at the base, squeezing and tugging gently as she sucked him in repeatedly. His breathing came out in pants, and she loved the sound.
“Christine.” He said her name as if he were choking.
She only smiled as she rubbed her tongue along his shaft up to the round head; she followed the path with her fist. The wetness from her mouth made the pass an easy glide as she pumped him up and down.
“I do not want to come in your mouth,” he warned.
She moaned around him and dove down until he neared the back of her throat. Slowly, she sucked on him as she retreated up to the tip of his cock. Her mouth made a wet popping sound like she was pulling out a sucker as she released him.
“Oh, really? Well this tells a different story,” she said, pumping him in a steady rhythm.
“Perhaps, but you will listen to me,” he said between clenched teeth.
It took Christine all of a second to think about it, and then she closed her mouth around him again bobbed over him, filling her mouth, licking him, sucking. Her hand pumped him at the base, and his cock actually flexed in her palm, growing hotter under her ministrations.
“Christine,” he warned.
Her sex pooled with hot cream, nipples pulled tight into hard points. She couldn’t resist trailing her own hand across her breasts, scraping the hard nipples across her palm before squeezing a plump breast. She needed this, and so did he.
His breathing grew heavy and labored; hips rocked thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. Christine moaned at the heady, masculine taste of him coating her tongue. She wanted his release to fill her, spill down her throat. She didn’t have to wait long.
He choked out her name in a garbled growl, and then his cock pulsed hard in her hand.
She jerked her hand faster and felt the pent-up pressure grow inside him. With a harsh cry, his hands finally tangled in her hair to hold her. He pushed deep and then hot, silken streams shot into her mouth. She heard moans, her and his, as she drank all of him, swallowing his hot creamy essence.
The hands in her hair vibrated, and she realized he was shaking. Christine pulled back to take in his pleasure-drenched features. His eyes could barely stay open; his lips were wet and parted, thighs trembling with the effort to hold himself up. He looked gorgeous and satisfied, and she’d done that.
Her heart swelled in her chest until it was on
the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him. But she couldn’t.
Dmetri finally opened his eyes. The look in his eyes was so dark and possessive that it reminded her of the way Vane looked at Sarina. It was a look she’d always craved, but had never gotten. Though her eyes may be playing tricks on her, or her heart was anyways. This might be wishful seeing.
“Come here,” he said and pulled her up against him. His arms came around her, pulling her close.
She rested her cheek against his heart, listening to the pounding beat. Her eyes closed and she sighed against him, loving the feel of his hands caressing her back up and down. His touch mesmerized her, made her feel like she was floating somewhere way up high in the sky.
The beating of his heart suddenly pounded hard and fast. Christine yanked herself away and saw Dmetri glaring towards the front of the house. The sound came again, and this time registered in her muddled mind as knocking.
“Stay here,” he said and quickly pulled on his pants.
Christine debated on dressing with him, but decided to huddle against the bedroom door and listen instead. What she heard made her pale. Her mother was here.
* * *
Dmetri flung open the door, ready to fight whoever dared to interrupt his time with Christine. It seemed like he was finally making some leeway with her. Soon, he’d capture Master Claude and have her luscious body sleeping next to him every night. Who he saw on the other side of the door had his erection deflating so fast he felt the blood from his cock rushing back through his body on a surge.
“What the fuck do you want?”
Christine’s mother flattened her lips. “I want you to get my daughter right now. I’m taking her home. She doesn’t belong with you, vampire.” Dmetri almost laughed. “Actually, she does belong to me.” Her eyes bulged like they were trying to escape her skull. “You mated with her? You turned her into a sick, bloodsucking vampire?”
Dmetri barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mate with her, and I have no intention of doing that. You know if you lightened up a bit you might just realize that I’m a helluva catch.”
“A good catch? Please, don’t make me laugh. She deserves better than you, and I’ll see to it that she gets it.”
Dmetri’s temper steadily grew inside him. “And have you ever asked her what she wants?”
She jerked at the response. “What are you talking about?” Dmetri’s hand curled hard around the doorframe. “I said have you ever asked her what she wants, or who she wants to be with?”
Her piercing eyes narrowed on him. “I wish to speak with my daughter, now! Christine, I know you’re in there. Come out here now!” she called into the house.
Dmetri moved his body to block the door. No way was he letting Christine leave with her. “You’re a selfish old hag, you know that?”
He smiled and realized he was starting to have a good time talking to this witch. It created a stir of strange feelings inside of him, one of them he recognized, possessiveness.
Surprise flitted through him because he realized he didn’t mind feeling possessive, not over Christine. He wanted her too badly. Needed more time with her, much more. He was prepared to put up a fight for her—and he never lost a fight.
She seethed in outrage. “A foul-mouthed parasite, that’s all you are. See, in two minutes of talking you’ve already proven how unfit you are for my precious daughter. She’s too good for the likes of you.”
Something she said hit a little too close to home. “Well, she’s too good for you too. At least I won’t force her into being with someone for my own gain.” This time her mother laughed the sound high and giddy. Her eyes shined bright with satisfaction. “And aren’t you doing that same thing with her? Don’t think I haven’t heard that you’ve been trying to get her to leave with you after this mess is all cleaned up. Is that not for your own gain, vampire?” She smiled triumphantly.
Dmetri felt like he’d just walked into a trap, because he did. He could try to turn the words around and twist them to fit his purposes, but she spoke the truth. He was trying to force his own needs on Christine. But dammit, it was for the best for both of them. A cold chill raced down his spine. Wasn’t that how her mother felt, too? That she was only looking out for Christine’s best interest?
“I see I’ve finally made you come to your senses, vampire. Hand Christine over to me now and be done with this. She’ll marry an Alpha and be happy.”
“No,” he said, his voice rising. The thought of her mating with an Alpha made his skin crawl as if a thousand ants were racing over him.
A thin eyebrow lifted. “Oh? But you won’t mate with her. How good of you to at least spare me that. What do you plan to do then? Keep her on as your mistress for as long as it suits you? Like she’s some kind of whore?”
Dmetri’s blood pumped fast as anger grew inside of him. He wanted to lash out at her, slam the door in her grinning face, but...her words struck a chord he couldn’t ignore.
“She’ll be home in the morning,” he said, and slammed the door in her face.
Dmetri leaned back against the door, feeling as though his whole world had just been knocked upside down. Christine poked her head out of the bedroom door then walked up to him.
The heat that had filled her eyes was now gone and replaced by apprehension. He hated seeing that look in her eyes. He wanted to wipe it clean and get her back to how she had been.
“Maybe I should just go—” she said.
Dmetri stiffened. “You heard everything?”
She nodded and the lead ball in his stomach dropped through the floor. His temples decided now was the best time to start hurting; it felt like a hammer banging on wood.
“I’m sorry about my mother.”
Dmetri didn’t say anything for a long minute. Instead, he studied her eyes trying like hell to read a response from her. What did she think of what she heard? Did she too just realize that he had the same motives as her mother, with only a slight difference?
“Let’s go back into the bedroom,” he said.
She shook her head slowly. “No, first I need to tell you something.” Dmetri tensed, waiting.
She took a deep breath and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. She was so pretty, he couldn’t resist touching her, so he cupped her cheek. The heat from the blush warmed his cool hand.
“I...I need to tell you something.”
“Yes, you’ve said that.” Whatever she had to say must be important, because instead of saying it she looked down and twiddled with her hands. Dmetri’s gut tightened with unease. He had two hunches. “Out with it.” He tried to say it gently, but he was on edge and it came out more as a growl.
She shook her head firmly, and then cleared her throat. “Yes, well, this is awkward and all, but I just wanted to tell you that I have...feelings for you.” Panic flared instantly. He kept his expression cool to hide the warning signs going off inside him.
“Okay...”
The blush grew brighter and he took his hand away. “I, um, I think that I love...you.” She now stared hard at the floor, jaw set, flips flat, and the blush spreading down past her neck.
It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and the scariest news he’d ever heard. When he didn’t say anything, her shoulders sagged, and she looked up at him with wide doe-eyes that made his gut clench even tighter. Slowly, she started nodding, and then she turned and walked away.
I can’t let her get away!
The thought ran frantically through his mind, but he stilled his body from going after her.
He took a step towards her, but stopped himself. This was for the best. A clean break before he convinced her to come home with him. Definitely for the best, he told himself.
She came shuffling back in a few minutes later, her clothes back on. Her eyes didn’t meet his. Dmetri’s fist tightened to keep from reaching for her. Damn it, he wanted to wrap her back up in his arms and kiss her until all talk of love was gone. He wanted her to look at him, smile again with
that smile that made even his miserable ass happy. He hated himself in that moment, had never felt more like an ass. He’d done that. He’d made her feel like this. And nothing he could do would fix it.
She paused before him. Dmetri held his breath, wishing she’d say something that would put them back on terms where they’d been. But she said something else that rocked him on his feet.
“I won’t see you anymore, Dmetri. It’s been fun.” She laughed but the sound was sad. “I, uh, hope that maybe you turn around one day before I completely put you out of my life.” Then she opened the door and left. And he let her go.
Chapter 22
Christine never let herself cry. Not even during sappy movies that she liked to watch on occasion. But tonight, there was no holding back.
She opened the door to her house and was met with complete silence. Her home was empty and cold, so fitting to how she felt right now.
She climbed into bed fully clothed, then stared up at the ceiling. Burning wet liquid pushed at her eyelids, but she strained, staring at the ceiling, refusing to let a single tear fall. If she did, then she’d be done for. There would be no stopping it.
She knew what his response would be after she told him. “God, I can’t believe I’m actually surprised,” she said with a shaky laugh. Still, she’d hoped.
She was stupid; it was as simple as that. It didn’t matter. She was going to tell him tonight anyway, she’d just wanted some time to be with him again before she did.
The burning liquid behind her eyes wouldn’t be contained anymore. The first tear slipped down past her temple and into her hair. More followed like little chicks following their mother.
A harsh sob broke from her, the sound nasty and bitter. Christine rolled onto her side, pulling a pillow tight against her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the crying to stop.
She didn’t know how long she lay there, listlessly. The dark night painted her room in shadows that moved with the swaying of the trees outside, creating dancing figures along her wall. She had to make a decision for herself, she realized. She was always letting someone else run her life.
T. A. Grey Page 14
