by K Loraine
Long fingers thread through my damp hair, the feel of his touch bringing me back to myself. He releases my throat and stares at me, wonder in his gaze. “Thank you, sweetness. You don’t know what a gift you’ve just given me.”
My nipples are hard and tight, nearly painful with arousal. In fact, my entire body is heated and ready for more. “You didn’t kill me.”
He shakes his head. “Of course I didn’t.”
“But the curse. I should have died.”
A frown mars his brow. “What curse? I’ve heard you say this once before.”
“I think it’s the reason we’re brought together no matter what. I’m cursed to face my darkest fear. I thought it was the Blackthornes, but it must simply be vampires.”
“Blackthornes,” he murmurs.
“They killed my ancestor. Well, they had a hand in killing her. It was terrible.”
He nods. “I’m familiar.”
“I’m…connected to Sarah, my ancestor. Not just connected. We share a soul. I’ve seen things. Felt what she felt when they were going to hang her. I…don’t want to end up like that.”
“You won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
I lock gazes with him and watch as the angry burns on his face slowly heal, leaving him perfect and dangerous to my willpower. Reaching out, I trail my fingertips over the sharp line of his jaw. “Amazing,” I whisper.
“It’s because of you. Thank you for putting aside your fears and letting me take shelter. For giving me your blood.”
“It was touch and go there for a while. I really thought about killing you.”
“I know. I saw it on your face. You’re rather like an open book.”
I can’t keep from smiling. That’s what Gran always said about me. “Anyway, if you meant me harm, you wouldn’t have been able to get past the wards.” The spells Persephone cast to protect the house were strong enough that no one, save a powerful witch with time to unravel the magic, could bring them down.
“You’re right. I don’t mean you any harm. In fact, I mean to make you feel very good. If you’ll allow it.”
Excitement runs up my spine. “You already did.”
“Oh, that was just the beginning. You’re mine. You’re made for me. I can feel it in your blood.”
“Yours?”
“My mate. I don’t know how to explain it. I thought this was something reserved for turned vampires rather than born, but everything in me says I have to protect and care for you.”
My stomach drops. I can’t be a vampire’s mate. I’ve done everything to stay away from them, to protect my coven from their kind. Standing, I remove myself from the tempting man’s reach, needing space. “This can’t be happening.”
“Do you hate vampires so much you can’t admit what you must feel?”
I want him. In fact, I want him more than I’ve wanted anyone…ever. But I can’t be with a vampire. Can I? Not as his mate. “I just…It’s not who I am. I’m not the witch who falls for a vampire. I’m the witch who makes charms to hide people from them.” I think of my friend Logan, the hunter I recently provided that very type of charm for. Has he used it? Is it working? I work hard to keep us all away from these creatures and now I’ve let one feed from me. I’ve saved him. I’m desperate for him to make me his. Am I a fraud if I let myself have Silas?
He rises and stalks toward me. Apprehension and arousal coil in my belly. I want him to touch me again, but I’m afraid of him because of what he is. “You’re whatever you wish to be, sweetness. If what you want is to have me as yours, no one can tell you different. Regardless, I’m trapped here until we figure out how to break this curse. I’m not letting you out of my sight until that happens. We are linked, and I won’t be dragged into the sun again.”
I bite my lower lip and force myself not to lean closer to him. “I agree. We have to break the curse.”
He steps nearer, his big body towering over mine. “And I’ll need to feed again.”
My throat is tight, and I have to swallow past the lump of anxiety that has taken residence. “From?”
A smirk turns up his lips. “You.”
Instinctively, I take a sharp breath. God, he smells good. “Pheromones,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Vampire pheromones. That’s the only explanation for the way my body reacts to you.”
“Perhaps,” he leans in and cups my nape at the same time, “you should give your body what it craves.”
A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine. “Should I?”
“I fucking think so. Let’s make the most of this curse while we can.”
That does sound like the best way to spend this time. In bed with him. I could move on with my life after this, leave him behind and have one wild time in the interim. “I’m not going to fall in love with you. So don’t get any ideas.”
His grin widens, displaying a hint of his fangs. I’m not going to lie to myself and say the sight of them doesn’t send a thrill that has nothing to do with fear through me. “Sweetness, you’re already halfway there. I promise.”
Then he’s on me, shoving me up against the wall, kissing me with a ferocity I’ve never experienced. It’s heat and need and desperation all rolled into one. His tongue pushes between my parted lips, dancing with mine, and I taste blood. My blood. That only serves to fan the flame of lust inside me. Whatever this is between us, it’s highly combustible. I might be a witch, but he’s caught me in his web as sure as if he were the weaver of spells.
He shoves my skirt up my hips before lifting me easily with his other hand. In one smooth tear, my panties are gone, shreds on the old wood floor. “Do you need this to be slow? God help me, but I can try if that’s what you want.” His voice is rough with restraint.
“No. If you go slow, I swear, I’ll use the stake they left me and kill you.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the vampire fits the crown of his thick erection to my entrance and sinks inside until he’s as deep as he can get. The rough drag of his breath makes me moan in pleasure. “We can’t have that.” His words are tight and punctuated by long, deep thrusts.
“Silas, fuck,” I say on a harsh groan.
Large palms grip my hips, holding me in place as he pounds into me over and over. The windows rattle from the force of his hips and the pressure of him as he slams inside me makes my toes curl as an orgasm hurtles forward like a freight train.
“Wrap your arms around me,” he orders. I do. I hold onto him for dear life because he’s taking me straight over the edge and into bliss. I’ll go anywhere he wants.
He turns us and begins walking toward the bed. Honestly, I didn’t hate the wall sex, but the idea of him hovering over me as he fills me sounds like exactly what I need. But he doesn’t lay me out before him. He sits with me straddling him. “Ride me until you find your release,” he growls.
I don’t need to be told twice. I wrap my legs around his waist and grip him by the hair as I roll my hips, brushing my clit over his chiseled abdomen. A familiar ache takes hold in my core and blossoms into an explosion of pure euphoria. I cry his name and clench around him, all the while he’s groaning and kissing my jaw and neck, nibbling my earlobe, whispering dirty things into my ear. Then he tenses and I feel him pulse inside me. He comes with a roar, and I dig my nails into his back as aftershocks jolt through me.
“Fucking hell.” The words are breathy and filled with awe as he falls onto his back on the mattress.
“That’s an understatement.”
“I knew we’d be explosive, but I think my heart nearly gave out.”
I laugh, and the movement makes me very aware he’s still inside me. Still hard. “Aren’t you spent?”
A low rumble emanates from his chest. “I’ve waited a lifetime for you. I doubt I’ll ever be spent.”
Something in my chest gives a squeeze. I think it’s my heart. I barely know this man, and he’s a vampire for God’s sake, but that was one of the swoonier thi
ngs I’ve ever heard. “You’re dangerous.”
“Am I? You’re the one who threatened murder.” He grabs my arm and pulls me down next to him. “Do you really have a stake?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
11
Silas
I listen to the rhythmic thrumming of Natalie's heart and the soft tapping of rain on the windowpane. There's a slice of light seeping inside from the part between curtains, but it's far enough away to not be a danger to me. The weight of day, however, is another story. My body aches with fatigue. Bone weary, my mother used to say.
“What's made you go all strong and silent?" Natalie asks, her fingers running in slow strokes over the exposed skin of my forearm.
“My kind sleep during the day, remember?"
She giggles, ever so lightly. "Right. It's weird, I forget you're a vampire because you have a heartbeat. You breathe. You're warm enough to pass for human."
"I was born. It's different for those who are made. They have to die first to become what they are."
"So, your parents are vampires?" She snuggles into my chest, and as exhausted as I am, I don't want to stop this for any reason.
"They were. My line goes back nearly to the beginning."
"How old are you?"
"Older than I look. My body stopped aging around thirty-five. It's different for all of us."
Sliding away from me, she props her head on one hand and assesses me. "How old?"
“Over four hundred." A soft gasp comes from her and I don’t dare look. I can’t see rejection on her face yet. I haven’t had enough of her. We have until nightfall. That’s what she promised me.
"Wow. So, you've seen history. Like in real life. God, the things I want to ask you." There’s so much excitement in her voice, I can't stop my smile when I lock gazes with her.
“Ask away."
“Were you in the Revolutionary War? What about the Civil War? Did you fight? Please tell me you didn’t own slaves.”
“I didn’t fight in either war. We…took our own side. I spent much of my life in England, some here.” I catch my blunder, not wanting to let on that when I say here that’s exactly what I mean. “In America. No, we didn’t own slaves. We did have servants and willing blood donors.”
She takes her lower lip between her teeth again and trains those big eyes on me. I can tell she wants to ask me more.
“Go on, then.”
“Was the moon landing faked? Did Oswald act alone?”
“I’m a vampire, not a psychic.”
“But you have to know more than the rest of us. I mean, the sheer amount of things you’ve—”
I grin and lean in to shut her up with a kiss. My lips on hers turn from tender to hungry and I roll on top of her, pinning her soft body to the bed and fitting myself between her thighs. She moans in response, her hand sliding down my back and over my tattered shirt.
“This time, we need to take it slower, and with less clothing,” she whispers. She grips the fabric and tugs it over my head, baring my torso for her inspection. Her lips quirk into a smile and she looks down my body. “Mmm, score one for the vampire gene.”
I laugh. “Your turn.”
I help her free of her shirt, then pull the skirt over her hips and down her legs until she’s bared to me. My cock is stiff and throbbing at the sight of her—round tits, full hips, perfect curves. Her fingers run over my chest until she stops, a frown marring her brow. My stomach drops. She’s staring at the faint scar directly under my sternum.
“What is this?”
I take her hand and move it away from the raised edges of the circular burn. “Something from a long time ago.”
“It’s a pentacle.”
I nod. “A punishment. A reminder.”
“Of what?”
“My past.”
“We use pentacles for protection. They’re not meant to be given as punishment.”
I need to change the subject. Now’s not the time to share my history with her. “You said something about taking more time. This isn’t what I thought you meant.”
She pulls me closer and brushes our lips together, her tongue pressing inside my mouth. I can’t control my fangs as they descend and I taste her blood. She doesn’t stop, though. Her moan is rough and needy, and I give her a small bit of my blood in repayment for what I took. I need to bond with her—bond her to me and make her mine. The urge is beyond all reasoning. Once she’s bound to me, she’ll understand.
“Let me feed again, let me have you, Natalie.”
“What if you take too much? You already—”
“I’ll replenish what I take. If you’ll let me.”
Her eyes find mine, and she takes a long, shuddering breath. Her palm runs down my abdomen and to my still open trousers. I should have taken the damned things off the first time I fucked her rather than rushing things. Then I wouldn’t have to sacrifice time away from the heaven of her body. I shove my pants down my legs, tossing them to the floor and using the opportunity to place my shoulders between her thighs. The treasure of her cunt is beckoning me to taste her.
“Silas,” she moans when I kiss my way closer to the place I want to be.
“No talking. Let me make you come.”
“Okay.” She relaxes on the bed but tenses the instant I touch her. My lips venture along her inner thigh as my fingers press inside her warm, wet body. She lifts her hips and cries out, but I’m not even close to done with her yet. I move my mouth to close over her clit, licking and sucking as my fingers move back and forth. She’s delicious. I knew she would be.
Her hands grip my hair, tugging hard as her breaths turn to harsh pants. Her thighs tremble, everything tightens in her, and I feel her orgasm before she lets out a scream of pleasure. It coats my fingers, begs me to lap it up and cover myself in her scent. Then, while she’s still riding the wave, I shift my mouth to the juncture between her pussy and her leg. That special place that hides the femoral artery. My bite catches her at just the right time, the moment between the edge of her orgasm and the beginning of the afterglow. Instead of fading to nothing more than a memory, she moans again and her walls clench around my fingers as I feed deeply. Deep enough to be able to seal our bond.
I stop when her pulse slows and get to my knees while gathering her in my arms. The two of us kneel together on the bed, her cheek on my chest, my cock an aching length of steel between us. I kiss the top of her head and pull away long enough to grab the blade I’d commandeered from her off the floor by the bed. Then I drag the sharp edge across my chest, right over my heart.
“Drink, Natalie. Be mine as I am yours.” The words are harsh and laced with desire and fear. She could reject my offer, leave me forever, and I’d have to let her.
But her tongue darts out and she licks the line of my blood until she’s latched over the wound and is drinking me down. I feel our souls entwining with every pull she takes, but I won’t turn her. I’d never do that unless it were something she wanted. When our bond is in place, I gently move her to the bed.
“Sleep, my mate.” I brush her hair to one side and press a kiss to the slight mark my fangs left on her. I’ll tell her who I am when the sun sets, after I’ve had time to rest. I’ll tell her the truth, my history, all of it, because at least now, even if she leaves, she’ll always be connected to me. I’ll protect her whether she wants it or not.
12
Natalie
Silas is gone when my eyes flutter open. It must be early evening, because the sunlight has shifted from one side of the house to the other. Where is he? Is he all right? God, why do I care? Because he’s right. We’re connected in a way I can’t explain. My mouth tastes like spices and wine. It’s strange and wonderful all at once. Then I remember the moment we shared. Something I never thought I’d do. I drank his blood, gave him mine, gave him all of me. There’s nothing about that I’m disgusted by, but I should be. Shouldn’t I? All my life I’ve run from the idea of vampires. Now I’m falling for one.<
br />
I take a long breath and get to my feet, my thighs deliciously sore, slightly bruised from his hips. I can’t stop the wicked smile that curves my lips at the memory of him fucking me against the wall, me riding him in search of my release. A shiver runs down my spine and arousal has my thighs clenching. I want him again.
Power hums in my blood as well, strength I haven’t had since the curse. From what we’d done, or from my spell earlier, I’m not sure. I dress quickly, pulling the pentacle charm from the pocket of my skirt. Now’s the time to try and conjure that chest. I need to see what secrets Sarah Good was hiding.
Walking to the corner, I hold my palm over the same place I’d tried before. “Retego,” I say.
This time the same thing I saw in my vision happens for me. The chest rises from the hidden place under the floor and comes to me. Excitement fills my belly, and everything tightens with anticipation. “Yes!” I exclaim, catching myself because there’s likely a vampire sleeping somewhere nearby. The root cellar, maybe.
I hold out the pentacle, and it flies to the lock immediately. The light emanating from the chest is now almost blinding. Creeping closer, I reach out and open the lid. Inside I find a grimoire, power radiating from it, as well as a pentacle that matches mine. They seem like they could be two parts of the same whole.
I take the charm and grab mine, holding them together. They connect with a shower of sparks and, exactly as I suspected, become one. “Shit,” I whisper.
Draping the chain around my neck, I let the heavy metal sit between my breasts, the power strong inside me now. Then I reach for the grimoire. I flip through page after page of Sarah’s notes. Spells and incantations written in ink by candlelight. I can almost smell the melting wax. I stop and stare at the pages, energy humming from the book. My heart races as the pages begin to turn on their own. Faster and faster, they flip until they stop. I stare down at the spell. Nearly the same spell Gran had given me to say.
