by Krysta Fox
"That was unbelievable. Thank you for showing that to me."
I slide my fingers along her jaw. "I'm so pleased you liked it. I don't get to share that with many people. And never like this." I tip her chin toward me, kissing those full ruby lips again. Time is slipping too quickly away and I already know it won't be enough. I want so much more with her.
We break apart, both breathing heavier. "Carver," she says, her voice quiet and dazed. "Mind if I ask you a question?
"Not at all."
"Will you need to feed before you rest?"
This question is a surprise. Few people know much about vampires, beyond what Hollywood has shown them. And while feeding is expected, it's rare to have someone who understands that we don't truly die at dawn. Instead, our bodies go dormant, resting during the day, coming awake as the sun descends and night fully takes over.
"I’ll be fine, love. You don't need to be afraid."
She turns in the circle of my arms, her beautiful full breasts making me catch my breath as she presses into me. "I'm not afraid. But I understand hunger. How hard it can be to fight against." Her fingers trail over the skin of my chest, lingering on the nipple which immediately hardens in response.
"Of course you would. Your wolf is powerful. I'm sure you had to learn a great deal of control living with her."
Surprise flashes in her eyes and I kiss her lips as they open to question me. "Everything about you screams wolf, Devon. Impossible to miss. Or resist."
Feeling her relax in my arms loosens something in my chest. What she says next takes my breath away. "Would you like to feed? From me?"
My cock jumps at the very thought. To feed from this woman, to truly taste her in every way, is more than I would've dared to ask her for. "I'd love to taste you. I'm honored by your offer. But only if that's what you want."
She winds her fingers into my hair, pulling my lips to hers for a long kiss. Looking up at me from under her lashes, she says, "I definitely want it."
The heart I'd thought long dead races in response. "I'm not going to deny you anything tonight. Much less something I want so much."
I guide her over me, the feel of her sliding over my thick shaft like the tease of silk over skin. Devon leans forward, pushing me down into the mattress, her strength rivaling my own. I'm struck by her singular beauty as she watches me, a satisfied smile curving her full lips as she aligns her core over my hard length. The pleasure on her face as she slips down onto me, achingly slow inch by slow inch, is almost enough to undo me. When she's fully seated, the whole of me surrounded by her warmth, she throws her head back and begins to ride. I hold onto her hips, letting her take the lead.
Devon speeds up, her cries of enjoyment increasing, and I feel the flutter of her inner muscles tightening around me, faster and harder each time. I watch the play of emotions across her face, waiting for the right moment to give her what she asked for. Her arms are quivering and she slips even faster over my cock and it's then that I roll her under me in one smooth movement, thrusting hard over the deepest, most sensitive part of her. Two strokes, then a third, and she comes apart, crying my name.
That's when I strike. Her neck is exposed, the scent of her blood calling to me. My fangs are already fully extended and slide easily into her skin, piercing the vein beneath. The warm, tantalizing taste of her rushes into my mouth and she's clenching even harder around me as my cock moves inside her still, drawing out her pleasure even further. Her nails dig in as she holds onto me and we ride the climax together as I fill her full of me all over again.
As we slowly return to the present, I roll carefully onto my back once again, letting her rest on me. I press a kiss to her neck, sealing the wound with my saliva. She gives a sated sigh and looks up at me with those beautiful eyes.
"That was amazing." Her voice is soft, full of wonder, and a warmth settles into my chest.
Kissing her forehead, I whisper, "It truly was, love. Thank you for that gift."
She snuggles closer, fitting herself right up under my chin, and I hear her say, 'Thank you for all of this," before her breathing evens out and she falls asleep in my arms.
7
DEVON
I wake. The room is silent and dark around me. I'm wrapped in silken sheets and covered by the soft, heavy blanket. Rolling to the side, I see Carver, his face relaxed in deep rest. His arm slips off my hip, onto the top of the bed as I move. It's a rare moment of stillness for him and I take advantage of the chance to examine him. His dark hair is mussed, as if he'd run his fingers through it over and over again before falling to sleep. His long eyelashes rest against his cheek, those strong cheekbones and sculpted jaw line something I won't ever be able to forget. I tuck myself against him, running my fingers over his chest. He still feels warm, and the memory of the way he fed from me as we made love brings a rush of heat to my cheeks. It was so intensely pleasurable, parts of me tingle all over again from the thought of it. The idea of my blood sustaining him, warming him from within, makes me ridiculously happy.
The sound of an alert pulls my attention away from the glorious man in the bed with me. My phone is going off and I scramble, my feet tangled up in the sheets. By the time I'm able to free myself and get safely out of bed, I can hear the ringing has stopped. I follow the trail of clothes strewn across the bedroom floor, my toes curling into the deep, soft carpet. The lighting increases gradually as I move, enough to light my way but not bright enough to make me squint. Everything is set for automatic.
I find my purse just inside the door, resting on the decorative table. Digging through the bag, I search for my phone amidst all the other things I needed to have with me just in case something happened. My fingers close around the smooth case and I pull it out, feeling slightly triumphant. I'm not much for mornings so any accomplishment right after I get out of bed feels like I've won a race.
My voicemail alert goes off and I hit the button to listen. The ghoul's voice comes over the line.
"Ms. Orman, I'm sorry to have missed you. Please call me when you have a chance. I believe I have what you need. We can schedule a time to meet and go over the specifics. I look forward to hearing from you soon."
I sigh as his message ends. I'd still been reveling in the fantasy of last night. My eyes are drawn to Carver, to where he rests so comfortably in that large bed, where he'd held me and told me I was beautiful. I'd felt like a goddess.
"That's better than most people get," I say to myself, shaking my head. "Count your lucky stars, girl."
The very thought of stars makes me look up, the dazzling ceiling display still running. I sit on the edge of the bed, my head tipped back and my hand resting on the curve of Carver's calf from where he'd stuck his leg out as he succumbed to sleep. What would it be like to wake up every night with him, to watch the sky above swirl and dance forever? A lump forms in my throat as I realize exactly how much I wanted that to be my reality.
Forcing myself away from Carver, from the bed we'd shared, I prepare myself for the day. The ens suite bathroom has everything I needed to get ready. I could've indulged in a long, deep soak in the giant tub, scented oils surrounding it. Instead, I jump in the shower, turn the hot water on high and wash myself with soap that reminds me of the way Carver smells. If nothing else, I’d be able to carry his scent with me for today.
As I towel off, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright and unshadowed for the first time in months. I think back to that moment the night before, Carver stalking toward me, his voice a silky caress against my skin as he said, "You are amazingly beautiful." I hear it all over again, seeing the woman in the mirror that he saw last night. And in that moment, I believe it.
Confidence swells up within me, and I lift my chin, squaring my shoulders. I can do what must be done. I will do what must be done. It doesn't have to be easy, but I can do this. Putting the finishing touches on my hair and dashing a bit of makeup across my face takes only a few more minutes. I go back out to the
bedroom and dress quickly. My shirt is wrinkled, the lines pressed deeply into the silky fabric, and I bite my lip as I examine it. Anyone seeing this will easily guess that I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
I glance at the closet, the row of spare shirts I assume belong to Carver handing in a tidy row. I fold up my shirt and slip it into my large purse, then move to the closet and pick out a white button-up. The scent of Carver rises up as I pull it on, and I'm even more comforted. It's too big for me, but I tuck the ends into the waistband of my skirt and blouse it out slightly. Rolling the arms up to just below my elbows, I strike a quick pose in the gilt full-length mirror. A strong woman who knows her worth looks back at me. I smile at her and she smiles back.
Glancing at Carver, still asleep in the large bed, my heart flips over. His chest barely moves, giving a clue to why so many people assume that vampires die during the day. I go to him, press a kiss to his slightly parted lips. I want to stay, to be here when he wakes up and see where this could go. But I can't.
I grab my bag and walk to the door. A note on the table beside reminds me of the exit and lock codes. I type first one in and open the door, making sure it closes tight behind me, then locking it. He's too important to me. I won't endanger his safety.
I walk away, only to be stopped by an employee who steps from the office. He offers me a large cup of coffee with a lid secured on top.
"Hello, Miss. Mr. Montero asked me to meet you here. I'm to call a car for you if there's someplace you need to be, but we do have brunch set up for you as well, if you'd like to eat." He guides me down the hall to a small, private dining room. "This area is normally reserved for business meetings, but it seemed like it would be the most comfortable for you."
The table is set for one, with selections ranging from traditional breakfast fare to different lunch time options. I gave it all a quick once over, a bubble of unease growing in my chest. I want to rub it away, the ache behind my breastbone, but it's not possible. "Looks like you've done all this before." Hurt blooms, coloring my words, petty envy lending them bite. He'd made me feel special.
"Oh, never before, Miss." He leans in, giving me a conspiratorial wink. "To be honest, we're all very happy Mr. Carver has finally found someone. It's a lonely life for him, I think."
I look back over the food. It seems too perfect to have been spur of the moment. "If you've never done this for him, how did you put it all together so quickly. Or even know it was needed."
The man pulls a phone from his pocket. "Mr. Carver's instructions were clear and very detailed. We were to ensure your every comfort and convenience." He reads something off the screen. "She is quite important to me, Jonathan. Treat her like the special woman she is while I'm unavailable." He then twists the phone around so the screen faces me. The words are there, exactly as he read them out loud.
Heat colors my face and I give Jonathan a nod. "Thank you." Looking at the food longingly one more time, my stomach growls. I should be leaving, rushing from this place. But Carver's care for me, knowing he'd be resting when I woke, eases the tension riding me. Sliding into one of the chairs, I sip the delicious coffee that Jonathan had prepared. He smiles, delight on his face, and picks up a plate, adding anything I seem interested in to it.
As he sets it in front of me, he turns to go. "Jonathan? Will you join me? I'd like some company, if you don't mind."
He sits opposite me, his hands folded on top of each other. "Happily, Miss."
"You can call me Devon." I take a small bite of bacon, the crunch of it exactly the way I like. "So, have you worked here long?"
"I've worked with Mr. Carver since he came to Starlight City. It's only been in the last year that he's been able to do the things he'd planned. Like the restaurant. And some of the other businesses the Family owns. He's got amazing vision."
"Why do you call him Mr. Carver? Isn't his last name Montero?"
Jonathan chuckles. "He's like you. Told me to call him by his first name. It didn't feel right to me, so we agreed on a compromise."
I laugh. It's easy for me to imagine that conversation in minute detail. "He seems like a good man."
Jonathan nods. "He is, Miss Devon."
My phone rings, the shrill alert intruding between us. He stands without another word and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind him to give me some measure of privacy.
"Hello," I answer.
"Ms. Orman, so glad I was able to reach you." The ghoul's voice is rough, as if he hadn’t slept. "Would you be available to meet with me in an hour? I have some documents I'd like to review with you."
My heart sinks a little at his efficiency, surprising me. I'd been so sure of my decision, the course of action I needed to take. I just hadn't expected him to be so quick about it. But delaying what has to happen won't fix anything.
"I will see you in an hour."
He thanks me as he ends the call and I return to my breakfast, my appetite gone. It feels now like a stone has settled in my stomach and my wolf growls at me, the sound vibrating through my mind. I can feel her pressing up through my skin, threatening to take control and fight to stay with the one she has chosen to claim. I bite down, my teeth breaking through the skin of my lower lip, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. The copper bright flavor snags her focus and she settles slightly, allowing me to remain in control. I don't need to have poor Jonathan return to find an angry wolf separated from her mate. That would be disastrous.
The full impact of that thought hits me. Mate. How had that happened so quickly?
My hand shakes as I sip the coffee that only minutes ago had tasted divine. I close my eyes as my blood pounds behind my eyes. What was supposed to be one final night, a chance to say goodbye to the life I'd be leaving behind, had suddenly turned into something much bigger. Something completely unintended.
Jonathan knocks on the door. I raise my gaze to see him watching me intently, concern written clearly on his face. "Is everything all right, Miss? Can I get you something?"
I shake my head, taking a calming breath. "Not right now, thank you. But I do have someplace I need to be. In just under an hour. Can you call me a car?"
He smiles, nodding as he backs out of the room. "Absolutely. I'll have one ready for you."
I try to smile, but it's fleeting and it feels more like I'm baring my teeth. Left alone again, I prepare myself for what I have to do next.
8
CARVER
I awake as the sun eases below the horizon. Normally, it's a gradual awareness that emerges, but tonight, it's sudden. I reach to the space beside me and my heart falls when I find it cold and empty. It isn't really a surprise, but hope doesn't always listen to logic. I'd simply wanted Devon to be there, beside me, to wrap her in my arms and hold her close again.
Easing my way from the bed, I make my way to the small refrigerator hidden inside a cabinet. I don't normally like to drink my dinner cold, but it'll do for now. As the chilled blood hits my system, I can feel life spreading through me. My heart, dormant and almost completely silent as I rested, returns to its normal rhythm and I take a deep breath.
The scent of her hits me and my fangs descend on their own, ready to taste her all over again. "Well, now. This could be a problem," I tell myself, chuckling as I take another drink. "Take a cold shower and get yourself under control."
My cock doesn't want to listen, the unique perfume that is Devon already stirring him to life. I swallow the last drops from the cold bottle and make my way to the bathroom. But even there, she's left behind evidence of her presence. The few glimmering strands of her that had shed as she'd run a brush through the long waves, the towel she'd used to dry the water from her silken skin. The ache in my shaft grows heavier, making me groan, and I force myself into the shower, turning it immediately to the high-pressure setting. The icy water pelts my skin, distracting me, giving me the chance to regain control. The need recedes and my mind turns to the problem at hand. Last night with her was wonderful. Amazing. And the idea of
not having that again makes my heart twist in my chest.
I step out, using the towel hanging beside the shower to dry myself. The subtle scent of her rises up again and the realization that she used this towel hours ago brings all those same feelings to the surface again. The urge to leave here, to find her and ask her to stay with me, swells up inside me. A knock at the outer door of the safe room snags my attention. I wrap the towel carefully around my waist and move to the entrance. The coded knock comes again, confirming it's Jonathan.
I key in the sequence to unlock the room and he enters, carefully closing the door behind him.
"Good evening, Jonathan. How are the preparations for tonight?"
"Smooth as ever, sir." He doesn't follow me as I move into the walk-in closet to choose a fresh set of clothing for the night. I close the door a fraction for privacy as I dry off quickly and dress. "Chef has the new menu planned for your review when you're available and there's a full list of reservations for the next month. Every table is booked. Except for your private table, of course."
I step out of the closet and give him a tight smile. "My private table? Think I'll be using that again anytime soon?"
Jonathan nods. "I believe, as the famous oracle says, All Signs Point to Yes."
I can't hold in my laughter. "The Magic 8 Ball. Good one, Jon."
"Thank you, sir. I've been practicing."
"And my guest? Is she still here?" I can hear the hopeful note in my voice, even though I attempted to make the question casual.
"She had a meeting within the city. I called her a car as you indicated I should. She did take some time to eat and thanked me for taking such good care of her before she left." He levels his gaze at me, a delighted look on his face. "She is quite lovely, sir."
