by J. M. Davies
Weeks went by and he couldn’t stop tracking her. It became an obsession that even having sex didn’t alleviate. Images of the woodland nymph haunted him. When he caught her attempting to fight with a bicho-papão, the monster wrapped his long skeletal hands around her throat so tight, ready to rip her heart out with its savage teeth, leaving him with no choice but to act. Normally, these creatures hunted farther north; she couldn’t possibly know the strength of the beast she fought. For once in his immortal life, he experienced fear. A fear for her life. She wasn’t immortal. Roman intervened at the last moment when her death would be certain otherwise. He slaughtered the beast. But the cause of the witch’s involvement—the child—lay beyond help.
Now—his witch needed him again. She twisted away, arching off the bed, moaning. It took a willpower of titanium not to reach out and give her a real reason to moan. Her tantalizing voice drove him insane. Roman left the bed and searched around the room. If he knew his witch like he thought he did, somewhere she would have tucked away a bottle of alcohol. She liked vodka. He trailed—or should he say stalked—her once to a bar in Boston, and watched as she drank her friend under the table. He could do with the hard liquor right now to dampen his ardor. Searching her closet, he lifted her shoes and checked boxes. Moving to her dresser, he opened the drawers to find an array of silky underwear in a riot of colors next to a glass bottle.
Lifting out a blood-red thong, he groaned and replaced it to grab the alcohol. He pulled out a glass from the dresser and poured a generous measure, taking a sip of the strong liquid. Once again, as he studied the bed, the witch changed position, and now she lay flat on her back. She spread her legs and snaked her hand down to cup her sex. Roman watched, paralyzed. Is she doing this on purpose? He couldn’t help but study her as if in a stupor and sipped more of the vodka. Moans escaped her beautiful plump lips, and he longed to crush them. Fuck, she’s hot. His rock-solid erection tented his pants; he stood like a voyeur, watching as she slipped her fingers inside her wet folds. She wriggled and bucked, enjoying the sensation that she created. What a beautiful sight.
“Yes, yes, that’s so good. Please—”
He placed the glass on the dresser, drawn to her by the intensity and desperation in her sweet voice. She was dreaming. And briefly, he wondered whether he figured in those dreams at all. Unable to resist, he leaned over and kissed her lips, watching her reaction. Isabella’s eyes remained closed and when he felt her pulse, it raced under his touch.
“Please—I need more. I need you.”
She must be delirious, and he backed away, but her hand reached out and clutched him.
Unwilling to move, he kissed her again.
“Roman, I’m begging you, I need you.”
Shock rippled through him. Isabella may be only dreaming, but she dreamed of him. The last time he sampled the witch, he declared he would not touch her until she begged him, and here she was, doing just that. Despite protesting any interest in him, her body didn’t seem to get the message. Until she worked out what she felt for him, he wouldn’t play games. Coming to him, having sex, must be her decision, because from that moment on, there would be no turning back. There would be no Jake.
Right then, he could have stripped his clothes off and made love to her, fever or not. He wouldn’t regret it. It was probably long overdue, but Isabella would never forgive him. He would never cross that line—ever. He dipped his head and covered her lips, the kiss he pressed over her lips a gentle one, before he breathed into her mouth. A lover’s kiss, his people called it, a power used to remove fears and render the victim asleep, usually while the vampire drank and fucked them, but in this case, to calm her.
Isabella settled and he lifted his head, moving lower to drop soft kisses down her throat, and in the valley between her breasts. Looking sideways at her pulse as it throbbed, he resisted the temptation to drink despite his desperate thirst. Knowing the fever raged through her body, there was only one more thing he could do to make her better, and he hoped she wouldn’t be too angry. Knowing Isabella, that would be too much to hope for. He cut a long line across his wrist with his sharp blade. Fresh crimson blood flowed to the surface. Wrapping his arm around Isabella’s shoulders, he gathered her close and pressed his wrist to her lips.
“Drink, my love, drink. Tomorrow you will feel much better.”
She murmured and her soft lips nudged his skin, until she flicked her tongue out and swiped the blood flowing from his wrist. As soon as she tasted it, she moaned and grabbed his wrist with her hand, sucking deeply.
His eyes rolled back into his head. The pleasure and pain of sharing blood with her only heightened his arousal, but he needed to remain strong and make sure she didn’t drink too much. Satisfied she had taken enough, he removed his wrist and settled her into his side, wrapping his arms around her back to keep her close. He didn’t require sleep, and rarely did, but he wanted to hold her in his arms, listening to the steady beat of her heart.
Isabella was full of life and energy. Watching her as she smiled in her sleep, a pain where his beating heart should be caught him. Laying a kiss on her warm cheek, he swore he wouldn’t take that away from her. In the beginning, he demanded the marriage because he wanted her and later, as a matter of principle. At least, he told himself that. She had broken their rules, but now, even he didn’t believe it.
There were plenty of adequate females in his clan he could take as a mate, but she possessed qualities they lacked. Female vampires didn’t interest him; they were all the same—in awe of him and willing to do anything. Whereas Isabella took no nonsense. She spoke the truth. He was a monster, not some god or hero that his people made him out to be. If she joined him, she would lose not only her life, but perhaps, the chance to have children. She may become bitter and cold like him, or worse, a blood-crazed killer.
He stroked her luscious lips. No, he couldn’t put her through that, for his own selfish reasons. He should do as his friend Lucius suggested—walk away. Before the very pieces that made her shine disappeared. Once, he may have carried on regardless, without a conscience, but now, as he gazed at her fresh beauty, he didn’t think he could.
Roman knew the moment Isabella woke, as her heartbeat soared, but he waited a few seconds to see what her response would be. She was, after all, still entangled in his arms, and practically naked. She wriggled and he slipped his hand over her breast to comfort her.
“Roman, what have you done to me?”
“You were sick, my love, but I suspect you feel much better this morning.”
She stretched her hands over his naked chest, touching all the ridges and planes, slipping them lower down his abdomen until she fondled his cock.
Hm, yes, she is feeling better. He grabbed her hand. If she kept stroking, he wouldn’t be able to hold back and that wouldn’t be good at this point for either of them. His hunger called. And, at some point during the night, he had removed all his clothes, wanting to feel her warm skin against his. Now he was fully aroused, but he wasn’t alone in this. Right now, having sex dominated Isabella’s mind and he cursed for not extracting himself sooner. He had fallen asleep. What an idiot.
Isabella pressed her delicious, soft curves into his, the aftereffects of her drinking his blood still in her system, and she wet her lips, staring at him with her big green eyes. She slipped lower to nudge her sex against his erection that he longed to sink deep inside her.
“I need—you inside me.”
To hear those words, full of dripping want and need—how he had longed to hear them. But his blood filled her veins like a drug. Her scratchy, seductive voice made his shaft stiffen harder, and when she grabbed him, he couldn’t resist rolling over her. Roman pressed his larger frame into hers, kissing her lips and thrusting his tongue at the seam of her mouth until she opened for him. The tip of his shaft jerked right by her wet entrance and she grabbed his hair, tugging it. In another heartbeat, he could sink himself and fill her. Claim her as his forever. As she licked his neck,
he groaned. The tip of his dick probed her slick, wet folds. Heaven. His body thrummed with overpowering need and a fierce hunger.
She lay awake, panting and willing. Her wide green eyes showed a mix of emotions, but desire flared. He nudged her legs apart, and she tilted her hips closer.
Roman moved swiftly to kiss her breasts. She undulated under him, clinging to him, and he couldn’t last much longer. He sank his teeth into the soft rounded flesh and sucked her sweet blood, savoring the taste as it flowed over his tongue and inside his mouth. Isabella arched under him, pressing her body into his, and he held her arms tight as he drank, only taking enough to tide him over. He could hunt once through the portal, Lady Tenille promised.
As soon as he had his fill, he kissed her long and deep on the lips, giving her a lover’s kiss. Staring down at the teeth marks on her breast, he couldn’t help but smile at the passionate woman in his arms and licked the skin. He left the note that he had penned during the night on the bedside table. It simply relinquished his hold upon her. Breaking off their engagement. When she awoke, she would be free of him for good.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Isabella read the handwritten note several times over and knew the contents by heart. A couple of hours later, the shock was no less diminished than when she discovered it. Yesterday, after the attempt at dinner, she collapsed with the mad delirium her sister predicted, and the vamp had swooped in and taken care of her. Not only taken care of her, but made her better. A sick sensation gripped her belly as pieces of the night, and Roman, flashed before her. Her hand shook as she recalled his words from the letter. She should be happy. He had broken off their engagement. He promised it would not affect the treaty with her coven and the vampires. He offered no further reason or explanation. Clutching her chest, a fury screamed inside.
How dare he? He sucks my blood, makes me drink his, until I’m a quivering mess. Gives me the best orgasm I have ever experienced in my entire life and he walks away. What the hell?
Isabella picked up the empty glass vase from her dresser and threw it against the wall, letting it smash into a million tiny pieces. A kaleidoscope of emotions whirled through her. Roman pursued her endlessly for the past two years, and now walked away.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t cry. This opened the door to a real relationship with Jake. If he would even want one after yesterday. Did she want that? Her phone buzzed and she picked it out from her back pocket. “Hi, Ella. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I’m going to the cemetery to put some flowers on Josephine’s grave. I wondered if you would come with me.”
She didn’t like visiting the graves, but Isabella heard Ella’s anxious voice. The soul-shifter’s agitation filtered through easily. She was anything but fine.
“Marcus leaves tomorrow and I can’t stop worrying something will go wrong.”
Isabella grabbed her jacket and strode out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She needed a distraction and this would do. Checking inside her jacket for her blade, she descended the stairs. “Have you spoken to him at all since the dinner party?”
There was a lull in conversation, before a small cry from Nate came from the other end.
“No. He sent roses on Monday and orchids on Tuesday. A basket of fruit and chocolates, which I shouldn’t have eaten, but I did. These romantic gestures are not him at all. Marcus doesn’t do romance, not in this way, but I can’t speak to him, Isabella, not right now. It would be too easy to take him back. I miss him.”
Isabella understood. Ella loved Marcus, but his actions hurt. She could hear it in the strain of her voice. “Okay, the cemetery, but not unless we have security with us.”
Nate gave a gusty cry and she heard Ella talking to him. “I have it all arranged. Just come over.”
“On my way.”
Isabella replaced her phone in her back pocket and tapped down the main stairs as the front door clicked open and in walked Jake. She reached the bottom step as he stared up at her.
“Well, you look much better.” He stepped forward and tugged on a strand of her hair.
“Ow, that hurt.”
“Serves you right. Your vampire did that thing again right in front of me. It really doesn’t do anything for me, but some women like being swept off their feet. I debated about following, but I didn’t want to intrude.”
She frowned at his admission, but he pressed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her escape.
“He isn’t my vampire, Jake. I told you before.” The words trundled out, even though her heart raced as she thought about Roman looking after her last night. She shook her head to dispel the memories, and studied Jake. “He’s broken off our engagement. I don’t know why, but it’s over. I’m free—yay.”
The words sounded hollow and empty. She should be happy, but even Jake stood in shock.
“Wow. I expected more—much more. He’s a vampire. I expected him to want to fight me and drink my blood.” He smiled but she didn’t.
“Not the right sex for that, and he already fed.”
At that, he removed his hand and stepped back. “I see.”
Isabella didn’t need to tell him that and wondered why she did because she could see the cogs turning inside Jake’s brain. He wondered whether she had slept with the vampire.
“It’s finished with Roman, not that we were ever an item in the romantic sense…” Isabella stared away, lying.
“It’s okay—you don’t have to explain. I think you need to think about what’s going on inside your head, and I’m not going anywhere. Well, actually I am. I’m going with Drayton to the Veil. What I mean is, there’s time for us to figure out what’s going on, when I get back, but for now, this will have to do.” Reaching out, he cupped her chin and pressed his lips over hers.
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his back, feeling his muscles press in her chest. She gave the kiss her all, sinking all her emotions into letting go, and opened her mouth as he slipped his tongue inside. But Roman’s face appeared. The way his smoldering eyes locked tight with hers, unyielding, as if he would eat her alive as he brought her to the edge and tipped her over, giving her that mind-blowing orgasm. Shock rippled through her, and she untangled her arms from Jake, shoving him away to gasp for air.
“I’m sorry, Sparkles. What a jerk. You were sick last night. Are you all right?”
She stared at him, on the border of hysteria, and wished everything would be all right. But it wasn’t. Nodding, she stared at the forlorn man, grabbed hold of his jacket lapels and kissed him hard and fast. After a minute, she pulled back. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jake. Stay close to Marcus and Roman.”
He nodded. “You make sure you look after yourself, too, Sparkles, because I want a proper kiss when I get back.”
She gave a small smile. “I’m invincible, Jake, don’t you know that?”
With that, she walked out the front door and charged across the lawn toward Ella’s house. The kiss wasn’t bad, but she couldn’t blot out the memory of Roman.
****
Isabella stood next to Ella as she pushed her stroller over the gravel path winding its way through the misty cemetery. Nate was still asleep after the short car ride, and she gazed at the sleeping bundle wrapped up tight in a warm blanket. Dear God, she must be getting soft. She didn’t do babies.
“You can hold him when he wakes if you like, Isabella.” Ella stared at her with those tell-me-everything eyes.
“I seem to remember the last time you gave me Nate, you cornered me into a confession.”
“Well, I have to say—it proved easier than I thought. Holding Nate does have that effect. He is what makes me get up every day. He’s what this fight is all about. He makes you realize what’s important in life.”
“Wow, how profound—and you haven’t even sipped your coffee.”
“I brought some chocolate cake in the baby bag to share. What do you think?”
Isabella surveyed the quiet, ghostly cemetery. Hardly the place
to chat on a sunny day, surrounded by graves of the dead, but this morning, with the thin layer of snow on the ground and mist rising, she didn’t want to prolong their visit. “Let’s pay our respects to Josephine and eat the cake back at yours, by the fire. What’s with the cake? You don’t normally have a sweet tooth.”
She peered at Ella closer and caught the soul-shifter pressing her lips tight. Reading her friend was easier than Marcus and she caught her last thought before she shut them down. “Shit,” she said. “You’re pregnant.”
Ella stopped and grabbed her hand. “Don’t tell anyone—please.” She wiped away a tear.
Isabella wrapped her arm around her shoulder and hugged her. “By anyone, you mean Drayton?”
A black bird cawed from the trees behind her and she glanced in the direction of the noise. Several feet behind them walked their protection for this morning’s trip. Redirecting her focus on Ella, her friend nodded and she continued. “It’s not my place to say anything. Besides, I have enough shit swirling around in my own life.”
Ella carried on, pushing the buggy and studying her intermittently. Isabella spilled out her guts, as did Ella, chatting away as they made their way toward Josephine’s grave in the far corner. Each took it in turn to talk about their fears. Nate slept throughout. Isabella lifted the chocolate cake out from the baby’s bag and broke off pieces, sharing it between them, although she ate the most. Wiping away the chocolate from her mouth, she scrunched up the empty bag and tucked it away in her pocket.
“What are you going to do? You know—the kiss can be improved. You can work on it if you feel Jake’s technique isn’t quite right, but honestly, it isn’t just the action of the kiss. It’s how you feel about the person kissing you. When you have strong feelings for someone and they kiss you, everything else disappears. In that moment, when you’re exploring each other, tasting him, touching him, you’re so wrapped up, nothing else matters. There is nothing outside of the two of you. No one. Your heart is going wild, pumping so fast it’s going to explode, and your breathing is working overtime to cope with your speeding heart. And all you want is more.”
