Bound in Darkness

by Nicole Edwards

  No sooner had he scored her vein than his body came alive. He held her delicate arm to his mouth, swept his thumb over her baby-soft skin as he drank from her. Kaj liked that she watched him, even if he wished she didn’t have to witness his body’s reaction to her. Despite his pain, his cock hardened beneath the blankets, the light press of the sheets against the sensitive head not nearly enough friction. More of a nuisance, really, a stimulant he didn’t need but couldn’t ignore.

  Kaj groaned but didn’t release her vein as he drew her life source into his body, prayed for the strength necessary to ignore the effects she unknowingly had on him.

  When his hips began to gyrate, her eyes shifted lower. Those amethyst orbs cut back to his face, widening as realization dawned. He tightened his grip on her arm, refusing to let go, because if he did, he was going to bring himself to orgasm, and that was not appropriate considering the circumstances.

  “Don’t stop,” she urged softly, her eyes locked on his face.

  Kaj wasn’t sure whether she was referring to him feeding or his hips thrusting beneath the blankets. He had to believe it was the former, because there was no way this beautiful creature was suggesting he take care of himself in that manner.

  When her breaths became heavier, the rapid rise of her chest drew his gaze downward. It was then he noticed her nipples were hard, pressing against the thin fabric of the silk covering her. She was affected by him as well, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.

  Acadia shifted closer, her wrist pressing more firmly to his mouth as her attention darted toward the lower half of him.

  Kaj didn’t mean to do it, but he released her arm, sliding his hand beneath the blankets. He told himself it was to hide the rigid erection tenting the sheet, but he knew better. The dull throb in his cock was more than he could bear. When his hand brushed the hypersensitive head, he groaned, sealing his lips more firmly to her wrist.

  “It’s okay,” she urged. “Keep going.”

  Again, he wasn’t sure which she was referring to, but it no longer mattered. He fisted his cock as he fed from her vein. He stroked his erection roughly, attempting to ease the beast. In the end, it was the fact she was watching, her eyes locked on the movement of his hand beneath the sheet. As he began to pant, he freed his fangs from her but didn’t release her arm. He sealed the punctures with his tongue, then pressed his lips to her skin as he drove himself toward release, stroking himself to completion.

  The orgasm came upon him with an intensity he didn’t expect. His back bowed and fire blazed through him, partially from the heat she generated within him but more so from the wounds he had yet to recover from. The combination of pleasure and pain was what triggered his release. His hips punched upward, driving his cock into his fist once, twice…

  “Fuck…”

  Kaj was breathing heavily as he fought the darkness that threatened to take him under, the pain more intense than he expected.

  “It’s okay.” Her fingers swept over his forehead, brushing his hair back. “Sleep now.”

  Though he wanted to clean himself, Kaj couldn’t muster the energy to do anything more. So he allowed his eyelids to lower, her beautiful face the last thing he saw before he gave in to the darkness.

  Chapter Four

  Just call him Mirakel Glutton for Punishment. No last name, of course. He hadn’t been born into royalty; therefore, he was merely known by a first name … and now his newest trait. Sounded better than Mirakel the Idiot, anyway.

  He was certainly living up to it in a profound manner.

  Proof was in the fact he continued to seek out Briony rather than find another female to feed from. It would’ve made more sense to find one of his own kind. A quick trip into town would be all that was necessary for him to locate a sufficient blood source to quench the hunger that had intensified over the past couple of days. He’d purposely put it off for as long as he could but refused to let it go too far. Nearly dying had been more than enough to remind him that biology wasn’t something he could reject simply because he wanted to.

  Now, as he strolled down the second-floor hallway of Angel Central, it took effort to put one foot in front of the other and at the same time to keep his legs from taking up a sprint. No doubt he was conflicted when it came to the particular Fae he was going to see. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her. Made no damn sense whatsoever.

  He paused at the door, lifted his hand to knock—

  “Come in,” the female called from the other side of the door.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Mirakel turned the knob and stepped into the second-floor laundry suite. The place could’ve been a bedroom, as luxurious as it was. Twenty-five-by-twenty, creamy-taupe walls, LEDs recessed overhead, three washers and three dryers (also taupe) ran the length of one wall, and the opposite wall had dark brown shelving used to store blankets, sheets, towels, and God only knew what else. A couple of tables for folding and sorting stood at the far end of the room, and down the center of the space was a cushioned bench, you know, in case you got tired doing laundry.

  Turned out, it was the perfect place when seeking a bit of privacy without having to deal with the intimacy of one of their bedchambers. Mirakel had learned his lesson, thank you very much. Having witnessed the female orgasm while she was feeding from him had been more than his feeble brain could handle. Hell, he’d dreamt about that very incident every night since, even saw it clearly when he closed his eyes.

  Hence the reason he’d suggested this place. It was his way of ensuring they didn’t get in over their heads. Of course, all these flat surfaces were as much a temptation as a bed, but Mirakel was choosing to pretend otherwise.

  “M’lord.” It was a pleasant greeting, one made without eye contact.

  Rather than say her name, Mirakel grunted, proving his manners were lacking.

  He closed the door and flipped the lock, ensuring no one would enter until he was ready for them to. If all went well, he’d be out of there in thirty minutes tops.

  Exhaling heavily, he took a seat near Briony, but far enough to ensure there wasn’t any unnecessary touching. As it was, he could smell her—a soft, sweet scent that went right to his head. Strawberries, he thought. She smelled like strawberries.

  Fucking hell.

  He probably should’ve started with some pleasantries. Hey, how are you? or How’ve you been since I last saw you? or maybe You’re looking pretty today.

  He said none of those things because his tongue got all twisted up when he was around her. Mirakel had no idea what he was drawn to, either. She was lovely, of course. More so than any female he’d ever seen, but he’d never been the sort to gauge his conquests by the exterior dressing. It was what was inside that mattered.

  Then again, Briony was equally lovely on the inside.

  Fuuuuck.

  Without thinking, he shot to his feet and marched past her, beyond the last washing machine.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” he grumbled, eyes locked on his boots to ensure he didn’t look directly at her.

  “I understand.”

  “Trust me, you don’t.”

  “Is there something I can do to make this easier for you?” she offered, her voice so kind it made his heart pinch.

  “Find me someone else,” he muttered.

  “Oh.”

  Yep, that was actually hurt he heard in her voice. And now he had offended her.

  “I … uh… That can certainly be arranged, m’lord.”

  Unable to help himself, he did lift his eyes to her. Today she was wearing a pale pink gown made of silk that clung to all of her delectable curves and pooled at her feet. While some of the Fae, mainly the males, dressed in modern trends, Mirakel had noticed a few of the females still opted for clothing that seemed better suited for a different time period. These gowns Briony preferred were not of this century, he didn’t think, and probably not the last, either. And while they weren’t short and skimpy, they revealed every beautiful curve of
her body as though she was wearing absolutely nothing at all.

  “Don’t go,” he blurted when she got to her feet, hands clasped in front of her.

  “If you don’t want me, m’lord, I understand.”

  Mirakel planted his hands on his hips and tilted his head toward the ceiling. “Trust me, it’s not that I don’t want you.”

  The fact that he did was the real issue. Mirakel wasn’t familiar with intimacy when it came to feeding. He’d never felt it before. Then again, he’d spent the majority of his life taking blood from cosrobols. Blood whores tended to be in great quantity in the larger clans. As a member of the Zenith, he’d had access to all he needed. When he’d been forced from the Seattle camp after Kardobahn’s death, Mirakel had learned to take when opportunities arose, which generally involved a sexual encounter with a female vampire. But one-night stands equated to mutual pleasure, not intimacy.

  Not necessarily ideal, but oddly, those had seemed far simpler than this. For some reason, he felt this strange connection to Briony, as though what he was taking from her was sacred.

  “I apologize if I make you uncomfortable,” she said softly, drawing his attention back to her.

  “Let’s just get this over with.” Good to see he was still lacking with the manners. Great.

  Briony took her seat on the bench once more, tugging the sleeve of her gown up to her elbow.

  On unsteady legs, he circumvented the bench, coming around to the other side. Once more, he planted his ass on the cushion and did his best to breathe through his mouth. Her scent was too much for him.

  “When’s the last time you fed?” he asked, stopping himself before reaching for her.

  “The last time I saw you.”

  Son of a bitch. He was not supposed to be happy about that. It shouldn’t have made his dick hard to know he was the last to provide her sustenance, yet the damn thing hopped to attention like someone had given it physical attention.

  “Then you’ll feed from me first,” he stated firmly.

  It took a bit of rearranging down south, but Mirakel managed to throw one leg over the other side of the bench so he was straddling it, facing her. He then took off his T-shirt and briefly wondered if it would be rude to keep the damn thing over his face.

  Of course it would, you dumb ass.

  Yeah, yeah, fucking yeah.

  He discarded the cotton, balled it up, and tucked it between his thighs, hoping to keep her from seeing the steel rod gaining momentum in his jeans.

  “I know of another way we can both feed at the same time,” Briony said, her beautiful purple eyes trailing over his face.

  Bad idea.

  No matter what it was, Mirakel knew it would be a bad idea.

  “Tell me,” he said, dropping his eyes to the burgundy leather between them.

  “It would be easier if I show you.”

  Fucking fantastic.

  Mirakel nodded, then held his breath when Briony turned so that she was facing away from him, her legs hanging over the end of the bench. It was almost the same position they’d been in the first time he’d fed from her, back when he’d had her perched on his thighs, his arms banded around her. He had orgasmed that time, unable to hold himself back.

  “You should move in behind me,” Briony suggested.

  No, he shouldn’t.

  Nope.

  Nuh-uh.

  He fucking moved behind her, the curve of her lovely ass pressed between his splayed thighs, that damn T-shirt doing not a fucking thing to stop his cock from thinking this was an intimate meet and greet.

  Oh, but look at that. It got worse.

  Briony leaned back against him, her back to his chest. To make it more comfortable for her, Mirakel had to shift closer again. Then move the fucking T-shirt.

  Oh, yeah, he was going to Hell for this, no doubt about it.

  He moaned softly when Briony drew her hair around to one side, revealing the smooth alabaster skin of her neck, that delectable scent of hers drifting right up into his sinuses.

  She tilted her head to the side, providing him perfect access.

  “How does this take care of you?” he asked, though he was surprised the words made any damn sense.

  “When you’re feeding from me, I simply need to link my fingers with yours.”

  Of course she did. Because that wouldn’t be intimate at all.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Figuring this could all be over in minutes if he would simply vampire up, Mirakel leaned forward, then had to brush aside a few stray strands of her hair, which did not fucking help. Taking a deep breath, he thrust his arms forward so that they were … oh, yeah, on her thighs.

  Better and fucking better.

  Closing his eyes, Mirakel leaned in and pierced her neck, no longer able to handle it. If he didn’t hurry up, he was going to strip them both and sink inside her. More than just his fangs.

  He did his best to focus on the blood he pulled into his mouth. Suck, swallow, suck, swallow.

  Easy-peasy.

  Ah, fuck.

  Briony clearly wasn’t aware of the war brewing in his fucking body, because she took his hands, turned them over on her thighs, then slid her much smaller fingers between his. Her touch was as light as a feather, as soft as velvet. When she tightened her grip, he did as well, sealing their palms together.

  He braced himself and good thing, too. When Briony began siphoning his energy, his entire body jerked hard. It was all he could do to keep his mouth sealed to her neck.

  Mirakel would later realize this was the absolute worst idea anyone would ever have.

  He would also realize that he’d been wrong about the first few times he’d fed from the female. He’d thought those had altered him in unimaginable ways. Not like this, they hadn’t.

  It was in that moment, when Briony was sitting in front of him, his fangs buried in her neck, their fingers clasped tightly as she drew energy from his being, that the whole of his world shifted on its axis.

  Because it was in that moment that Mirakel’s mind, body, and soul bonded with the female. A cataclysmic sexual imprinting also known as mielix zan in vampire terminology.

  Which, in the case of vampires, only happened once in their lifetime.

  And could not be undone.

  Which meant…

  Yeah, he so did not want to think about that right now.

  While Mirakel was fighting his battles just down the hall, Bijou was dealing with her own.

  As she peeked out her bedroom door, she prayed Oliver was not moving about. She couldn’t sense him nearby, so she hoped that meant he was in the war room working. He spent a good amount of time down there, even during daylight hours when the rest of the fiestreigh were catching z’s. She knew because she was constantly aware of where he was. It was the only way to avoid running into him, something she’d gotten relatively good at lately.

  Bijou glanced left, right, left again.

  She let out a relieved sigh when she saw her father stepping out of Acadia’s room just two doors down from her own.

  “I thought I heard you earlier,” Bijou called out, pretending she was out for an early-morning stroll, casually closing her door behind her.

  Based on the look on his face, he had just fed. And the sight of his wet hair told her he’d also showered. She hoped that meant he was in a good mood, because there was something she wanted to talk to him about. Something important. And she could no longer put it off.

  “I was coming to find you,” he said, his green eyes brighter than usual. “Wanted to talk to you about … the … um … the training facility.”

  Training facility? Her? Really? Then why did she get the feeling he was avoiding a specific topic?

  She peered up at him. “What about it? I didn’t think it was completed yet.”

  “It’s not. According to Obsidian, it’s well underway and moving quickly. I’ve yet to see it, though.”

  “And you wanted what? For me to pitch in?” She chuckled. “Thro
w up a few walls? Slap on some paint?”

  Her father’s smile was blinding. “No, sweet female. Not with the building of it. But I was thinking perhaps you’d be interested in training the new recruits.”

  How in Heaven’s name did he think she was qualified to train fighters?

  “Weapons,” he said, obviously reading her mind. “Namely firearms. You’re quite good with a gun. Thought perhaps you could share some of that knowledge, teach safety as well as accuracy.”

  Fine, she would accept that because it was the truth. She’d learned to shoot at an early age, one of her mother’s friends having run a human gun range near their house. Bijou had spent quite a bit of time in those lanes, trying out various weapons, learning their abilities as well as her own. It was one of the few hobbies she had, probably the only one she still enjoyed.

  Needless to say, her father’s suggestion didn’t sound like a terrible idea. In fact, she’d been hoping to find something to spend her spare time on. She had far too much of it as it was.

  “You don’t have to answer right now,” Kaj said, nodding toward the stairs. “Now what did you want to talk to me about?”

  She smiled, then tucked her arm in his and continued down the hall toward the back stairs. “I was curious as to how you’re settling in at the Lair. I heard Blāz got the shutter problem fixed and they got some furniture moved over.”

  “True and true. It’s slow going, but we’re getting there. Hoping to get all the security set up soon.” He peered down at her. “Why?”

  Okay. Go time. Taking a deep breath, Bijou blurted out her request.

  “I was wondering … ifitwouldbepossibleformetomoveinoverthere.” She exhaled sharply. There. She did it.

  “What was that?”

  Of course he would make her repeat it. “Move in. Me. Over there. I was … just, you know, wondering.”