His eyes were unreadable, but the hard, insistent arousal that was fighting to break free of his pants wasn’t. She was nervous. She had no idea if he intended to fuck her, feed her, or just plain humiliate her, but as he held her body against his arousal, he dropped his head to the side, exposing his carotid artery. As her mouth moved to his neck, his harsh eyes held hers for as long as they could before she passed beyond his periphery, and her mouth found the light arterial pulse. She bit, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the pain or the pleasure or both. She’d experienced his mouth on her in this very same way when he’d sired her, and it was far more pleasurable than she cared to admit.
She drank, trying to concentrate on what her mouth was doing and not on the arousal held snuggly between their bodies. He was large and hard, and though his demeanor and harsh glare didn’t convey any want for her, his erection made it clear his body did. When she was finished and she’d released her mouth from his neck, she pulled back, and he watched her with those same intense and serious eyes. She watched his mouth, avoiding his piercing gaze. His lips were beautiful, and she was momentarily struck by a memory of his lips on hers. His mouth had kissed her tenderly as though he cared for her, and it was so very different from his demeanor right now. It was a real memory—she no longer questioned that any of them were, but she still struggled to reconcile the sweetness of that memory with the harsh and cold being that she was with now. But that was her doing, and she knew it.
She was tired of torturing them. She wanted to trust him and feel all the things she must have felt for him in the past. It was emotionally exhausting holding him at arm’s length and enduring the torment she was completely responsible for. He was still watching her with his hands on her hips, and as she stood and backed away from his body, she thanked him before turning away, but she didn’t make it far until she stopped, and mustering the last of her humble submissiveness, she spoke. “Please don’t give me to anyone else. I don’t want that.” His brow flinched for half a second as he held her eyes, but he said nothing.
She finally turned away and left for the bedroom. She could feel his gaze following her.
The following days passed in much the same way, He avoided her, and she avoided him as well. But on occasion, she caught him watching her. His eyes had softened just a little, and she no longer felt certain she’d driven him to absolutely hate her; then again, she wasn’t at all certain he didn’t hate her either. He often looked at her curiously, and she tried to keep her confusion and unrest from displaying itself as anger and cruelty.
When she would catch his eyes on her, her heart rate would instantly speed up, and she would force her eyes to hold his. It was difficult. His expression may have softened some, but he was so damn intimidating. He didn’t trust her—ironic as that was. He was waiting for her to lash out at him again, and he had no idea how much she didn’t want that. It wasn’t her. She had just reacted poorly to her new circumstances. But as much as she owed him an apology, she couldn’t muster it. Not yet.
The next time she needed to feed, she approached him cautiously. He watched her as she crossed the room. She’d just gotten back from her daily swim and was wearing only her bikini and robe. As she watched his cautious expression, she was reminded of just how much she didn’t want him to give her away. Maybe she did trust him. He was the only one she wanted to be responsible for her, and she was the one who had jeopardized it.
He looked at her—held her eyes impassively but perhaps with a bit of distrust. And when she told him she was hungry, he watched her many seconds longer before responding. “Come with me.” He stood and held his hand out to her. But he didn’t take her hand. Instead, he studied here, waiting for her to take that step, and she did. She reached out with a shaky hand and bit her lip.
He led her to the bedroom, and as they entered, he undressed. She watched, breathing shallow breaths as he removed his pants, underwear, and shirt, and climbed onto the bed naked. He was stunning and aroused. His cock was large and intimidating, but her body was flushing and trilling with the intimacy. She’d seen his nakedness before. She knew that. And she’d wanted it. She trusted that as well. He was beautiful.
Ember dropped her robe on the floor as she exhaled a terrified sigh. She was wearing only her bikini, and as she untied the back with a shaky hand, he watched. When she untied the neck, his lips parted, and his eyes fluttered. Another small flash of memory hit her at the sight and the deep inhale of breath that followed. She’d seen this response before, and it had incited intense arousal in her body as she watched it.
She reached to her hip, but he stopped her. “It’s okay.” His voice was quiet. “You better leave those on.”
She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside his body. She was nervous, but her body was warming with a heat that seemed attached to him and radiated out from her core straight to her womb. He was breathing deeply through his nose, and he trailed his gaze down to her exposed breasts. He was studying her body, and his jaw was tense as he breathed deeply. She sat back on her heels, letting him look at her body though her heart was pounding in nervousness. She waited for him to offer her his wrist. But instead of his wrist, he took her hand. “Straddle me.” And he pulled her gently by the hand up to her knees. She did as he asked, looking down at his arousal that was high on his abdomen. She couldn’t deny she wanted to touch it, feel the length and breadth of him in her hand, but she just looked.
His hands moved to her hips, pulling her body down snug against his groin. Only the thin fabric, still damp from the pool, separated their bodies, and his arousal was high between them. When he sat up to her body, their faces were so close, and it sent a shiver through her body. He tilted his head and ran the pad of his thumb down his carotid artery. “Go ahead.”
She paused. She was nervous. It was one thing when he’d had her in this position in the living room a few days before, but on the bed, it just felt intimate, intensely sexual as though he might fuck her at any moment, and quite frankly, that she might let him. Her body was betraying her inner bitch that had played such a prevalent part of her after-death life, and part of her desperately wanted him to see just how human she still was. He scared her, even if she was intoxicated by him. He pulled back and took in her eyes, and seeing her nervousness, he reassured her and she nodded. Tilting his head once more, she leaned her mouth to his neck, and he again watched her eyes as long as he could.
She didn’t believe in the pit of her soul that she had any reason to distrust him. And if she couldn’t trust her own feeling on the matter in this moment, she could certainly trust the human she was before she died. She had trusted him, and while the memories were hidden, lurking, and wading below the surface of her mind, the knowledge she trusted him in life was not … nor was the arousal he gave her.
She sucked and pulled and tasted and satiated herself with him, and when she’d taken her need, her head sank to his shoulder. He held her, but didn’t push her for more. Her body wanted to be pushed, but her nervousness needed his patience, and he seemed to know that and respect it.