The pillow’s satiny finish was cool against my cheek. I extended my arms overhead, pointed my toes beneath the linen sheets, and pressed my legs into the soft feather bed for a full body stretch.
This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.
Awareness doused my sleepy mind like a bucket of ice water, and my eyes snapped open. I pushed the comforter down, propped myself up onto my elbows, and brushed the hair out of my face. A wide sleeve slid down my arm. I fingered the white fabric crossing my heart. A robe, cinched at the waist, the weave of the cotton so fine it caressed my skin like silk.
The black of night enveloped the room, the only source of illumination the lights of distant buildings and the soft glow of streetlamps visible through a wall of windows. Until the flick of a match.
A flame sparked to life at the hands of a man who sat on a leather sofa facing the windows. He lifted it to light the stub of cigar he held between his teeth, and it highlighted the angular cut of his jaw.
Marco puffed until the cherry burned hot. He shook out the match, tossed it into the ashtray next to him, and rested his arm on the back of the couch. He stared out the window into the dark Boston night, and tendrils of smoke, backlit by the cigar’s muted glow, trailed toward the ceiling.
I was in Marco’s suite. Or was it a cage? Was I prey trapped by a deadly predator?
I’d fainted the night before. That I remembered. The transformation of his obsidian eyes into crimson fire had pushed me over the edge into darkness. But he’d caught me. Taken care of me. Undressed me, wrapped me in a robe, and tucked me into bed.
Was I making excuses? No. Marco would never hurt me. Of that, I was sure. Wasn’t I?
I swung my legs out from under the comforter and over the side of the bed, testing them on the cold slate floor. My cheeks burned at my near nakedness. The robe so thin it was almost transparent, so short it barely covered my ass. Curiosity restrained by fear, I took tentative steps toward the sofa, stopping at its end, and gathered my hair over my shoulder.
Marco still wore his tuxedo pants, but his coat and bowtie were gone along with his socks and shoes. He’d lost his button-down in favor of a sleeveless undershirt, and the glow of his cigar accentuated the bulges of his muscled arms. He took a long drag, eyes still fixed on the window.
I twisted my hair into a tail, needing something to fidget in place of my necklace, an anchor to help me muster the courage to finish what I’d started.
He glanced at me sidelong and tapped his cigar into the ashtray on the end table. “Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and rough.
“What time is it?”
He flipped his wrist to look at his watch, and the snake on his arm twitched with the flex of his muscles. “A little after three.”
My eyes dropped to my feet. I wiggled my toes into the shag of the area rug covering the space around the sofa.
“Your dress and shoes are in the closet. Siobhán put you to bed last night.”
I pressed my lips together, arresting a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
I could have left. Gone to the closet, gathered my things, and left. Instead, I rounded the corner of the sofa and sat, holding the bottom of my robe closed as I reclined into the sofa back.
He took another drag off his cigar, blew a smoke ring, and angled it to study the burning ember at its end. “What made you suspect?”
“Luca.” I picked at the ends of my hair. “I saw him feeding on his date outside the restroom before dinner.”
He chuffed out a breath and looked askance. “Fucking Luca,” he muttered under his breath.
“It wasn’t just Luca. I ran into his date in the restroom, and she asked me if I was…” I stumbled over the word she’d used. What had she called me?
He side-eyed me. “Asked if you were…”
“Your—your Source?”
He shook his head, annoyed, and brought the cigar to his lips.
He smoked. I watched.
After a time, he turned and studied me. “You could’ve taken a cab home. Locked your door. But you came up here. Why?”
My stomach flipped. I couldn’t answer with the truth, at least, not the entire truth. Yes, I’d wanted to know if the conclusions I’d drawn were reality. But what I didn’t want to admit was the darker reason I’d ventured to the penthouse.
I burned for Marco. Still. The danger of what he might be had done nothing to dissuade my body from aching for his touch. If anything, it had made it burn hotter. And after all the champagne, curiosity and excitement combined with lust to eclipse fear.
I cleared my throat and shrugged a shoulder. “I thought there was another explanation.”
He regarded the stub of his cigar with a smirk, took a puff, and set it in the ashtray. “I told you before.” He swiveled his torso to face me, drawing my attention to his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I tugged at my hair and focused on the cracks in the aged leather even as the interplay between danger and seduction drove my body wild.
He shifted his weight and bent a knee to rest his leg on the couch between us. His arm extended along the back of the sofa, and he drummed his blunt fingers against its wooden frame.
“Do you want to know what I think?” His voice dropped, its timbre a sinful taunt. “I think you came up here because you wanted me to fuck you. You want to know what it feels like to have me inside you, dominating you.”
My lips parted, my breath quickening. I squirmed under the intensity of his attention and the danger of his presence, desire throbbing between my legs.
He picked up a lock of my hair and ran it between his fingers. “And after last night—” The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes illuminated with specks of glowing crimson. “You want to know what it feels like to have me bite you.”
My breath hitched on a sharp intake, and I launched off the sofa. I aimed myself at the door, terrified he would catch me, but just as terrified he might let me escape.
His fingers closed around my biceps in a punishing grip. He spun me to face him, caught my shoulder, and pushed me until my back hit cold glass. I scrambled to break free, but he hauled my arms above my head and pinned me to the window by my wrists.
I struggled in vain to break free of his iron-clad grip, my frantic breath as loud as the blood rushing in my ears. He pressed his body flush against mine to still me, and the cold at my back heightened the sensation of his hard heat. He lowered his head, and I twisted my face away. Soft lips brushed the space below my ear, and his warm breath sent tingles down the length of my spine. He dipped his head lower, and I felt his smile against my shoulder.
Something sharp and pointed dragged along the length of my neck, from its base to where my pulse beat against the skin of my throat like a drum. Gooseflesh pebbled my arms, and desire surged between my legs. Until I realized the source of the delicious sensation. A fang.
I thrust my elbows forward and arched my shoulders off the glass in a desperate attempt at escape. I thrashed violently against the immovable cage of his body, my heart and breath racing. I squirmed my torso and lifted a knee, but he pressed his hips into mine forcing me flat against the window. The hard length of his erection jutted into my belly, and I froze, the unexpected torrent of desire shocking me into stillness.
The glow of Marco’s eyes drew my attention, and I lifted my gaze to stare at the blood demon in fascinated horror. His fangs were extended in a feral baring of teeth, their razor-sharp points reaching just past his bottom lip. His nostrils flared with exertion, and his eyes shone the same burning crimson I’d seen the night before.
The air between us was thick with the impending outcome of our sexual standoff. Danger and need fed off each other and drove me to a reckless peak of frenzied lust.
“Fuck me,” I ordered. “Now.”
His mouth crashed into mine, a violent thunderclap of passion, the softness of his lips a delicious contrast to the harshness of his kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth with animalistic ferocity demanding submission, and I met his hunger stroke for stroke.
My tongue slid across a fang, and he groaned, a deep rumble of pleasure that reverberated through his chest and made my nipples tingle. He released my hands and wrapped his thick fingers around my neck just below my chin, squeezing hard enough to let me know he was in control. I grabbed the back of his head and ran my nails through his hair and along his scalp, pressing him closer. He ground his erection into my belly, and my pussy turned slick, ravenous for his cock.
His hand slipped between us, and the sharp hiss of a zipper made my sex throb. His hips shifted, and the tuxedo pants fell to the floor.
He broke our kiss but didn’t pull back. His lips teased mine, light brushes and touches amid the warmth of our shared breath, driving my arousal to a peak.
He released my neck, wrapped his hands under my thighs, and lifted me off the floor. The robe slipped as he pushed me up the glass, falling open to reveal one of my breasts.
His eyes flared in the darkness. “Those fucking tits,” he growled and sucked my nipple into his mouth. He dragged it between his teeth, and I groaned at the harsh sensation, pressing my heels into his ass.
He shifted again, and the thick head of his cock glided through my wetness until he found my entrance. He slammed his full length into me in a single punishing thrust and ground the base into my clit. He stretched and filled me, and the sting of his size spiked my pleasure.
“Finally,” I breathed, and rested my arms on his shoulders.
His mouth hovered before mine in open invitation, and he circled his hips, grinding himself harder against my throbbing sex.
“Unh!” The low husky sound that escaped me matched the wild intensity of his inhuman eyes. He pulled out until the thick bulb of his head teased my entrance, then slammed back into me, tearing another low groan from my lungs.
He ran his tongue over my top lip and eased himself out before feeding my hungry folds with the full length of his cock. He repeated the sensual torture again and again, slowly picking up the pace until he was fucking me against the glass.
Each stroke and press of his hips brought me closer to release. I ground my swollen, needy clit into him, matching the beat of his rhythmic strokes, given over to the exhilarating blend of danger, pleasure, and pain.
He growled from deep within his chest, fucking me harder and faster as he destroyed my mouth with another savage kiss. The walls of my pussy clenched from unrelenting sensation, and my orgasm exploded into being to take ownership of my body.
My head fell back against the glass, and I moaned, throaty sounds wrenched from my core with each wave of pleasure Marco wrung from my body. My toes curled, and I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, every muscle clenching in response to the orgasm claiming me. My cries filled the room in debauched harmony with the wet slap of his hips between my legs and the guttural sounds of his impending release.
The tendons in his neck and the veins at his temples strained, and with a final punishing thrust, Marco surrendered. He grunted, and his powerful body stilled for a moment before he pushed his hips into mine. My walls tightened around his pulsing member, and his chest rumbled with each stream of cum he released into my body.
He relaxed, chest heaving, and rested his forehead against my collarbone. We held each other and breathed, slowly descending back to Earth from the heights of shared ecstasy.