My heart boomed to my throat and I fought the urge to step back. I didn’t respond as I waited for him to go on.
A strange torment twisted in his irises.
“That I haven’t tried to scare you away? I have tried. I went to Portland. I wasn’t coming back and then you just turned up.” He threw up a hand, and paused, seemingly trying to work out what to say. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I cannot seem to stay away from you.” He thrust his hand roughly through his hair.“I don’t know what it is about you. But you are unlike anyone I have ever met before. I find myself . . .” he paused again, and dropped his eyes. He shook his head slowly as if trying to shake cobwebs of disbelief away. His tone was soft when he spoke. “I care for you, Amelia.”
His answer flipped a light on in my heart, as if someone had reached in and turned on a power switch. So cliché, I know. And yet there it was, the light on, swelling in my chest, until I thought it might radiate out of me.
He took a quick step in. His hand cupped the side of my face. His thumb caressed my cheek, sending pleasant shivers over my entire body.
He didn’t want to be with me because I’m a witch. But he couldn’t stay away. I threw him a lifeline.
“I get it. I’m a witch,” I said weakly, “I’m not good inside and you hate witches.”
He nodded like he knew the evil in my body. “I despise witches. I do. I should resist you. Our kind hate each other,” he said in a voice that was tender and yet ravaged at the same time. His fingers trailed over the side of my head, sweeping my hair back. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and purr. “You’re all I think about, I should resist you.”
We stared at each other, barely breathing. A vampire and a witch. Two natural enemies. The lion and the wolf. Two creatures who should not be together. This was the point when a decision had to be made. We walk away or we don’t . . .
His eyes smoldered, drawing me to him. I could feel it. An irresistible, overwhelming flood of desire, wrapping around me like a warm ocean. There was no war within me. No battle I needed to fight. I wanted to drown in the current.
Nothing mattered, to me the history was a few lines on a page. He was my present and I loved him.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I whispered. My hand trembled as I reached up and smoothed his hair. “I don’t care what you are, and I might have something in my blood, but I’m still me. The awkward girl who says the wrong thing. The girl who could never, ever hurt you. And I know you won’t hurt me.”
His eyes softened and in that moment he looked vulnerable. This masculine man, who oozed danger and power, looked vulnerable. And tormented.
I shifted my fingers, stroking the back of his head. “I don’t want you to stay away,” I breathed. “I want you to fuck me.”
He closed his eyes and shivered all over.
I pulled his lips toward mine and kissed him. He erupted. His body pressed me against the wall. His hands wrapped around the small of my back. His tongue danced against mine. He groaned as he consumed my mouth, kissing me so deeply. I didn’t think anyone could ever kiss me that way.
My pulse raced. A burst of wetness nestled between my thighs.
His kiss softened. He pulled back, his finger swept gently over my jaw, across my wet lips, as if savoring every part of me, sending tingles through my entire body. His nose nuzzled into the side of my neck. “It’s just sex, it’s all this can be,” he murmured.
I swallowed. I wanted more, so much more, but if sex was all he could offer, then I’d take it. It sounded desperate, it probably was. But there was a small voice in the back of my head, playing like a megaphone, hoping, begging, it would become more.
“Less talking, vampire, and a little more action. If it pleases you?” I said—asked—begged.
His lips quirked up. “Oh, it does.” I let out a breath of relief. Then the smile fell and he was serious again. “There’s something you need to know . . .”
“Shhh.” My lips sought his cutting off his words. I dragged my fingernails down his back, pulling him against me.
His hands wrapped around my ass, squeezing. His lips never left mine as his tongue explored my mouth.
I yanked urgently at his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head and casting it to the floor. In not even a heartbeat, in one fluid motion, he had mine off and tossed aside.
His lips feathered across my jaw to my neck. He kissed and nibbled gently on my skin.
A sigh escaped my lips and I quivered in anticipation.
His lips moved down until they found my hard, bra-less nipple. His tongue circled it slowly, teasing. I felt my breasts tighten and throb with want.
A thousand volts shot through my body. I let out a moan of pleasure, every fibre of my being wanted him. I reached roughly for his jeans, undid the button, pulled at the zip; he yanked them and his black trunks down and stepped out of them. His penis was large and erect. So large I wasn’t entirely sure how I was meant to fit it in.
I helped him whip down my jeans, kicking them off the bottom of my feet.
He stepped back, his eyes swept over every crevice as if he was drinking in all of me.
