I want hard. Shallow. Sex and sex only, because if we kiss like this then it’s a lie I’m buying into. I want him, desperately. My body throbs for him, my pussy drips and heats, a hollow ache between my thighs only he can fill.
I want him.
But it doesn’t mean I like him.
I want him to suffer for what he did to me, his lifeblood in me, singing in my veins and giving me the strength of him.
I want Lucian but I hate him, too.
Sosoftis something I reject.
I pivot the kiss, pressing into him, turning the kiss into altars in the rain, thunder threatening to rip open the heavens.
Lucian moans, his erection pressing into me. What I want is to rub up on it. No, what I want is to climb on him and fuck myself stupid. I want to suck him off. I want him to tie me down and do whatever he wants with me.
I bite his lip. Hard. The heat of blood, salty, darkly sweet, touches my tongue, and he growls, shoving me away.
“You don’t get my blood anymore, Monty. You’ve had enough. And I’m late.”
With that, the fucker leaves, elevator dinging as it descends. The wall slides back, hiding it once more.
But…now I know it’s there.
Blood’s still in my mouth, a few drops, a lick, but it swirls like a ferocious gale through me, and I lunge forward for the elevator…where I know it is. But I stop myself.
Make myself breathe.
If I’m to survive, then I need to control the blood and not the other way around. Do I still want to bathe in pools of blood?
Yes.
But right now, that’s fantasy.
So I take a breath again, turn from the elevator, and go searching for the kitchen.
It’s sleek, modern, untouched it seems by food. Which makes my mouth twist into a semblance of a smile.
Of course there isn’t food per se. He’s a vampire. He doesn’t need to eat food. There’s a fruit bowl filled with protein bars, and when I open the giant fridge that’s integrated into the cabinetry, my breath catches.
Blood. Five pouches. Dated. And I want one. One? I want themall.
I start to reach out, but snatch my hand away, and instead close the door and grab a few of the protein bars, shoving them in my pocket.
Next, I spend some time exploring. The space is the entire top floor, and I think it covers the whole block VMR sits on.
Since the sun pours in but doesn’t touch me at all, no heat, nothing, I’m guessing the windows are specially designed, but I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the lore to do with the sun and I’m no sun freak, either. Who would be in a place like Tenebris? Already I can see dark clouds gathering in the distance.
There are two enclosed decks, one with a dipping pool. There’s a gym, a locked room, and two other living areas, both cozy, one with a big TV.
He has a library full of old and new books.
There are about six bathrooms, though I’m not sure the seal’s been broken on any toilet or toilet tissue roll.
I move along. He has four guest rooms, and his main suite with a king-size bed. Though it has the walls of glass, it also has black-out blinds. It’s done in whites and grays, and out of all the rooms I’ve explored, this one actually feels lived in.
I trail a hand over the pale gray of the sofa, body throbbing as I keep looking at the bed.
“I can’t be in here,” I mutter. I need to get the fuck out of his room. It’s like being surrounded by Lucian, the man who turned me, killed his old lover, and probably did something horrific to my friend.
