I’ll wrap up my bones
And leave them
Out of this home
Out on the road
Two feet standing on a principle
Two hands longing for each others warmth
Cold smoke seeping out of colder throats
Darkness falling, leaves nowhere to go
It’s spiraling down
Biting words like a wolf howling
Hate is spitting out each others mouths
But we’re still acting like we’re lovers
Still with feet touching
Still with eyes meeting
Still our hands match
Still with hearts wanting
Two feet standing on a principle
Two hands digging in each others wounds
Cold smoke seeping out of colder throats
Darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move
It’s spiraling down
Biting words like a wolf howling
Hate is spitting out each others mouths
But we’re still acting like we’re lovers
I’m sitting on the sofa, my book tossed aside, watching the rain slide down the windows and the ocean and sky become more threatening by the minute. A thunderstorm is much more distracting than The Seven Pillars of Wisdom.
If only storm watching was working.
He’s in the shower, wet and naked, hot water streaming down his body and warming his skin.
More than anything I want to walk in there, strip, and press my naked body to his. To feel him under my hands and his skin against my mine. To feel his hands on me.
He’s back to not letting us touch and it’s driving me mad.
This yearning I have for him hollows my insides. It’s like a dreadful hunger in my bones, my veins, my blood, my skin.
And right now that ache is growing. There’s a pressure, low and deep inside me, spreading out and down between my legs. It’s almost painful, but I like it. I don’t want it to stop.
I squirm, crossing and uncrossing my legs, sliding my hand between them, needing friction.
A groan echoes from the bathroom. I freeze and strain to listen closer, which isn’t hard–he left the door open. The water is splashing against the stone floor and walls, but underneath that is a rhythm. Like something is causing the water to surge every few seconds. Splat, splat, splat.
Then I can’t think anymore. The bond has burst open, flooding me with his pleasure and washing me away with it. My body becomes a surging wave. Hips rising and falling over and over, my fingers pressed over my center, rolling back against the rocking at a furious pace. Then every fiber within me tightens, cries escape my throat, and I melt into nothingness.
I’ve barely composed myself when he walks towards me from across the room. He has a soft step, always appearing out of thin air. But I know he’s there and he knows I know, yet still he slinks and creeps like the big cats I’ve seen on tv. He stops a few feet behind me, staring, causing my neck to prickle. I slowly turn my head and lift my eyes to his, avoiding his gorgeous body and the way that crisp white towel is barely staying up on his lean hips.
He’s smiling, a half-smile. It’s wolf like, sharp at the edges, the tips of his pearly white fangs shining from between his curved lips. His eyes are hungry, watching me like prey. Mine drop away, my pulse quickening again. I want to be his prey in any way he wants me. My blood grows hot with it, so hot I wouldn’t be surprised if he smelled smoke. I know if I dared look again he would be licking those sharp fangs while he listens to it pump through the veins hidden just under my skin.
An aftershock of pleasure shivers through me, my eyes closing and my neck twisting and stretching.
The bond ripples with amusement, his soft laughter trailing behind him as he leaves the room heading downstairs.
I almost hate his little games. Almost.
That’s the fourth time he’s done that to me this week. Not once has he been anywhere near me. Twice he’s been locked in his room downstairs, once he was outside, and now the bathroom.
I should be furious, he’s abusing our bond, me. But I can’t bring myself to even be irritated. I haven’t tried to stop him, or asked him to. I don’t want him to. It’s the most thrilling, exquisite thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to feel. I fear I’m beginning to crave it. I sit around in a constant state of arousal and anticipation just waiting for him to do it again.
“How’s the reading going?” he murmurs in my ear, with that voice of his. The one that opens me as easy as any book. It’s like the black blanket on the bed, so soft and dark as it caresses my skin I want to wrap myself in it and never come out.
This time it’s so sudden it makes me jump out of my skin.
“Stop doing that!”
He just smirks at me, coming around the end of the couch and dropping his lean, god-like frame onto it.
The Fae don’t believe in gods, only themselves. We’re a lofty headed bunch. But how anyone could gaze at the sight before me and not see the work of the divine is beyond my comprehension.
As usual, he’s dressed in black jeans and a tank, both hugging his sculpted body. I never thought I would envy fabric, but I do. His skin still holds a pink flush from his shower, his tawny hair shining, catching the light from the fire, and there’s a sparkle in his crystal eyes tonight.
He looks so alive. Beautiful and bright as the sun. It hurts to look at him, it would hurt even more to look away.
We stare at each other, not saying word. Which has become our usual after one of his passionate games. There was an unspoken accord reached after the first. We leave our thoughts simply that, unspoken. I’m too naive about the dance between man and woman to know what to say, he wavers between smug gratification and worry.
He’s only let that slip through the bond a couple of times, so quickly squashed I almost missed them.
Experiencing him within the bond is like learning an intricate partnered dance. Pushing or pulling him never works, he balks or runs every time. His heart is like a wounded starving animal. Its need for comfort so powerful, just not powerful enough to overcome its fear.
I just wait to see where he’ll take me next. I let him lead without him knowing I am.
At least I try anyway.
Right now I’m losing. The longer he looks at me, the tighter my inside become. He is a force untamable, invading my every pore with his entire being. He’s my moon, my gravity. My blood rises like the tides, pulled by his every move. He draws me out of my myself so effortlessly. He could undo me with just his eyes.
He tries so hard to hide behind them, those blue, blue eyes, wanting me to think he’s made of cold, hard stone, but I can see so much more than he wants me to.
The glimpses of pain and flashes of vulnerability in them. The hurt and fear. The anguish I catch on his face in those rare moments of transparency fill me with a need to heal him so great I fear my heart will physically shatter in my chest.
But whenever I think I have the upper hand on him, whenever I get him to open those small fractions, he always manages to flip me over and onto my ass. I’m forever grasping and clawing, trying to climb over his walls.
His iron will is as tenacious as my own.
“So?” he asks.
“Are you enjoying Lawrence?” he questions again, flicking a long finger and his eyes towards my feet.
Oh. The book.
“To be honest, no. It’s rather boring. Frankenstein was much more enjoyable,” I mutter, getting up to take the book back to the shelf. And to put some space between us.
“Is it your favorite so far?” he asks, heading to the kitchen.
“I don’t know, maybe.” I turn away from him, waiting for the bed to settle back on the floor. He’s fixing himself dinner.
He kept his word, calling Trent for more. The drawers in the refrigerator are packed full of it now.
Who knew I would ever be so jealous of a bag of blood that I can’t bear to look at it?
“Well you like it better than Lawrence, who’s actually quite good really, so tell me why.”
I let out a harsh sigh and flop down on the bed. “Is this another one of your lessons? Can’t you just let me read? Why must we discuss them? I’m not a child you need to teach.”
“Cranky are we? Should I cook?” he asks.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Your sour mood says otherwise.”
“There are lots of other reasons to be sour, you know?” I grumble up at the ceiling.
The bed drops beside me and I shoot upright with a squeal.
And then he laughs at me. It’s a real one, from deep in his soul. “Scaring you is the highlight of my existence.”
It’s the middle of the night and storming, yet the sun is shining on me while the birds sing their favorite songs. I can feel the warmth soaking into my skin, through my chest and into my bones. Like a chill in reverse. He’s here, his thigh pressed against mine, closer than he’s been to me in what feels like forever. My heart’s in my throat, its beat and my breath fighting to flee my body.
I could care less that he’s laughing at me. I hurry and put a smile on my face for fear this moment will vanish just as the sun did behind the storm clouds earlier.
His beauty is almost painful. My fingers trace over his brow then around to his cheekbone. I want to pull him inside me, all of him.
“Did I break you?” he asks, still chuckling.
I don’t speak, not yet. Now that I have seen it, I never want him to be any other way. I just let us feel.
I want more. Want to soak him in, deeper than he already is. “Let me kiss you, just a small one. Pretend I’m nobody special, just ordinary,” I whisper, inching my lips closer to his.
He stares at me for the longest time. I start to become light-headed from holding my breath as I stare back, his eyes telling me more secrets than the bond. “You are everything but ordinary,” he whispers, his sinful mouth finally touching mine.
My every nerve soars and sparks with lust.
I want to fuck and be fucked. I want him to tear me apart, then do it all over again and again. I’m burning with it. I’m not going to wait anymore.
My greed takes over and I flood him with my need, letting him feel everything I am. Just as he’s done to me. It does exactly what I hoped.
He attacks, lips and tongue devouring my mouth while his hands rip my shirt and bra away. Then I’m on his lap, tearing away his own shirt. He kisses up my neck while grasping my breasts in his hands, kneading them, his callused palms rubbing over my hardened nipples.
Shocks of pleasure race through me at the new sensation, pushing my need even higher.
I run my hands over every inch of his cool skin I can reach, my head thrown back to give his mouth easy access. My hips begin to move on their own, rocking against him, grinding my aching core over his rock hard cock.
My name leaves his lips like a prayer, I can only whimper in return before he steals my breath again sealing his mouth over mine.
I keep us going, terrified to slow even a tiny bit. I kiss his lips, fangs, jaw, neck. My hands still exploring his beautiful body, my hips never slowing.
I push more lust at him, ignoring his resistance.
“Stop!” he snarls, picking me up off his lap and throwing me over onto the bed. Before I can right myself he’s at the windows staring out at the rain.
Son of a bitch!
Not again! He is not fucking doing this to me again! I know he wants me. Does he really think I don’t know what I was just grinding on? The bond doesn’t lie either. I feel everything from him. He wants me. Really fucking bad.
I’m sick and fucking tired of this fucking confusion. He feels one thing, but does the exact opposite. I’m seriously beginning to think he wants to push me completely over the edge.
“Why the fuck do you keep doing this?” I snap, jerking my shirt over my head.
“Drop it, Sookie. I’m not in the mood.”
“Not in the mood?” I ask, incredulously.
I’ll show him not in the mood.
I stomp across the room and squeeze myself between him and the glass. I shove against him with all the strength I have. He doesn’t move an inch, only staring down at me with that damn eyebrow raised.
He’d be a pile of ash if it wouldn’t kill me too.
He takes one step back, allowing me enough room to breathe. He must have finally picked up on my anger.
“Tell me why!” I demand.
I shove him again then pound on his chest, screeching, “Tell. Me. Why!”
He grabs my wrists, holding me still, his grip surprisingly gentle. His snarling face an inch from mine isn’t. “I told you before. You’re not ready. I will not take you until you are.”
I rip my arms from his hold. “Who the hell are you to tell me if I’m ready or not? I am ready.” I slide my hand into my panties and run my fingers through my folds, gathering the wetness his touch and kisses left behind. He looks at me like I’m insane. Fuck him. “You want to see ready?” I ask, pulling my hand out and thrusting my fingers under his nose. “See it? Smell it? Tell me I’m not ready.”
I watch his eyes dilate, his nostrils flare. His jaw clenches, the tight muscles twitching as a growl rips from his throat. “Enough!” he hisses, slapping my hand away. He stalks to the kitchen, jerking open the fridge, nearly taking the door off. He has a blood drained in seconds.
Hypocritical bastard. He’s not getting away that easy.
“You want me, Eric. You’re just fucking scared. Admit it!”
He slowly turns and looks at me, his blue eyes hard as steel, belying the war I feel in the bond. “You’re a child. Why would I want to fuck an inexperienced little girl? You could never please me.”
Rage flashes through me and I let out a furious scream. “You’re a liar! A filthy fucking liar!”
“I have never lied to you!” he roars again, just as a flash of lightning fills the sky, thunder following right behind making the floor tremble under my feet.
It’s as if we’re tied to the heavens, our emotions ruling the storm.
“Bullshit! You just fucking did! Have you forgotten I can feel you! I feel all of it, Erik. All the words you refuse to say, all the touches you won’t give! Every time you deny what you feel you’re lying to me. And to yourself. Fucking forbid you show the least bit of feeling. Inside you’re like that ocean out there, this huge endless mass of emotions swirling and raging. They rise up and reach for me, over and over, only to pull away. There’s so much,” I gasp, tears spilling over, the thought of his pain too much to bear. “You feel so fucking much it nearly drowns me. Sometimes I think that’s exactly what you want, to drown me. But then you pitch the other way and won’t let it loose.”
“No, I won’t stop till you let me in. You will to let me in.”
“No! That is my choice and mine alone!”
“Not anymore it’s not. There’s two of us now. You have to let me in. You’re just scared. Stop run…”
One long stride and he’s looming over me, darker than the storm outside. “Enough, Sookie. Do not say another word,” he bites out, each syllable sharper than a knife blade.
His boiling anger just incites mine even more. “Fuck you! I most certainly will! I’m sick of your lying, hypocritical, arrogant ass!”
His hands lock around my arms, pulling me up roughly against his chest, leaving my feet dangling. “Shut. Your. Mouth,” he growls.
He hates that I make him feel. His eyes wish me dead with every spark they throw. If I was dead he wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.
Well, too damn bad. I’m not going anywhere.
“No! I will not be quiet! I see them in your eyes! I see them even now. You hide behind your walls. You hate those walls, even though you cling to them. You’re afraid! You insist I let you feel everything! Every part of me, but you won’t do the same. Because you have some idiotic idea that you just aren’t capable. You lie to yourself even more than you lie to me.”
“Keep pushing little girl and you will not like what you find.” His voice is low now, quiet and controlled. The rumbling growl gone. My heart begins to race for a different reason. “You know I have a darkness inside of me, Sookie. It’s vicious. It has teeth that gnash and tear. And an unquenchable thirst. Slice me open and it will come for you, snarling and heaving. It will catch you. It will kill you. It will destroy us both. Remember that. Never forget it. You shouldn’t, you fucking put it there.”
He drops me back down onto my feet hard enough I stumble and fall on my ass. My body protests the rough treatment, pain spiking through me and tears stinging my eyes as I watch him head for the door. “That’s it! Run away and go lie to yourself some more you fucking coward!” I scream at his retreating back, more furious than ever.
The hateful word has barely left my throat before he’s on me. I’m pinned under his fury, frozen by his snarling fangs a breath from my face. He’s growling and panting like some hulking vicious beast trying to decide which part of me he wants to devour first. I only thought he had death in his eyes before, now they’re black with it.
He told me and I didn’t listen.
Not once since the curse broke have I been afraid of him.
Now the terror that I hoped to never feel again, the terror he saved me from, comes rushing back with a vengeance.
I should have listened. I shouldn’t have said those things, even if they’re true. He warned me and I still pushed. I pushed way too far. Now we’re both about to die and I have no one to blame but myself. All my wants and hopes for us will mix with our blood as it puddles on the floor. A fitting end to our tragic story I suppose.
I’ll be damned if I go out a sniveling coward though. I find my courage and slowly turn my head, opening my throat to him. “Do it. Rip it out. Take us away from this hell,” I beg, tears flooding my eyes, grief overwhelming me.
I wait, eyes clinched shut, for him to strike, for the pain of my flesh tearing, and for what I hope is the peaceful darkness that will follow. They never come. Instead the door slams shut, and my bow tight nerves explode, a shocking jolt slamming through my body, a scream ripping from my throat.
I lay there, shaking and staring at the ceiling trying to calm my racing heart. But instead the sobs come, wracking my body. I curl into a ball, my cries and tears drowned out by the storm.
I have no idea how long I’ve poured out my grief, but eventually the storm and I begin to calm, our pain and anger waning.
But he hasn’t come back. He’s close though, still at war with himself, me, and the world.
I find him up on the hill, drenched, sitting with his elbows braced on his knees, staring at the ocean. Mute and brooding as always. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence as I sit down beside him in the soaking wet grass. I’m already soaked, the cold rain seeping through my clothes and straight into my bones. I wrap my arms around my knees in a useless attempt at staying warm.
We sit, rigid and silent, the tension thicker than the darkness surrounding us.
The rain eventually slows to a drizzle, then finally stops altogether. The large Viking stone beside me is still storming under his impenetrable facade though.
Naturally I’m the one that breaks the silence.
“I gave you an out. Willingly. You could’ve killed me. Ended it all. There’s been so many times you could have–should have. Why didn’t you?”
Nothing. As fucking usual.
“I want to kill you sometimes, you know that?” I grumble.
He turns and looks at me, finally acknowledging my existence. His beautiful face is almost glowing in the darkness. “Darling, I’m already dead.”
“Ha ha. Very fucking funny.”
His expression tells me funny was the last thing he meant to be. “If you kill me, you kill yourself. Kill yourself, you kill me. Either way we’ll finally be rid of this pain. So pick and get it over with. I’m fucking tired.”
His eyes and voice nearly crush me. His defeat is…absolute. I’ve never seen him this way. Raging and tormented, yes. Even broken, but now he’s just….there’s no hope left in him, he’s completely given up. It fucking terrifies me.
My anger is washed away as violently as the crashing waves down on the beach taking the sands back out to sea. I’m left wasted by him, but more aware than ever.
“It’s not gone.”
He shakes his head, his usually bright eyes dull.
“How long have you known?”
“I only suspected til tonight.”
I stare at him as he turns to look back out at the ocean. I can barely breathe. The air is becoming increasingly harder to take in, as if a boulder is being slowly lowered onto my chest.
Why? Why are we so hated? Are we that much of a stain and humiliation to my family’s name. So sordid we deserve to suffer an endless torturous existence?
He stands, holding out his hand to me. “What is it with you always getting soaking wet and freezing when you come outside? Come. You’ll be sick if we don’t get you warmed up.”
I look up at him, ignoring his attempt at humor and willing him to feel how scared I am. “It won’t stop until we destroy each other, will it?”
He huffs, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. “I believe that’s the entire point.”
I just stare at his hand, numb from the cold and everything that’s happened tonight. He scoops me up and vamps us back inside and straight into the bathroom. He leaves me on the counter while he runs a bath. I watch the raindrops run down his hair and face as the blankness begins to enfold me, my mind retreating from my newfound knowledge.
I come back to the world submerged in hot water and wrapped in his arms. I stiffen. He’s naked. I’m naked. Our bodies tangled together. I can feel him against the back of my thighs. Just a few small movements and…
His chest rumbles under my ear. “Don’t. Please?” he begs, his fingers reaching up and playing with the ends of my hair as it floats in the water. “Can we just lay here and have some peace?”
Shamed I relax into his hold, running my hand over his chest and around his side. I gently squeeze him. “I’m so sorry, Erik. For everything.”
“I do not blame you anymore.”
He stays quiet. I can feel him searching hard for the strength to keep himself calm. He’s pushing back against all the anger and pain. I send him what I can to help.
He presses his lips into my hair, then lays his cheek down against my head.
“What are we going to do?”
“It’ll come to us. But I’m done thinking on it tonight.”
I sit up, sloshing water over the side of the tub and stare at him. “We have to think about it. I don’t want to fight you anymore. I hate it. I fucking hate it, Erik. You do too. We have to get rid of it for good. We have too!”
His brow drops as his big hands grip me, one around my chin, the other covering the back of my head. He pulls me close, a soft growl rumbling up from his throat. “Sookie.”
That beast is back in his eyes, staring me down, sending a sharp bolt of fear through me. He’s darkness and death wrapped in heavenly pale skin and blue eyes and I don’t know if he’s going to kiss me or eat me alive.
“What?” I squeak, my every nerve on high alert.
He crashes his lips into mine, his cool tongue delving between them the second I gasp. I’m too shocked and confused to respond until a wave of lust crashes over me.
I cry out from the force of it, but quickly let it take me away until he stops us yet again. I’m too dazed to protest this time though.
In one fluid motion he grabs me, stands us up and steps out of the tub, dripping water everywhere. I’m wrapped around him, clinging like a desperate child.
He pulls us apart, placing me on my feet, his eyes boring holes into my own. “I want you…like I’ve never wanted anything else in my thousand years.”
I can feel the truth of those words and even see it standing heavy and erect between us.
He takes a towel from the shelf and starts drying off. “But it’s not safe. We can’t risk it.”
“Not safe? What are you…”
Why would he think? Maybe he doesn’t trust himself? Or maybe he doesn’t trust me?
“That’s it! You think I’ll kill you. That the curse will. The ones in Fae, Andre, I killed them all and you think I’ll do the same to you.”
“I killed Andre. Dry off,” he grunts, shoving a towel at me.
I snatch it from him, not hiding my frustration. “But I burned him to a crisp!”
Not the least bit fazed by my agitation he wraps the towel around his slender hips, then looks at me with passive eyes. “Because he meant you harm. They all did.”
I stop and stare at him. He can’t think…
“Erik, it won’t happen. You’re not like them.”
“No, I’m worse,” he says, walking away.
I hurry after him, trying not to slip with my wet feet. “No! No, you’re not.”
He turns and grabs me by my arms, keeping me from falling into him and onto the floor. “I am, Sookie.”
Once again, I can feel the truth of his words, or his belief in them anyway. He really only sees himself as a monster. I see something else entirely. “Your little games, the times you’ve made me… You’ve been trying to give me what I want without touching me, haven’t you?” I whisper.
He lets me go, turning away. This time heading down stairs.
“I’ve been trying to teach you,” he mumbles, as he disappears.
“Teach me what!?!” I screech, chasing him like always.
He’s standing at the closet, his bottom half already encased in black pants.
Fucking vamp speed.
Avoiding my eyes, he pulls on his shirt, then throws a dress onto the bed for me. “You’ve only known fear and pain. I wanted you to know the pleasure. I wanted you to know what you could feel.”
I want to be angry, but I just can’t. I never once thought he was doing it for me. I slip the dress on and sink down onto the bed. “And you think you can only give me that from afar.”
He sits too, but on the other side, his back to me. “It’s too dangerous. We’re not meant to be together. Our kind kill each other on sight. I could drain you in seconds, you could turn me to dust. It’s suicidal.”
“It’s not, Erik. We’re bonded. I’m yours. And you’re mine. I chose you. The bond would’ve never formed otherwise. The last thing I want is to hurt you, let alone kill you. It won’t happen. The bond would never allow me to harm you.”
“You don’t know that. And even if that’s true it doesn’t negate the fact that we’re cursed, Sookie.” He finally turns to look at me, his face a stoic blank wall. “We do want to kill each other half the time. What if that’s exactly what he planned? Keep us apart until we’re nearly mad then bring us back together so we can tear each other apart. What if we’ve been fighting like animals for a moment of peace that’s only going to kill us both? He’s a sick twisted fuck. Don’t forget that.”
“Trust me, I haven’t. But which is it? The curse will kill us or you’re too much of a monster to make love to me?”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
I flop down on the bed, sick to death of this back and forth. “Yes, Erik, you are,” I groan, staring at the ceiling, then I turn my head and stare at him, pushing at him through the bond to look at me. He fights for only a moment, surprising me by laying down on his side to face me.
What doesn’t surprise me is how he’s propped up on his elbow so he can loom over me.
Not gonna work this time, buster.
“Tell me why you stopped.”
“Why didn’t you rip my throat out tonight? You were going to, you wanted to, I could see it in your eyes. But you didn’t. Why?”
He lays over onto his back, hiding as usual. “I don’t know.”
“Erik,” I grit out, turning and propping up so I can loom over him this time. He still refuses to meet my eyes.
“I…I couldn’t,” he mumbles, raising his hands and diving them into his hair. “I did want to. You made me so fucking angry. But I couldn’t.”
“I told you, I don’t know. You should be dead right now, we both should. Maybe it was self-preservation.”
I roll my eyes at him, even though he’s still not looking, then reach over and smack the top of his head. “It was the bond you stubborn oaf!”
My wrist is in his grasp half a second later, his eyes glowing from slitted lids as they stare me down. There’s a faint growl coming from his throat too.
I don’t jerk away or fight him, but I don’t back down either. After a momentary stand-off he lets me go, his beast caged again.
“I don’t think that’s what it was, and I’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you. You need to trust me.”
“Trust something that you admit you’re not even sure of? So what? We’re just supposed to keep going like we are? Just live in this house together constantly driving each other mad? Let him win?” I ask.
Of course he doesn’t respond.
I sit up and jump off the bed to storm around the room. “Fuck that, Erik. I’m not doing this anymore!”
He sits up, holding his hands out. “What do you suggest we do, Sookie?”
I walk over to stand in front of him, taking a few deep breaths to try to calm myself then tell him. “Be together. In every way. And if it ends us, it ends us. At least we’ll go out happy.”
He rolls his eyes this time and huffs, “You want us to fuck so bad you’re willing to risk our lives?”
I lean over, sticking my finger in his face. “You were willing to end it all up on that hill earlier. And I am not afraid of him! I hate him with an all-consuming fury, but I do not fear him or anything he could do to me.”
His eyes go from my finger then slowly up to my face, his tilted head and slight smirk oozing smugness. “You’d be fine with us dying and leaving him alive and well? How is that not him winning?”
“Well then, what do you suggest? Because if you don’t let us fuck soon, I’m going to die anyway,” I growl, crossing my arms over my chest, knowing very well I must look and sound like a petulant child.
He stands up, laughing, and it’s real, just like earlier. It undoes me just like earlier too. “You won’t die from being horny. Trust me, I know. Though it may feel like you will.”
He takes a step towards to me, putting us so close I can feel the coolness drifting off his skin. I also feel his eyes boring into the top of my skull. I gather up my courage and raise my eyes to his.
They’re so full of intensity my knees almost buckle.
“Why is it you want me so bad anyway? I mean I know I’m quite handsome and have more experience than…”
“Because you’re mine. We’re bonded. We’re suppose to have sex,” I blurt out trying to keep the upper hand, then add quietly, “And I think it will help us.”
That damn sexy eyebrow rises. “Help us?”
Studying our feet and worrying my fingers so they don’t betray me and reach for him, I attempt to make him understand. “I don’t know, I just feel it. I don’t just want to, I think we need to. I’m not just curious or horny. I need you. My entire being is constantly begging me to be with you. I can’t even think of anything else. There has to be a reason for that.”
He stays quiet so long my every nerve has caught fire, then finally, “What do you think it will do?”
“Heal us, or at least give us a good start,” I whisper, meeting his eyes again. They’re no longer arrogant, but nervous. Reaching for his hand, I lace our fingers together. “Do you even want me, Erik? I know you said you did, that your body does, but does the rest of you?”
He stays silent, fighting himself. I give him only a small reprieve.
“I know I was just a child, but I took your freedom away. I put you in a prison when you were innocent of any wrongdoing. You saved my life and I took yours away in return. If I could free you without killing you, I would. Maybe it would be best if I left. I could stay close so the bonding sickness wouldn’t be…”
I look up. “Erik.”
“No,” he growls, jerking his hand from mine, making to go up stairs. “There’s no escape for us.”
It’s probably not my smartest idea, but I pop in front of him, holding my hands up. “Listen to me. Please. Maybe me leaving would take care of the curse. If we choose to separate on our own, maybe he’ll get bored and free us from it. We can make him believe it.”
His face says he wants to tear me apart, the bond quakes with pain.
His huge hands grasp my arms and I’m dangling off the ground again, staring into tortured eyes. “I said, NO. I waited nearly eight hundred years. I just got you back, I’m never letting you out of my sight again. It’s your turn to be my prisoner.”
“I can be that, it’s not like I haven’t spent most of my life as one anyway. I’ll be anything you want me to.”
He deflates at my compliance, lowering me back to the floor and rubbing his grip from my arms.
“I don’t trust myself,” he finally admits, his head hanging. “After what you’ve been through…I can’t hurt you that way too.”
I reach up and cup his cheeks, lifting his face so he’ll look at me. “You won’t, I trust you and I trust the bond. Neither of us will be hurt. If that’s what you wanted from me you would’ve taken it already.”
“Bond with me,” he asks pulling my hands off his face and holding them.
“What? We’re already bonded.”
“We have a Fae bond, not a vampire bond.”
“Oh. I didn’t know there was such a thing. But, sure. If it’s what you want, of course I will. How do we do it?”
He spins me around and pulls me against his chest, holding me there with one arm banded across my chest. I hear a crunch and then his bleeding wrist is in front of my face.
“Drink, liten kirgare,” he whispers in my ear, his voice melting into my bones. “And I will drink from you. Then we will be one.”