When she came back into herself, her eyes slowly opened to see Damian gazing both hungrily and worshipfully at her. He made her feel so beautiful, so special. Almost loved.
Stop Analise…it was just an orgasm, not a marriage proposal.
“You’re fucking amazing, Analise.” His voice was low and raspy, his desire for her evident. She felt bereft when he removed his hand and, while she shouldn’t have been shocked when he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, she couldn’t help but gasp. His hips were now once again moving against her cloth-covered sex and she felt the tingling sensation of a second orgasm looming.
“I can’t wait to have you tied to my bed, at my mercy. I’m going to spend all night gorging on my new favorite meal.”
She took a sharp breath. No one had ever talked so blatantly sexually to her. His face became taut with lust, sharpening his beautiful features.
“That turns you on doesn’t it, kitten? You crave my dominance.” He nuzzled the delicious little place where her neck met her shoulder, nipping slightly. A thrill shot through her. “You crave my bite. You want to know what it feels like when I pull your sweet essence into me. You need to know what it feels like to have my mouth all over you. To have my cock inside your sweet, tight pussy as I’m taking your blood. Your desire to know what it’s like for me to own every delicious inch of your body is written all over your face.”
She wanted to lie and tell him no. But every word he’d said was spot-on and she knew he could see the truth reflected in her eyes.
“Christ, Analise, I want you so goddamned bad. I’m in absolute agony with the need to be buried balls deep inside you, making you mine.” He groaned as he touched his forehead to hers. “But you’re not ready yet. And when I fuck you, make no mistake about it, you will give me all of you. Body, heart, mind and soul. All of you will be irrevocably mine. Forever.”
Whoa
.
What?
His?
Forever?
Could she only think in one-word sentences?
Her heart raced. That bitch, Hope, reared her foolish head. Made her dream of things that could never be.
Love.
Trust.
Belonging.
His words were like music to her ears. He wanted her. For more than just a quick lay? And while she may want it to happen, it never could. Never would. Things like this just didn’t happen to her. Other than Beth and Jana, she hadn’t been truly wanted by anyone in her whole life. Or loved. She was unworthy.
Damian had the power to irreversibly break what was left of her damaged heart into a million pieces. She liked him way too much already for her own sanity. She was getting in far too deep here, on a speeding train that had lost its brakes. And the only thing that could happen in that scenario was a huge fiery crash when it eventually jumped the tracks.
“You’re thinking too much, kitten. Get out of your own head. This”—he motioned between the two of them—“us. It’s going to happen. It’s only a matter of time and you’d best accept it. Sooner rather than later, because I honestly don’t know how long I can hold back from taking you.”
He placed another searing kiss on her lips before getting up from the large bed. She lay there, unable to move, her mind swirling.
“If you feel rested enough, why don’t you take a shower and I’ll be back to get you in an hour. We’ll eat some breakfast and talk. I want to hear more about your missing friend. Okay?”
She could only dumbly nod. He walked toward the door and she couldn’t help how her eyes traveled to his very fine ass. He turned back just before he reached the door.
Whoops…busted
.
He gave her such a gentle smile it almost made her cry. What he said next did.
“Oh, and, Analise…you are worthy, my love.”
Tears slid down her face as he turned and silently walked out. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word, and for that, she was grateful.
C
hapter
17
Damian
Damian entered Dev’s office, barely acknowledging T.
Forty-five minutes before he could return to Analise. Being separated from her made his heart ache. Being with her made his body ache. He hadn’t lost his erection once in the twelve hours since he’d met her, so he’d had to take a quick shower and empty his pipes before he burst. It was hollow, not gratifying, but served its purpose and the pressure had been slightly eased. At least maybe he could stand to be around her a little longer before he threw her against the closest object and fucked her into next week.
He could already hear her thoughts. Even if he couldn’t, she broadcast them loudly. It was like standing next to speakers at a rock concert. It took every ounce of strength to walk out of that bedroom when he saw her crying. He’d essentially already staked his claim on her, making his intentions known, and he knew she needed time to process his words.
The fact that she thought herself unworthy of love absolutely gutted him to his very soul. He had a ferocious need to know her, inside and out. How did his precious Analise come to know such pain and agony?
“I have some information on the girl.”
He glared daggers at T. “She’s not a fucking girl, she’s my Moira. And you’d do well to treat her with the respect she deserves.”
Surprise briefly flashed across T’s sharp features. If Analise was a conundrum, T was a complete enigma. No one knew much about the guy and Damian had never really given his story too much thought. He was a great asset, a great warrior. That was all he’d needed to know. He’d never asked. T never offered. Now that he’d met Analise, however, he couldn’t help but wonder what his story was.
“Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea.”
“Well, now you do.” Damian was acting like a bastard, but he was on the razor’s edge, the sharp blade threatening to cut deep.
“Analise Lisbeth Aster is her full name. She was a ward of the State of Wisconsin from birth.”
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Could it possibly be?
T regarded him briefly before continuing. “She was in and out of no less than a dozen foster homes before she ran away at the age of fifteen. She was off the grid until the age of twenty, when she got her GED. She’s taking classes at the U of WI. Sociology major. She lives alone in a run-down duplex in a shitty part of town and has less than fifty bucks to her name. She’s behind a month on rent. She worked at some trucker diner until just a few days ago, right before she showed up at Dragonfly. She also occasionally has singing gigs at coffee shops and bars to earn extra cash.”
“What have you uncovered for the time she was off the grid?” Because in addition to being in and out of foster care, which he was sure was hard enough, the time she spent on the street no doubt molded her into the woman she was today. His gut churned at what she would have gone through to survive.
“Nothing yet, my lord. I’ll need more time. I will hit the streets myself this evening and see if I can find someone that knows her.”
“Yes, do that. Did you find anything out about a friend of hers named Beth?”
“No, my lord. But I’ll check into that as well. Do you have a last name?”
“No…not yet.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question, but he had to ask. “Any boyfriend?”
T tried holding back a smirk, quite unsuccessfully, he might add. His death stare shut that shit down. “No, my lord. No boyfriend, no friends really to speak of that I could find. She’s quite the loner.”
It wasn’t much information, but it certainly gave a small glimpse into her psyche. Shuffled from home to home, living on the streets, no real friends, no real relationships, no acceptance, no love. She’d only known abandonment, hurt and distrust. So much made sense now. But he still had so many questions. How much would his kitten tell him about herself? Little, he was certain. She was fiercely prideful and would never want him to know of her past. Could he tell her about his? As much as it would hurt, the answer was a resounding yes. Give a little to get a little.
“Keep digging. I want you to uncover every nugget of information available.”
“Yes, my lord.”
T had just left when Damian’s cell phone rang. Unknown number. He almost let it go to voicemail, but his gut screamed this was important.
“Damian.”
“My lord, it’s Frankie Durillo, the manager of Dragonfly.”
“I know who you are, Frankie. You don’t need to give me your fucking title.” Fucker.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just got a call from my head bartender and thought it strange, so I decided to call you.”
“Human, you are making no fucking sense. Either spit it out or I’m hanging up.” Jesus, was this guy always ready to piss his pants? He really needed to talk to Dev about this asshole. Maybe he should fire him and replace him with someone actually competent. Dev would likely thank him. Yes, he’d add that to his to-do list. Besides, he didn’t like the possessive way Frankie acted about his mate.
“My apologies, my lord. Someone came looking for Analise last evening, shortly after you left.”
Ice froze his veins. She’d been here for just a few short days. Who would be looking for her? “Who?”
“I don’t know, my lord. He refused to leave a name. Said he was an old friend. He asked when she was working again.”
“Pull up the security footage and send it to my phone. I want it within the next thirty minutes, max. I want to see this asshole.”
“Yes, of course.”
Damian hung up and dialed Giselle. It was highly inconvenient sometimes to not be able to speak telepathically with all vampires, but such was the ways of their kind. They could only speak in that manner with their mates and those in their own Regent. They didn’t even have that ability between the three lords themselves and they didn’t even have that ability with those in their Regent if they were too far away.
“Giselle, I need to see you now.” Her response was a heavy sigh.
Fucking woman. He prayed for patience.
Several minutes later she came sauntering into the office. He held back a retort about what took her so damn long. If his suspicions were correct, they may not need the detective’s work, but it would certainly help verify what he felt in his bones to be true.
“Have you reached out to the detective yet about the Eau Claire baby?”
“No.”
He breathed. In and out. In and out.
Hold your tongue, Damian
.
“That needs to be done today. Please.” Christ, that hurt. Physically painful.
“Fine. I’ll see him this morning.” He nodded and she left. She was getting one nicety from him today. That was it.
He knew what the detective would find about the Eau Claire baby delivered so many years ago. T’s comments from yesterday came racing back.
“He did say that the Eau Claire female was left with the family in the winter months, December or January timeframe. That one was kind of a debacle and the adoptive parents called the cops on him, so he left the baby and ran. We don’t know whether the parents kept that baby or not.”
His money was on not. That female became a ward of the state. Bounced around from foster home to foster home until she’d had enough and ran away, living on the streets. His gut was wailing loudly now. His Moira was in danger. He felt it with every fiber of his being. He knew the man he’d see on the video wouldn’t be human. He would be vampire.
Which meant that they’d just found Xavier’s second daughter. His Moira, Analise Lisbeth Aster.
C
hapter
18
Mike
He watched her from his bay window. His heart raced. She was like a feast for a starving man’s eyes. She’d been pacing on the front porch for damn near twenty minutes now. Hadn’t rung the doorbell. Hadn’t just
poofed
herself into his living room like she owned the goddamned place, her usual M.O. She looked nervous, unsure. She was different. Not at all like the self-confident, guarded, cocky seductress she generally portrayed herself to be.
Now he knew better. Underneath her self-imposed frosty persona, Giselle was just as fragile as everybody else. She wanted acceptance, validation…possibly even love. Giselle put on a good front, but he could see beneath her complex layers into the real woman…
er, vampire
…she tried so desperately to cover up.
He recognized a kindred spirit when he saw one. She’d suffered greatly, as had he. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to her, against his better judgment. Against his will even. Their sadness, their pain, their darkness called to each other. He despised this unwanted attraction to her. Despised himself and to some extent, her. She was everything he’d loathed for nearly a dozen years. Not her, per se, but her kind. What the vampire species had done to Jamie, the woman he’d planned on making his wife someday, was unforgettable. Unforgiveable.
His heart and body were fucking traitors. Perhaps physical desire didn’t play by the species rules, but his emotional desire? He actually
cared
about Giselle…her feelings, her well-being. Her hopes and dreams.
Pussy alert.
The very bloodsuckers he was now attracted to had ripped away from him the last female whose hopes and dreams he had cared about.
Logically, he knew it wasn’t Giselle. She had nothing to do with Jamie’s kidnapping and subsequent torture. She’d wanted to stop the rogue vampires just as much, if not more, than he. Yes, logically he knew that, but his heart had a tough time separating the two.
However, standing here with the biggest hard-on he’d had since the last time he’d almost fucked Giselle in Dev’s office, he knew he could put those feelings aside. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He was unnaturally attracted to Giselle. And she was here standing on his doorstep.
She was breathtakingly, painfully beautiful. He leaned toward brunettes, but loved Giselle’s angelic golden blonde locks that hung like silk to the middle of her back. He’d fantasized countless times about holding a fistful of it while he pumped into her tight sheath from behind. Her vibrant eyes were mesmerizing, the most unnatural color of cerulean blue he’d ever seen, dotted with tiny violet-like flecks. They were the doors to her untainted, pure soul.