“Damian, what are you doing?” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. Once again, she was an open book, her emotions clearly written all over her face.
She was shy.
She was nervous.
She was hesitant.
But she was also excited and confident this was their destiny. Her eyes were alight with desire and, dare he hope…
love?
He momentarily ignored her question as he set about his last preparatory task. Love of music was one of the many things they shared and he knew how to pick the perfect song to display his feelings. Maybe it was a pussy thing, but he didn’t give a shit. It made her happy and that was all that mattered. When he’d picked the perfect song, he walked slowly toward her, holding out his hand for hers. This time there was no hesitation as he gently helped her to her feet and walked to the center of the room.
“I’m making you mine, Analise,” he whispered as he took her in his arms.
C
hapter
36
Analise
She fought to hold it together when Damian wrapped his arms around her just as John Legend’s “All of Me” began playing. All thoughts of talking had completely vanished.
I’m making you mine, Analise
played on a continuous loop through her head, the words comforting yet frightening. Her heart beat double time and her stomach was in knots.
She knew Damian well enough already to know that he didn’t pick this song without intention. John Legend may be singing, but it was Damian speaking. He accepted her the way she was, imperfections and all. He knew placing her heart in his hands was the hardest thing she could imagine doing, yet here she was doing it anyway. She was ready to skydive out of a plane five thousand feet above the earth and he would be there to catch her wherever she landed. And did she mention she was terrified of heights?
His gaze was supernova intense and she couldn’t have looked away if the whole damn place burned down around them. They swayed slowly, bodies moving as one, completely in tune with each other.
“You want to be mine, Analise.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And it was true. Damian had known from the moment he’d come back she’d decided to stay, even though he was arrogant enough not to bother asking. That should piss her off, but for some reason all she felt was relief. Relief that he still wanted her, even though she was hesitant only a few short hours ago. For even though he’d done nothing to the contrary, she was worried he’d change his mind and think she wasn’t worth the effort.
Damian had bared his soul every time he spoke to her. He’d not held back one speck of emotion, unlike her. And it was time for that to end.
“Yes,” she replied softly, but confidently. “I give you all of me, Damian.” His face, already taut with lust, now looked razor sharp. His eyes, already bright with desire, bathed her in his light, his warmth, his love. His arms, already tightly wound around her, crushed her so tightly she could barely breathe. And his mouth, hovering just millimeters above hers finally crashed down, taking ownership of hers.
She wound her hands in his inky hair, holding him fast to her lips as they ate at each other. His hands were all over her now, cupping her ass, her breasts. His mouth broke from hers, kissing and suckling down her neck. His teeth scraped her collarbone, causing her to inhale sharply. She turned her head to allow him better access, causing him to hiss.
“Fuck, Analise, I want you so much,” he growled.
“Yes. I’m yours.” She wanted to be his more than her next breath. She ran her hands over his biceps, his back and down to cup his buns of steel. This was the first time she’d been allowed to touch them and damn if she didn’t want to spend an entire day just worshipping his fine ass.
He pulled away, taking a few steps back. Disappointed, she’d come to expect this from Damian. As much as she didn’t like to be touched, he must abhor it for she hadn’t been allowed yet to touch him. Every time she’d tried, he’d secure her hands somehow or distract her in other ways.
But that was going to end today. If they were going to be each other’s forever, she would be allowed to touch him. She’d been dying to map his body with her mouth, her lips, her tongue. She wanted to explore and trace every tattoo and he hadn’t allowed her proper access to his very fine physique yet. She wanted his cock in her mouth, his pleasure under her complete control.
“Take off your clothes,” she demanded.
“No, kitten. That’s not how this will work,” Damian chuckled. “And as fan-fucking-tastic as that dress looks on you, right now it will look better on the floor.”
“Damian, I want to touch you. You haven’t let me touch you yet.” Her whiney five-year-old alter ego had returned, stomping her feet and flailing her small body.
“Oh, I know what you want to do to me, Analise. You want to map my body with your mouth, your lips and your tongue. You want to suck my cock and just thinking about that makes me want to blow.” Was he mocking her?
“No, I’m not mocking you, Analise, but I can’t give up control in the bedroom. It’s not in my nature.” He was serious.
“I’m not asking you to give up control, Damian. I can accept that part of you.” She wouldn’t verbally admit to liking it, although she very much did and he knew it. “But I can’t accept never touching my mate. That’s not in
my
nature.”
They regarded each other silently, the sexually charged moment now morphing into something else entirely. She felt like she was in a cowboy showdown, dusky, dry dirt swirling around them as they stood in the middle of a run-down town, guns drawn, neither one backing down. They were on the precipice of something more profound than just vampire bonding. The future of their entire relationship stood precariously in the balance because of this one simple request.
Damian sighed and dropped his head, hands now on his hips. He looked so damned beautiful in his black denim jeans and white T-shirt, stretched taut across his beefy chest. Her mouth watered at the thought of doing all the things she wanted. All the things Damian had been denying her.
“Why won’t you let me touch you, Damian?” She had a pretty damn good idea, but she wanted him to tell her. She hoped that would the first step to moving past it.
“Analise,” he growled.
She closed the physical gap he’d created between them. She could only pray he’d close the emotional one. She knew that she wanted to bond with him more than anything she’d ever wanted, but couldn’t do it with this one last black cloud forever hanging over them.
“Damian, please. I’m not asking to tie you up. I simply want to touch what’s mine. You can’t deny me that.”
His face turned hard, all desire now replaced with anger. “I sure as fuck can.”
For the second time today, devastation nearly crushed her. Whoever said that words couldn’t hurt you was full of complete bullshit. Words were the sharpest, most hurtful weapons man possessed. Her heart physically ached. She was a pretty fucked up person. She admitted it. Human touch sent her cowering in fear. Trust was simply a pretty word steeped in lies. Love was a fool’s paradise. But she was here, willing to try putting all her fucked-upedness aside. For him. And he wasn’t willing to do the same. And she simply couldn’t live with that.
She turned and walked toward the bay of windows that lined the east side of Damian’s penthouse. The view of the harbor was clear today and she marveled at its beauty. She’d been landlocked her entire life, never really understanding the allure of the ocean. She loved it already. And this was the last time she’d look at it before she returned to her lonely, solitary life in Eau Claire. Hopefully, Damian would honor his word and still help find Beth.
“I can’t be with you, Damian. I have to go,” she whispered. The words tasted bitter and foreign on her tongue, the truth of them as painful as being flayed with a butter knife. Girlish fantasies of how this day would end were now weighted down with sadness and emptiness. She was right when she’d thought loving and losing Damian DiStephano would destroy her. She felt obliterated. Completely annihilated. Worthless.
She remained with her back to him, unable to look at him for fear she’d crumble, pushing aside something that meant so much to her. No. She wouldn’t be able to look upon his face ever again.
“I hope you honor your word to help me find—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before she was whipped around and pressed against the cold glass by one angry vampire. She didn’t have to look at his face to know he was pissed. She felt the anger emanating from him.
Don’t look at him, don’t look at him
she chanted to herself repeatedly. And that might have worked, had he not grabbed her chin firmly between his finger and thumb and lifted it so her gaze was forced to meet his.
“I thought I’d already made it clear that you were mine, Analise.” Anguish, anger, and determination caused several rows of deep wrinkles to crease his forehead.
“This isn’t a dictatorship,” she quipped.
Oh, Analise, you stupid, stupid girl.
You don’t goad the shark with fresh chum in the water and expect to swim away in one piece.
Damian smirked, but it was laced with piquant, and for the first time in his presence, she felt a tiny twinge of fear. He was a dominating, formidable male who was also a Vampire Lord. Which meant people didn’t tell him no. Or if they did, they regretted it pretty damn fast. And that was about the place where she was.
“Oh, kitten. You’re so very wrong there. This may be America, but we vampires don’t live by the old U. S. of A. democratic rules. We very much live in a fucking dictatorship and here…
I’m
the motherfucking king.”
Anger, her very best friend, returned with a raging vengeance. No way was she backing down now.
Bring.
It.
On.
Fang.
Boy.
“You’re a fucking asshole.”
“Unoriginal.” He ran his nose along the underside of her jaw, inhaling deeply. As usual, her hands were held immobile above her head in one of his. His other hand palmed her bare ass, courtesy of the skimpy thong she’d worn. Déjà vu hit and she remembered a similar position just a few days ago in Dragonfly’s office.
“Damian, stop.” Perhaps it would have worked better if she’d put more conviction behind her hollow words. She had to get out of there before her resolve completely crumbled like a rotted out piece of wood.
“Analise, I know you don’t want to go.” When he nipped her earlobe her core flooded with desire. Damn him and his irresistible allure.
“I can’t think when you’re doing that,” she breathed.
“That’s the point, kitten,” he groaned as he ground his steely shaft into her stomach while continuing his sensual assault on the other side of her neck now. He knew exactly the right spot that drove her insane. His free hand now reached behind her and began pulling down the zipper on her dress.
She decided to take a different tactic. If she continued down this path, she’d end up bonding with Damian without resolving this wedge he’d unconsciously put between them. Then she’d have no way out.
“I know it’s because of the witches.” It worked. His hands and mouth froze and his body, seconds ago strained with lust was now vibrating with restrained fury.
“We are not having this conversation, Analise.” He released her, turned and walked toward the fireplace, muscles rigid. She felt cold and bereft. Abandoned.
As hard as it was for Damian to talk about his past, he’d done it.
For her.
Now it was her turn. If she couldn’t return the trust in kind, she had no business standing before this man asking him to peel back his last layer of protection. She’d never felt more vulnerable than she did right now and she’d felt plenty vulnerable over the last few days.
“My earliest memory of a foster home was when I was five, but that was already my fourth home.” She had to force herself not to turn back toward the window. Nothing would be gained if they both had their backs to each other. “The Farber’s. That family had eleven foster children ranging from seventeen to me. I was the youngest. I’d heard that the babies of the family usually have it easier, but that’s not quite how it worked out for me. I became the older children’s plaything instead.”
At that, Damian turned around to face her and she fought to hold his penetrating gaze. This was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. She could get through it, though. She could. Those experiences made her strong, invincible.
She’d often wondered how the foster system could be so vile, so broken. Sure, she’d known kids who were placed with loving parents, who were later adopted, who grew up in really great homes. She’d just never been that lucky and now she had to wonder if it was for a reason. As if she was meant to live that life in part for Damian. For this very second.
“My bed was a blanket on the floor in one of the bedroom closets, which they locked at night so I wouldn’t wander around. I couldn’t go to the bathroom. I was a bed wetter and would often wake up lying in my own urine. When that happened, my punishment was spending the day locked in the same closet with no food. They wouldn’t let me change my clothes or my bedding.”
Damian looked horrified. Her stomach churned with the need to purge the vileness of her memories.
“They didn’t keep me more than a few months. The next foster home wasn’t much better. They had two foster kids in addition to their three. Food was scarce and I’d already lost quite a bit of weight from the last place and was very unhealthy. I became pretty sick and they dropped me off at the emergency room, never to return. It took a few months to place me again. I think CPS decided they’d better get me well before farming me out again.”
Damian began walking toward, but she held up her hand, stopping him short. She couldn’t do this if he was touching her. His face had completely morphed to one of sympathy, pain and agony.
“I went through a couple more homes before being placed with Jana and Jack. I loved them and they loved me. At least Jana did. I had a room all my own, decorated in pink.” Damian’s eyes shined with the understanding of why she’d freaked out about the pink room at the shelter. “Jana treated me like a real daughter. She let me help her cook and grocery shop. She bought me toys, clothes and books. I was placed with them when I was eight and Jana died of cancer when I was ten. Jack couldn’t handle her death and sent me back to the system.” To hell on earth.