Authors: Velvet DeHaven
“Fuck!
Doctor Treviso… Oh God,” I keened. "Close. Please.”
I was begging like I had just accused Madison of doing, but I didn’t have the time or energy to ponder the irony as he crooked his fingers inside me and I was assaulted with a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. My back curved off the desk, and I writhed on the smooth desktop, my scream cut off by his lips on mine. He continued working me, harder, faster, deeper, and I felt my body drawing closer to its peak while his thumb played me expertly.
"Please, Simon," I panted, thrusting my hips against his hand firmly. "So close.
Fuck!"
He brought his lips close to my ear and purred for me. "You do realize, Sofia," he cooed as he stroked his fingers roughly against my clenching walls, "that is the last time I will allow you to call me that name here."
Whether he was serious about this unexpected kink or if he was just tormenting me, I wasn’t sure. Either way, it was hot as hell, and I responded accordingly, voicing my understanding while my body spasmed around him, garnering a short growl.
"Yes,
mia bella Sofia
." The combination of his constant rumbling and his fingers pumping me feverishly hurtled me toward the edge of reality. "Now, be a good girl for me
. Vieni.
Come.
Vieni per me, mio tesoro
. Come for me, pet."
I was already disappearing in the bliss I felt, so he really didn't have to tell me again. I was his entirely—his mate, his love—and my body responded to him as it had since the moment I met him. I almost didn’t recognize the sounds coming from my throat when my aching pussy convulsed around his fingers. "Doctor Treviso!"
I rode a powerful wave of emotions and physical ecstasy, my vision growing hazy while he embraced my shivering body. I felt high, like I was flying on some invisible cloud, and I was not sure how long it was before I came down. When my sight was clear, and my breathing and my heart rate were under control, I smiled.
If his expression was anything to go by, I was certain it was a rather goofy-looking one, but I couldn’t help it. This experience was a hundred times better than the limited encounters I’d had in the past—those had been sloppy and just downright embarrassing. Despite the frantic pace, being a six hundred year old incubus did give Simon an advantage, one I was more than happy to make good use of.
He slowly pulled his fingers from my pussy and raised them for me to see. I was slightly embarrassed to see the slick fluid coating his fingers, but my mouth fell open in surprise and arousal when he leisurely licked the digits clean. He grinned when I all but leered at him. "Are you quite all right, Sofia?"
He pulled me into his embrace, rubbing my back and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You thought I was angry." When I muttered, ‘you were', he shook his head. "Not at you,
cara mia.
I was quite angry at
la puttana
for being so obvious and for upsetting you. I was not angry for your outburst."
He stroked my hair and smiled softly. "I questioned you about your knowledge of what you did, because your behavior was quite violent, though not physically. It is typical in new mates who are defending or… showing possession of their other half. While I know without a doubt you are my mate, I must confess to still being fairly shocked at seeing that instinct come from you so soon. Shocked and obviously pleased."
I smirked. "You mean aroused as hell, Doctor Treviso?"
He growled playfully, and then with the utmost care, cupped my face in his palms, the fingers of one hand barely touching the injured flesh. "It seems the apology I have been contemplating may not be as necessary as I first believed."
I blinked. "What could you possibly have needed to apologize for?"
He stroked my good cheek and let his other hand wander down to my neck. "While I have not yet experienced most of my instincts, I was aware of how my behavior is going to change during the mating process. I feared how you would react to my conduct."
I gave him an adoring look. "Simon, I somehow doubt there’s absolutely anything you can say or do to upset me. Surprise me, definitely. Upset me, no."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Is that so,
cara bella?
You looked quite concerned earlier, when you thought that I was angry at you."
I blushed. "I... That's..." I really didn't know what to say to that, which seemed to amuse him immensely. "Yes, well, you seem quite pleased with yourself."
He helped me off the desk and pulled me flush against his chest, grinning wickedly. "I am not half as pleased with myself as I am with you." He chuckled when I glared at him then lifted my knuckles to his lips. "If you would like,
mia diletta
, I could join you later this evening for a short while. I do not wish to impose on any plans you might have, but if I am to be honest, it is a less than comfortable experience being away from you for too long."
I agreed to wait until he’d restored order to his office and allow him to follow me home, knowing my father planned to be in his studio late into the evening. It would be nice to have company instead of being in the large house alone, even more so as the company was the man I was falling more and more in love with every day.
I wasn’t too shocked when he offered to come in and help me prepare dinner. After my accident this afternoon, and the fact that all of the nerves in my body were currently so sensitive, I figured it was even more difficult than it would have already been to keep any sort of distance between us. So with him in the kitchen, the salad and the preparation of the chicken were done in record time, and after sliding my main course into the oven, I decided to approach him with my question.
He seemed to sense my hesitation, because he pulled me into his arms, resting his cheek on my curls and purring softly to me. "Whatever is the matter,
diletta?
You seem troubled."
I plunged in head first, believing it best to just get it out of the way. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened in your office."
He went silent and rigid in my embrace. "You regret it." I was sure he meant it as a question, but it sounded more like a statement.
I tilted my head back to gaze into his still dark eyes. "No, Simon. I would never regret what happened. I was just worried—" I glanced down momentarily before my gaze found his again and I sucked on my bottom lip “—you would."
He understood immediately and smiled at me, drawing me back into his grasp and caressing my hair. He tenderly nuzzled my temple with his nose, and when the low rumble started again in his chest, I melted into him, sighing in contented bliss.
"Amore mio,
I made a vow to you that I would attempt to be more accepting of, and responsive to, my instincts. While I made this promise only to please you, I must confess I am quite pleased to have made such a vow. Even with the uncertainty of the instincts I am feeling, and will feel in the future, I am happier than I have been in all of my centuries upon this Earth."
"I'm glad," I whispered, basking in the emotions flowing between us and allowing my hands to travel over his shoulders and down his back. We stayed that way for a few moments before a twinge of curiosity hit me. "May I ask you something? I should warn you, it may be emotional.”
"Sofia," he sighed quietly, "no matter what inquiries you may have throughout our lives together, if there is something you do not understand or wish to know, whatever it may be, then you are well within your right to ask me. You are my mate and deserve to know everything you wish. I will always tell you the truth."
I swallowed. "I don't want to offend you, but if you hated yourself so much, why did you bother accepting Maymuna back and taking her, Kendal and Grace as a clan?"
He took a deep breath and held it momentarily before releasing it. He pulled back, took my hand and led me to the couch. I could only guess he wanted me as relaxed as possible when he shared whatever it was that was on his mind.
"As Maymuna informed you, while I have loathed my whole being for my entire existence up until now, I have never felt as such toward them. I know the circumstances of their changes—none of which I can tell you, as they are their own stories and not mine—and they are vastly different from my own.”
He was quiet for a long before he spoke again. “As I have mentioned before, I was born to aristocracy, and people in such positions at that time were expected to participate in certain events, and I do not speak of balls or banquets, though there were those. They were more often than not full of debauchery, corrupt, but there were other events as well. With such a high standing position, my father and I myself were often in attendance at trials and executions. While I did not always agree with the punishment carried out for most of the executions, I had been raised with the strict belief that one was to honor thy father and mother. That, combined with the fact that neither were pleased with my existence, made me determined to observe that rule for the longest time, if for no reason than to keep them… as content as possible with me.
“Then I met the healer,” he whispered, “and I disobeyed my father.”
His voice was distant, hollow, haunted. “I cannot recall how many times I listened to men and women scream and beg for mercy which would never be shown to them upon this Earth. Never once did I speak up on the behalf of those who did not deserve such extremes for their crimes, and worse, those who were innocent. How tragically fitting was it for me to watch the woman I loved in my human life to die in the same barbaric manner, and at my hand nonetheless?”
“Simon—”
“And when I awoke as this, I felt it was my punishment, that I was so unworthy in the eyes of the God I once believed in that I would not even receive my judgment before his throne. I took my little healer to
that man
to be put to death for being a monster she never was, so I believed this was divinely ironic retribution.”
I felt horribly guilty for the hint of jealousy that bled into the heartbreak. I couldn’t imagine the type of horrors my mate must’ve witnessed as a human, from plagues to horrible executions, and then feeling the unparalleled shame and remorse for believing I was responsible for the death of someone I loved. I could not begin to fathom it, and as such, was completely clueless as to what to say.
Wordlessly, I lifted my hand and gently massaged his back, a tiny, sad smile curling my lips when he automatically began to purr.
The rest of my week, and indeed the week after, went surprisingly well. Madison avoided me at all costs, I’d noticed, even though she didn’t stop with the nasty looks. I was amazed she hadn’t said anything to me about my little tirade. Given how much she loved to cause trouble, I was even more shocked that she hadn’t run her mouth off to anyone about what I’d said, considering it had to look exactly like it was—not that she knew that.
I also spent more time with Simon, though said time wasn’t generally as active as it was the day I’d been flat on my back on his desk, and I was pleasantly surprised when he continued to join me briefly in the morning before I had breakfast with Brie. I enjoyed more lunches at the Barsetti’s, and a couple of dinners had been added to my weekly rotation. I noticed that after revealing his vampirism to me, the incubus was less worried about appearing like he was eating.
At the present, we were having—or rather I was having—dinner at my home since my father was out at a gallery showing. I was finishing up the peppers and onions for my steak when I heard his voice coming from the warm living room.
“Cara?
Your mother, what was her specialty?”
“Obstetrics.” I double checked the crock pot before wandering into the room to join my mate next to the mantle above the fireplace. I smiled at the pictures there, mostly of me and my mom. “When she opened her own practice, she designed all the rooms and then she and Dad painted them together. Dad always said that with a little training, she could have been a great artist, too.”
He didn’t say anything, simply stood there while I let my mind wander. “She loved Olive Garden, and my dad and
nonna
couldn’t stand it. Pseudo-Italian is what they constantly called it. Dad kinda gets annoyed any time I suggest or want Olive Garden, but I think he secretly finds it funny. I guess it reminds him of her now—one of those happy, wistful memories, y’know?
“She’d constantly sing to me, and with me, and I always loved it, even if she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.” I laughed. “Oh my God, Simon, she was bad! Honestly, she was tone deaf and her singing voice was horrible, but she was so damn enthusiastic, I couldn’t help but love listening to her.”
I reached up and touched one of the remaining pictures of her. “I was furious with her for a long time. I was angry, because in the end, it was her fault.” My smile was gone as I thought of how I lost her. “A high risk patient went into labor about three weeks too early. They wanted her regular doctor for the delivery, so she rushed to the hospital, but on the way there—”
“A drunk driver?”
“Nope, and part of me thinks I would’ve handled it better if it had been, because then she couldn’t be held accountable.” I shook my head. “She’d been doing over seventy miles an hour on a smaller highway outside of Atlanta, and she was in such a hurry that she ran a red light. There was semi doing about sixty, and it t-boned her. I remember waking up to the sound of my dad putting his fist through a mirror, and the first thing I felt was anger. I was angry, because she should’ve known better than to go that fast, because she should’ve been paying attention. I was angry, because my dad was heartbroken.”
“I am sorry.”
“Don’t be, please.” My lips began to curl ever so slightly. “It took a while, but I’ve accepted it. I still have my moments—holidays, birthdays—but I’m okay. As an adult, especially one who’s into medicine now, I get it. It doesn’t necessarily excuse her, but I get it.”
My smile was full blown now. “Y’know, I think she would’ve liked you a lot. My dad? He’ll probably want to do that thing dads do when they’re trying to be intimidating and threatening, but Mom would have wanted to show you my baby pictures and feed you pie.”
Simon’s lips turned up at the corners. “You know I will respond accordingly. To your father.”
“Oh?”
“La mia,
though I am significantly older than your parents, they are—were—still your parents and deserving of having their worries heard and respected. I have not and cannot have children, but from what I have seen throughout my long existence, I understand mortal parents only want what is best for their children. The only experience they have to compare with is their own, so they often use those experiences as their hopes, guidelines for their own children, and more often than not, I have found, they are right about what is and is not helpful or hurtful to their progeny. There are always, of course, instances where parents are incorrect in their ideas. They are not perfect, but they do love.
“If your father wishes to intimidate me, while I can assure you it will not affect me in the way he hopes, I will still respect his need to protect his child and do everything within my power to assure him of your safety, physically, mentally, and emotionally.”
“Yep. Mom would definitely have liked you.”
“And your father?”
“Dad is… special.” I chuckled at his perplexed look. “No, he’s reasonable, though not always entirely level-headed. He sometimes gets easily upset about things, but then he’ll take time to think about what it is that bothers him. He looks at something from every angle and tries to come to a fair conclusion about whatever it is he’s been pondering. And if he ever is wrong with his original, and sometimes loud, assumptions, he will
always
come back and apologize. He’s always said, and has always taught me, that it’s not wrong to admit you’re wrong.
“My guess is whenever I introduce y’all, he won’t be thrilled, but he’ll try to be logical about it, even if he has a fit at first and brings out his guns to clean.” I turned and reached up to play with his collar. “I guarantee you he won’t be happy you’re a professor, even if you’re not mine, but that’ll probably be his biggest problem. If he can get over that, it shouldn’t be too bad.”
“The age, or the false-age, difference will not be a problem for?”
I shook my head and beamed. “Nope. My father was about seventeen years older than my mom. It’s not quite—what? twenty-one? twenty-two?—but still close enough that he can’t complain.”
He pulled me closer, his arms tightening securely around my waist. “Well, just so you know,
tesoro mio,
he has raised a lovely daughter, and for that alone I cannot wait to meet him.”
I burst out laughing. “I somehow doubt meeting my father is something you’re
really
looking forward to, but congratulations on sounding so sincere.”
“You doubt me, Madame? I am insulted.” He reached up to caress my healed cheek. “Indeed, while I cannot say I am particularly looking forward to your father’s potential disapproval, I can sympathize with his concerns. Were I human, these would most certainly be plausible reasons for him to be mistrusting of me, and given he does not know my status as
uno dei non morti,
one of the undead, I will not begrudge him any trepidation.”
He smiled. “Given who his daughter is and what little you have told me of him, I do not doubt he is a fine man. I can imagine we would get along quite amicably, given he does not loathe me entirely for my association with his only daughter.”
“He won’t hate you,” I chortled. “He won’t
love
you, but he won’t hate you.”
The end of the summer quarter came quickly. Even with the pleasure of Simon’s company, I had pushed myself hard in the amount of classes I had taken and the amount of studying I did for them.
The week of exams was intense for me. Simon, of course, had complete and utter confidence in my abilities, but I was not nearly so convinced. Luckily, he had no problems with using our lunch and dinner dates as cram sessions, and while he helped me with flashcards and practical discussions to simulate possible dialogue questions, he also gave me certain tips and pointers to allow me to remember tidbits of information more efficiently.
Studying with him was much more pleasurable than with the small study group I’d formed. Blake, Ivy, and Vanesia paled as good company when I had Simon to compare them against, but as it was highly likely we would continue to share courses as we completed the program, we’d all made further plans to work together in the future. I was content. Each of them was easy to work with, and neither of them was particularly self-indulgent at the expense of our joint education.
I had hoped to introduce my father and Simon during the scant break between the end of the short summer session and the beginning of the fall classes. Unfortunately, Dad decided to take a commission from an out of town client, but I couldn’t begrudge him the trip. He was getting a stay in a beach-front villa out of the deal, and I knew that the ocean had long been one of the things that recharged his batteries. And if it happened to give me more time to indulge in my relationship with Simon just the way it was, I was happy about that as well. I did want them to meet; I was just unsure of how to bridge the divide between our plain human lives and Simon’s immortal one.
When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see a violet pair staring right back at me. I’d fallen asleep at home, alone, and would have thought that I would wake up the same way. Then it occurred to me that this wasn’t the first time Simon had woken me up, and that I’d even given him a key. I felt myself coloring when he studied me intently. "What are the chances that I will make it to the bathroom to brush my teeth before you stop me?"
"Entirely nonexistent."
I crossed my arms stubbornly. "You do realize that you don't play fair, right?" I gave him a glare when he taunted 'life's not fair' and growled at him, receiving a growl back that had my toes curling and my fingers gripping the bed sheets. I felt my blush spread furiously as my body responded by growing wet with desire, and I knew that he could smell my scent because his eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, his growl lowering in pitch and his eyes glittering black when he opened them again.
He moved the covers and shifted us on the bed so I was lying directly beneath him, and leaned down to claim my lips in a searing kiss. It was loving but possessive. The firm pressure of his mouth plundering mine was undeniable; without words he was reminding me that I was his mate, that I belonged to him and him alone. "
La mia
," he whispered in my ear as he braced himself on one hand, the other trailing over one breast, down my side and under the damp cotton covering my moist heat.
When he slid his fingers inside, I whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, my body twisting in pleasure and frustration as he began to pump in and out of me with excruciating slowness. I heard him whisper '
la mia
' and thought I would come right then and there as the lust I felt skyrocketed. "Simon…" I moaned his name like a prayer. "More… please, Simon. I need more."
He obliged, working my pussy faster and harder while his thumb drew small figure eights around my clit, and lowered his face to my neck, where his mouth latched onto an extremely sensitive area of skin. He licked and sucked firmly before ever-so-lightly grazing my flesh with his teeth, never making even the slightest scratch. "
La mia. Mia sangue
."
"Fuck!" I hissed, my eyes rolling back into my head as he clearly staked his claim on my blood. I thought that I would die of sheer bliss when a loud growl burst from him and his lips reclaimed my pulse as he slipped a third finger into my pussy, stroking in and out of me feverishly. "Oh fuck! Simon… Oh God, Simon. I’m close, so close."
Suddenly, he was whispering in my ear, "I wish I could sink my teeth into that beautiful throat of yours—" I clamped around his thrusting digits at his words— "I want to drink so thoroughly from you as you come for me." My muscles were tightening, straining painfully as my orgasm quickly approached— "Soon,
mi diletta
. Soon, I will have your blood—" I cried out as he tormented me in the most delicious way— "
Deliziarsi per me, mia cocca
! Come for me,
cara
," he purred, his tongue lapping the flesh where my blood has risen to just below the surface of my skin. "Come,
bella mia
."
I shattered in pure ecstasy, my body spasming beneath him as I rode out the waves of pleasure. While my vision did not burst with stars like in stories I had read, sweet God almighty, I felt like I had died and gone to heaven and I did not want to come back!
I was not quite sure how long I had lain with my knees bent and a stupid grin on my face, but when the world came back into focus, I found a pair of glittering eyes watching me with utter triumph and a pair of lips curled into the smuggest smirk that I had ever seen in my life. A part of me wanted to say something to wipe that grin right off his face, but he looked so pleased with himself that I knew I could not deny him that—hell, he had every damn right to be smug! I stretched and smiled up at him. "Do I have to go to school today? I think I could learn a lot more here!"
"
Perdonami, bella mia
," he murmured to me, "but I am afraid you must. At least if you want to pass with such glowing marks as your summer,” he teased me about the fact I had made all As after so much fretting. He gave me a gentle nudge toward the edge of the bed and chuckled when I scowled at him.
"You keep me from some of my basic needs with an Earth-shattering orgasm, and now that your male pride has something to gloat about, you're trying to get rid me," I ribbed back, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "You do realize that type of behavior is incredibly rude, right?" I stuck my tongue out at him before bouncing off the bed as his laughter filled the room and strutted into the bathroom to begin my morning routine.