first saw me when I was a child in the darkened hallway in our house, how he felt that night at the diner when we first met, how he followed me to the crime scene, to everything afterwards when he and I were together in Boston, then the moment he saw me on the beach, the image of me standing there making him fall to his knees, overcome, covering his eyes. His memories and his emotions speak more loudly than any words ever could and in that moment, I know he loved me – he loves me.
He pulls me against him so close, I can feel his erection pressing into my belly. And there’s nothing I can do to resist him. So I don’t.
I don’t even try.
When he feels me give in, he pulls back from the kiss and exhales heavily, his forehead against mine. He drops his arms and stands there not touching me, just looking in my eyes.
Then, he offers his hand to me and I look at it and I know what he's doing. He's giving me a chance to choose. I hesitate. There's no doubt that I'm aroused by his touch. I know he loves me from our shared memories. He needs me in an almost desperate way.
I take his hand.
He exhales heavily and for a moment just squeezes my hand in his. He pulls me over to the bed, sitting on it, his wings folding up. He guides me between his thighs and embraces me, his arms around me, his lips pressing against my neck.
We remain like this for long moments. His tongue is wet against my throat where Michel bit me – where he bit me so long ago – and it sends another shock of lust through me so that I can’t help but gasp.
He lies back, pulling me on top of him so that I’m resting on my elbows, my face above his. He brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ear and I stare into his eyes. He’s so beautiful, I can barely stand it.
Then I lean down and kiss him, his mouth opening against mine, his arms squeezing me more tightly, his emotions surging through me as we connect again, and whatever my mind thinks about what I’m doing, my body doesn’t care any longer. I don’t care any longer. I only know that this feels as if it could finally fill the void in my body, in my heart, that’s been there for the past two months since I woke up.
Perhaps my entire life.
He rolls over on top of me, and undresses me, taking off each piece of my clothing, deliberately, until I lie naked beneath him. Slowly, he kisses every part of me, starting with my hands and wrists, my elbows and my neck before moving to my shoulders and down to my breasts. He lingers over my belly, kissing it and my hips before moving lower, spreading my thighs gently, running his lips down my leg from my foot to my calf and then my inner thigh, before repeating it on my other leg.
By the time he reaches my sex, I’m dizzy with lust, my flesh aching, throbbing and I groan when his tongue touches me. He slips fingers inside of me, stroking me, and I come right away, the pleasure so intense, the sweetness spreading down my legs and deep in my belly, my body convulsing around his fingers. Before I can even come down from the orgasm, he’s inside of me, filling me completely, kissing me as he's thrusting fast and hard. His connection with me increases and I feel his pleasure, feel the delicious sensation of him sliding so slick and snug inside of my body as another orgasm slowly builds.
Then he bites my neck, the pain is brief and bright, and I come again, all my senses overwhelmed and it's just too much to bear.
CHAPTER SIX
"To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead."
Bertrand Russell
I wake in the night, my body starting to feel the effects of my blood addiction. Julien isn’t with me and I get up and tiptoe to the bathroom, where I find a large towel, using it to cover my nakedness.
I go out into the main reception room and he’s standing at the window, naked, talking into his cell. He hears me, of course, and turns, the phone at his ear. He waves to me and I join