Free Evading (Regent Vampire Lords Book 4) by K.L. Kreig

piece of you. No matter what happened in your past that doesn’t change. You got it?”
    “Get off me.” She fought, but it was halfhearted at best. Still, he held steadfast, knowing she was bluffing. Knowing she just needed a little more coaxing. More time. More convincing. Just more.
    Stepping into her, he pinned her body between his and the house. “No. Not this time.”
    She let her eyes and voice harden, but stopped her fruitless struggle. “You’re a fucking asshole. Anyone ever tell you that?”
    The corner of his mouth kicked up which made hers tug. “Maybe once or twice. But I’m your fucking asshole.”
    “You’re not mine.”
    When his nose dipped and ran erotically down her cheek and up her jawline, her pussy wept in anticipation. The orgasm back at the bar wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. It was a taste. An appetizer of pleasure she’d lived without her entire life. Now she wanted the whole damn smorgasbord, including a big ol’ slice of dessert.
    In that moment, an epiphany hit her hard and fast.
    She’d visited hell every time a male violated her. She’d thought pieces of her remained there, scattered forevermore. She couldn’t be more wrong. Over these past few months, Mike Thatcher had picked through the thousand broken shards of lost dreams and unending hopelessness and put her back together, excruciating piece by excruciating piece. The edges didn’t line up perfectly yet, but he subtly shifted around the slivers so they would eventually.
    All this time, he’d been fixing her and she hadn’t realized it.
    “I’m yours whether you want me or not, baby. I’ll be yours ’til the day I die and no one else’s. Not ever.” His whispers rained over her like healing mist, each one washing away more remnants of shame. “Tell me I’m yours, Giselle. Fuck, I need to hear it so damn bad.”
    His eyes desperately searched hers. As she was vampire, she had him beat in sheer physicality, but he was far and above a soldier in all other respects. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally.
    He was strength enough for them both. She knew that now. Able to carry her when she couldn’t carry herself. She needed to let him. It didn’t make her pathetic or vulnerable. It didn’t make her powerless. It made her power ful . It meant her past didn’t win.
    Their souls aligned. Fit perfectly. His darkness matched hers, but his goodness brought warmth and radiant light she’d never experienced before. He was the anchor when she floated. He was the solace when she freaked. He was hope illuminating the bleakest parts of her soul.
    “You’re mine,” she whispered so softly she didn’t think he’d hear.
    His lids dropped in what she could only say was sheer relief, but when they opened, he was all fire and lust. “Say, I want you, Mike. Say my name when you tell me that. You never fucking say my name and I want to hear it.”
    Vibrations of fear and anticipation skittered across her skin when she uttered words she’d never uttered before to a male. “I want you, Mike.”
    “Giselle.” He dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “I want inside you so fucking bad.”
    “I’m…”
    Her anxiety swung heavy between them, but he knew.
    He knew.
    “I know, baby. It’s okay. Let me take care of you. I want to drown them, Giselle. Your ghosts, your demons, your memories, your fears, so you know nothing but my touch. My scent. My voice. My safety. My love. Me. No one else. Let me obliterate each and every last beast that’s holding that beautiful mind captive.”
    “Mike…” She wanted everything he just promised. The tang of his vow made her taste buds water in hope, but fear—that sadistic fucker—left its bitter and fiery hint behind.
    “Trust. Me,” Mike demanded between kisses that were becoming more urgent. “You are safe with me, Giselle. I won’t hurt you. You. Are. Safe.”
    When his eyes connected with hers again, she swallowed hard.
    Who wins?
    Past or future?
    Us or