You Okay Now?

Delilah

 

I opened my eyes and saw the light shining on Abel sitting back in his armchair, his eyes on me just like the morning before.

“Hey,” I called sleepily.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone strangely tight.

“You okay?” I asked, not moving, my head to the pillow, my eyes taking in his big frame, memories of the day before instantly available.

He’d been tensed and freaked, understandably so. Though, why he had to take off, I didn’t know.

That said, when Xun brought me back down to his room late yesterday evening, I was touched to see the simple white shower curtain covering the stall and a door providing privacy for the toilet. It said a lot, like the purse. Primarily that he might be gone, but his thoughts were on me.

It was what I’d needed.

Perhaps not weirdly, but annoyingly, the longer he was gone and I didn’t know where he was or how he was, the more that pit in my belly opened up again. And it opened, and opened, and opened. Then the pain came back.

In the end, it was so bad, I didn’t know how I got to sleep. You would think I’d be used to it, but it being gone, then having it back again, it all seemed fresh.

And excruciating.

I just knew that when Abel touched my hair and told me he was home, I wasn’t very awake, but I felt the pain was gone.

That was not something I relished, needing to be attached at the hip to some guy, and I hoped it was the situation that caused it, not his distance.

“Fine,” Abel answered, taking my thoughts from yesterday-him back to the right-there him.

“Sure?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, Lilah,” he answered quietly.

“Thanks for the bathroom,” I said.

He shook his head and his lips tipped up, but he didn’t say anything or move any further.

“Dad called,” I told him. “He and the boys are making good time, but they won’t be here until around two today.”

“You tell Jian-Li?” he asked.

I nodded my head on the pillow.

“She’ll see to a welcome spread.”

“She says she’s closing the restaurant after lunch,” I shared.

“Like I said, she’ll see to a welcome spread.”

I grinned at him.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and he frowned at me.

That was weird.

Then again, he seemed weird. Not that he was a normal guy, just that he seemed weirder than normal.

I pushed up to put my head in my hand, elbow in the pillow. “You sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

Oh man.

“What?” I asked. “Did you find something yesterday?”

“Nothin’ happened yesterday, Lilah.”

Well, at least that was good.

Still, I studied him, stretched out in his chair, ankles crossed, hands sitting loosely on his thick thighs, neck supported by the back of the chair, but head up, eyes on me.

There was something that wasn’t right about that, a casualness that seemed false, and I didn’t like it.

“Why are you not okay?” I asked.

“I lied yesterday.”

Great.

I did not like this.

Lying sucked. I didn’t do it. Dad taught me not to, and the lesson I’d had meant I’d only done it once, mostly because when he’d caught me in the lie I told (a lie I didn’t remember, just his reaction to it), he was disappointed in me and that killed.

I could count on three fingers the times he’d been disappointed in me.

The first was when I’d dated a preppy who drove his parents’ hand-me-down Mercedes. His family had a stable of thoroughbred horses, a huge house, and he wore pastel-colored sweaters draped over his shoulders (we’d only gone out five times, but that was five times too many for Dad).

The second was when I’d told him in a moment of weakness that I thought maybe Mom was right and I was whacked in the head.

And last, when I’d lied.

I’d never done it again. As far as I knew, Dad never did it with me either. He might not tell me everything, but that wasn’t the same as lying to someone’s face.

And if I made a list of what I’d want in a man, that would be in the necessary column.

Well, at least Abel was owning up to it. That was something.

“What did you lie about?” I asked, pushing up to sit cross-legged in the bed, the covers over my lap.

But when I did this, his body visibly tensed, his eyes dropped to my lap, and his jaw went hard.

I stared.

What was that?

“Abel?”

He sliced his eyes to mine and I saw a muscle jump in his cheek before he said, “That card the vampires gave me, it said something.”

“I reckoned that,” I replied.

He nodded once and continued, “It said they mean you and me no harm and invited me to The Biltmore.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered, not taking this as a good thing.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Are you going?” I asked.

“I’m considering it.”

My eyes got huge and my voice was two octaves higher when I cried, “Why?”

I did this because I knew one good supernatural being: Abel. The rest left a lot to be desired, considering they wanted us both dead. Therefore, I didn’t want to have anything to do with them.

It was more, though. I didn’t want Abel to have anything to do with them. He was strong, he had backup, but there were only so many times you could be outnumbered and come out the victor.

He drew in a breath and sat forward, putting his elbows on his knees but keeping hold of my eyes, just like he did the morning before.

Then, with no warning, he commenced in breaking my heart.

“I’m a monster, Lilah.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I’m a werewolf vampire. I exist on human blood. I can tear a man’s head off and I have. I’m a monster.”

“You—”

“I am,” he stated flatly. “And the first chance I’ve had in all my years to understand why I am as I am is to go to that fuckin’ hotel.”

I stared at him, then straightened my body so I was fully facing him. This caused his jaw to get hard again, but I ignored that and stated, “Okay, let’s break this down.”

“Nothin’ to break down.”

“Humor me,” I snapped, his head jerked, and his lips curved up.

“Carry on,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” I bit out. “First, how many men’s heads have you torn off?”

“Four, and two wolves.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“These being the night we met,” I stated.

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“The night some of them were trying to kill me and the others were trying to kill you.”

To that he said nothing.

I kept going, “So you haven’t torn off unsuspecting citizens’ heads willy-nilly, for the fuck of it, or on a psychotic rampage?”

He pressed his lips together and I knew it was to hide his humor because his eyes lit with it before he unpressed them to say, “No.”

“Right,” I said sharply. “Have you ever had a psychotic rampage?”

He shook his head.

“So let’s get to the human blood part,” I suggested. “When you were,” I paused, “drawing from one of your ex-bitches, did you ever kill one of them?”

“Fuck no.”

“Take too much and make them sick?”

“No.”

“Do it against anyone’s will?”

His eyes went guarded, but he said, “No.”

I threw up a hand. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

He blinked, straightening in his chair, but again said nothing.

“I mean, seriously,” I went on, “I’ve seen lots of vampire movies and TV shows and even the good vamps screw up and overindulge. Hell, Jessica killed three fairies in a ravenous attack. She might have had her issues as a young vampire, but by that time, she was full-on good.”

His brows shot together. “Fairies?”

“Fairies.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I threw up both hands and cried in exasperation, “True Blood!”

“Jesus, Lilah,” he muttered.

“No, seriously, Jessica is very sweet.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he growled, sounding like he was losing patience, which I didn’t figure was a good thing.

“Okay, back on track,” I began. “Tell me. Tell me one instance in your life where you actually behaved like a monster.”

“I wanna fuck you,” he snarled.

I stared.

“Yeah,” he ground out. “I wanna fuck you, Delilah. Consumed with the need and I have no idea why, but I can guess, seein’ as it’s like you’re a bitch in heat, I’m a dog that catches the scent and his mind is wiped…wiped of anything…but the need to mount you and”—he leaned forward—“rut.”

“Holy fuck,” I breathed.

“Yeah,” he said again. “That make you feel safe?”

“Abel—”

“I can smell your fear.”

I swallowed.

“It turns me on,” he kept going. “Makes me wanna tear into your throat and fuck you and feed from you. Now, does that make you feel safe?”

“No,” I whispered, because it really fucking didn’t.

“Right. No,” he bit off. “So I’m not a monster?”

“It’s…it’s…” I stammered.

“Yeah? What is it?” he asked when I couldn’t get it out.

“It’s you,” I said softly, because it was, even if it was scary as shit.

“You’re absolutely correct,” he clipped, then said with disgust, “It’s me.”

Then it hit me.

“You left yesterday because of that.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “I did, because if I spent another minute with you, I’d have you on your knees, takin’ my dick, you wanted it or not.”

“Abel,” I breathed, suddenly understanding, and my heart started bleeding.

Yes, he was protective of me, overprotective, wanting me to feel safe, struggling against his nature to keep me that way.

“Your heart’s beating so hard, it sounds like it’s about to tear out of your chest. I did that to you. And I’m not a monster?”

“My heart is beating hard because I’m feeling a lot right now, and not all of it is fear, Abel,” I told him.

“Then you aren’t very smart because, even as I sit here, all I can think of is burying my cock inside you.”

Oh shit.

Now I was getting turned on.

“Do you think other werewolves…do you think that they…?” I trailed off, but he got me.

“You’re not a werewolf. Maybe there are female ones who get the way it is, but you are not one of them.”

“But I’m yours,” I pointed out.

“You ever transform into a wolf?”

I shook my head, giving him the answer he already knew.

“No,” he said. “So how do I deal with this, Delilah? It’s my nature, the monster in me for the only time in my life since I was a kid controlling me. I don’t understand it and I don’t know how to fight it except to keep away from you. Or go to The Biltmore and talk to these fucks and hope they aren’t what I think they are and can give me some answers as to how I can deal and keep you safe.”

“What if they’re not nice vampires?”

“I got two choices…give into the urge and rape the woman destined for me or go to The Biltmore and find out.”

“Or you could just fuck me,” I blurted, and the room went wired.

Shit.

“Do not,” he said simply, but both words were harsh and grating, hurting my ears.

Man, oh man, he needed to fuck me.

“You go and you get hurt or dead and Jian-Li loses you, Xun, Chen, Wei.” Me, I thought but didn’t say. “That’s better than us having sex?”

“Rutting, Delilah.”

I felt a rush of wet saturate the area between my legs.

God, again, strange, but that also turned me on.

“Okay, rutting,” I whispered.

“I could hurt you,” he stated.

“Try not to do that,” I replied.

“What if I can’t control it?” he asked.

“I…I don’t know,” I answered.

“And you’re still willin’ to take that chance?”

I widened my eyes at him but said nothing.

“I can smell you,” he whispered.

Fuck.

“Abel.”

“You want it.”

“Um…” I started and stopped, finding that fact titillating, so much so, more wet hit between my legs.

“You cannot know, you’ll never know, but I don’t think you get what hanging on by a thread means, Delilah. I’m doin’ that right now. And right now, you say one word, ‘go,’ and you won’t see me again until I got it together. You don’t say that word right now, it happens.”

I should say “go.”

I should.

But something deep in my heart knew I actually shouldn’t.

So I didn’t.

I stared at him, heart slamming in my chest, and said nothing.

“Fuck,” he snarled, surging from his chair, and in a flash, he was on me.

In another flash, I was whipped around, knees in the bed, nightshirt torn over my head, palm in my back, shoving me to my hands in the bed.

Oh God.

Then my hips jerked violently as he tore my panties away.

I bit my lip to bite back a moan because that was so…damned…hot.

Then he drove inside, filling me. Oh man, oh God, I was so fucking full. There was pain from stretching to accommodate him, but mostly it was pleasure since he was huge.

My head shot back and there was no holding back the deep moan that tore from my lips.

He rounded over me, hand in the bed, as his hips slammed into mine and I took the savage thrusts of his mammoth cock, fucking…loving…every…fucking…one.

“Abel,” I whimpered.

“Tell me you can take it,” he grunted, his hand not in the bed moving to my hair, gathering it in a fist at the back of my neck.

I arched my back, tipping my hips up, and got more.

It was phenomenal.

“Yes,” I breathed. “I can so take it.”

“Fuck, fuck, thank fuck,” he groaned, twisting my hair, pulling my head back.

Phenomenal.

“Baby,” I whispered, sliding my knees out, giving him better access.

“Jesus,” he gritted, yanking my hair back hard enough I came off my hands and felt my pussy clutch at his cock that felt so fucking good.

He caught me around the chest, pulling me to him, still driving up inside. His hand shifted to my breast, cupping it; his other hand went between my legs, finger at my clit, pulsing, tight, hard, rough.

Holy fuck.

“Yes, Abel, don’t stop,” I urged.

His mouth went to my neck.

“Drink,” I rasped.

“Lilah, bao bei,” he whispered into my neck, still pounding inside.

“Take it all from me,” I encouraged, lifting a hand to cover his where he held me at my breast, stretching my other arm out and behind me so I could clench my fingers into his ass, feeling the power of it flex as he pounded inside.

His hand at my breast squeezed hard. I arched my back again, driving my ass into his hips, and his finger at my clit pressed in harder as he groaned, “Fuck yes.”

Then I felt his tongue at my neck, and again. Oh God, nice.

“God, your fuckin’ pussy,” he growled into my neck. “Ecstasy,” he finished and licked my neck again, slamming his cock up and grinding inside.

My head fell back and hit his shoulder as his finger at my clit, thumb and finger now tugging hard at my nipple, cock grinding inside—all of it swept over me, fearful in its power, ready to engulf me, annihilate me. My body tensed, not to welcome it but to fight it off, because suddenly, it was terrifying.

“Abel,” I gasped, gripping his wrists.

I didn’t feel his teeth sink into my flesh, but I felt the blood gush.

And when I did, my orgasm came over me, my body bucking in his hold as he started moving again, my blood pumping and flooding his mouth with each thrust, the climax blistering through me on each drive, wave after wave of sheer heat. My mouth opened and a silent cry of rapture floated out, sweeping me away as I clasped him fast and deep inside me.

Still orgasming, I felt the blood stop flowing and his lips at my ear where he whispered, “Need you to take me on your hands and knees, pussycat.”

He bent me forward. I put my hands out and settled into them as he continued to slam inside and my climax slowly drifted away from me.

I felt his hands at my hips slide up to my ribs to hold me steady as he kept driving deep, faster, rougher, oh God, so good.

“This what you need, baby?” I asked, my words hitching with his thrusts.

“Yeah,” he grunted, one hand remaining at my ribs while his other moved up to curl around my shoulder, yanking me back as he pounded into me.

“Take it, honey,” I purred.

“Fuck, Lilah.”

Faster. Rougher.

Oh yeah.

“Take it,” I urged.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

His hand at my shoulder moved to grasp my hair. He tugged back. I let him, squeezing him tight inside me. He bucked, thrusting, groaning, his fingers digging into my ribs as he came hard, long, and violently inside me, jarring my body, laying claim to me.

I was a biker bitch. I was a biker’s daughter. I’d grown up with pretty much anything goes with my father (though, he wasn’t a loser, when I was younger, he shielded me from anything that might freak me, it was just that when I got older, that “anything” became a shorter list).

But I was not easy.

I’d once had a one-night stand and didn’t much like how it made me feel, mostly because I hadn’t actually thought it was a one-night stand until the guy left my bed with one word: “Gratitude.” Then he left and didn’t ask for my number.

I thought that made him a serious dick and it didn’t feel great that I’d chosen to let him into my bed.

But it was safe to say, at that moment, Abel still buried deep, his hand gripping my hair, I had no remorse.

None.

Not even a little bit.

I was spent because I came harder than I had in my whole life. So I pulled at my hair to communicate I needed him to let me go so I could drop to my forearms.

His grip didn’t lighten even as his voice was gruff but gentle when he said, “Need you up, baby.”

“Okay.”

“Bear with me,” he murmured.

“Okay, honey.”

“Fuck. Sweet,” he whispered, then slid out.

The loss of his massive cock was like losing a part of me, a part I needed, and so I whimpered.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Sweet.”

I stayed up on my hands even when he untangled his fingers from my hair.

Then I felt his hand between my legs. I was dripping—with him, with me—but not for long.

This was because he coated me with us, down the insides of my thighs, over my ass, between its cleft, up over my sex, to my belly, up, up, deep up, to between my breasts, his chest against my ass to give his long arm access.

I stayed on my hands and knees, thinking this was not weird, and not because there were men who got off on this kind of shit.

No, because the slow, sweet, gentle, reverential way Abel was doing it meant it was meaningful, meant it was profound, meant it was important in a way I didn’t get, maybe he didn’t get, but we felt it all the same.

Both of us.

His lips at the small of my back, he murmured, “Thank you, bao bei.”

I had no idea what bao bei meant, I just knew it sounded very sweet.

“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.

Then I was not on my hands and knees but on my back, head to the pillows, Abel on me between my legs, yanking the covers up over us.

He was naked, which surprised me, but I guess with inhuman speed that meant a man could undress in the blink of an eye.

Good to know.

I focused on his face just as he finished with the covers and his hand came to the side of mine, middle finger trailing my hairline, his eyes watching it.

“You okay now?” I asked, then stilled completely, even my heart and breath, when his two-colored eyes looked into mine.

And I didn’t still because I saw in the light blue one dark brown spikes gliding out from the iris, obliterating the blue, making them both a rich, warm chocolate, and that was weird and wonderful.

No, I did it because everything was in his eyes. The answer to the meaning of life. The truth about whether or not love was real (it was, very much so). Inalienable proof that nothing was more important than family. The knowledge that he would die for me. The understanding that he would kill for me (though, I already knew that).

Everything.

Before, I’d thought his eyes were enthralling.

Looking at them right then, I knew I could lose myself in them.

For eternity.

“Yeah, Lilah, I’m okay now,” he whispered.

Oh man.

“Though, I’m gonna take this opportunity to be a lot more okay, doing it repeatedly from now until about two o’clock this afternoon,” he went on.

I stopped being moved by what I saw in his eyes when they lit with humor.

I smiled before muttering “Give a werewolf vampire an inch, he takes a mile.”

He grinned at me, and if he hadn’t showed all his cards two seconds before, making what I gave him worth it (beyond the amazing orgasm he gave me), that would have done it.

His hand slid down to my neck and I sensed it moving there, but I didn’t feel it.

“This okay?” he asked.

Shit, I forgot he fed from me.

But I didn’t forget it was awesome.

“Yeah, do I…I mean, am I bleeding?”

He looked from my neck to me. “No, Lilah. Your wounds are already closed. By the time your dad gets here, they’ll be gone.”

I blinked. “What?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Something else I can do. Odd, but useful.”

“Whoa,” I breathed, then I felt my eyes get big and I cried, “How cool!”

He looked into my eyes for some time, seeming strangely surprised and somewhat puzzled, before he replied in a way it sounded like he didn’t quite mean his words, “Yeah. Cool.”

I decided not to get into his reaction and instead noted, “Your eyes have both turned brown.”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“What is that?” I asked.

He dipped close and slid his temple along mine like he did when he’d first found me, like he did to Jian-Li the day before.

My belly melted and he whispered in my ear, “Magic.”

He was full of it, but still, his answer was sweet so I let him have it.

He lifted away and was drawing random patterns on my neck that I could (unfortunately) only vaguely feel, seeming lost in thought, his eyes drifting from my neck to my lips, my jaw, my hair, so I took that opportunity to lift my hand in order to start tracing the wicked, but hot, scar on his face.

Before I even touched him, he jerked his head back and focused on me, his fingers at my neck stopping, and the moment was broken.

“Sorry,” I murmured, feeling like an idiot, looking to his shoulder and dropping my hand.

“Happened a long time ago, Lilah,” he said gently. “And still do not like shit near my face.”

That made sense.

I still felt bereft. Like we’d shared something, come to an understanding, moved to a different level, and he’d taken it all away.

Suddenly I wanted him off me and I wanted to shower. Get some food. Go upstairs and be with Jian-Li and the boys, just so they could act as a buffer.

“I don’t scar.”

My gaze slid to his face when he said this.

“What?”

He dipped closer and his voice dipped lower. “I don’t scar, pussycat.”

“Okay,” I whispered, knowing what pussycat meant and liking that he called me that.

“Don’t scar, heal fast,” he carried on. “Was out at a bar.” He got even closer, putting his nose alongside mine, his eyes staring into mine. “To find a meal,” he said super-quiet.

I rolled my eyes, and when I rolled them back, his were grinning and he pulled a bit away.

“And some bitch roofied me.”

I stared.

He read my stare and said, “Yeah. Totally freaked me. Drugs don’t do shit for me, not that I need them. Don’t get headaches, muscle pain, colds, shit like that. But I haven’t lived a choirboy’s life. Tried some shit. Did nothin’ for me. Whatever she gave me fucked me up.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Felt it,” he went on. “Stumbled outta the place. In the parking lot, she was on me. Took me to my back.” He shook his head, his expression turning preoccupied. “Saw her straddling me, the crazy-as-fuck look in her eyes, the weird-ass knife she had. Also saw and felt her carve into me. Couldn’t move. Was totally at her mercy.”

His jaw clenched as my stomach did.

“Abel,” I forced out, and he came back to me.

“Last thing I knew, she was raising it over her head. Thought she was gonna embed it in my heart.”

“She didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Have no clue. I passed out.”

My brows drew together. “Wouldn’t you know?”

“Heal fast, Lilah. By the time I came to, was still lying close to that parking lot, but someone had dragged me into some grass away from the lot, the cars, the lights. Felt a sting in my face but knew it was healing. Felt nothing else. Got myself home, confused as fuck. I healed, but it left a scar. Had my share of dings and dents, nothin’. But whatever she used on me fucked me up.”

“That’s insane.”

“It…” he started, but stopped and I felt every inch of his big body stringing tight.

But he said no more.

“Abel?”

He blinked and looked down at me. “It happened a week after Ming died.”

“Ming?”

“Jian-Li’s husband. We were in Dallas. He was stabbed during a mugging. They took his wallet. A week later, that shit happened to me and it was too much for Jian-Li. We moved. The boys were young so we were all gone in a day.”

“Okay,” I started hesitantly, “but you just had a moment.”

He nodded. “Bad luck can come at any time. It doesn’t discriminate. But Ming gets dead and some bitch at a bar knows how to roofie a werewolf vampire and uses a blade on him that scars, never thought about it. She did not smell like me. She was human. I just thought she was a cunt. But now…” he trailed off.

“Holy shitoly,” I whispered, understanding what he was saying to me.

“She sunk that blade in me, I’d be gone.”

I slid my arms around him and held tight. “Baby.”

He looked over my head, muttering, “Why would they go after Ming?”

“Are you sure they did?”

He looked back at me. “Could be a coincidence. But I’m having some issues with coincidences, waiting for you for what feels like an eternity and then running into werewolves and vampires for the first time in my life when you hit town.”

“So you think, for whatever reason they want us gone, someone tried back then?”

“That’s what I think,” he confirmed.

Marvelous.

“Why do you think she didn’t do it?” I asked.

“Right now, I don’t think she didn’t do it. Right now, I’m thinking that someone stopped her from doing it. She took me down because she drugged me. But she was petite and slim. No way she could drag my ass thirty yards when I was dead weight. That said, the bar I was in was rough. I’m a werewolf vampire, but I’m a biker. That’s the kind of place I hang. Could have been someone walked out, saw her, stopped her, dragged me to safety, but didn’t want to get involved by phoning the police, or maybe they didn’t want to bring trouble to the bar by doing it or having me found in the lot.”

“I’m not liking this, Abel,” I informed him.

“Not likin’ it much either, Delilah, because I can’t die. But with what it did to my face, I know that knife would have been the end of me.”

My head jerked on the pillow. “You can’t die?”

His eyes gentled as they looked into mine. “Bao bei, I’m a werewolf vampire. I’m immortal. Don’t know for certain, but do know since Jian-Li’s great-great-great-grandmother found me, I’ve lived two hundred years.”

Was he serious?

“What?” I cried.

His head tipped to the side. “Thought I made that clear.”

“You…did…not,” I retorted.

“Delilah, I told you I waited three lifetimes for you, and that’s only three because I was at one point a little kid, even being what I am, so I didn’t know I had a hankering for green-eyed temptress, biker bitch pussy for a coupla lifetimes.”

I ignored the biker bitch pussy part and snapped, “I didn’t know you meant literally.”

“Well, I did.”

“That’s also insane,” I hissed.

“Any less insane than anything else you’ve learned the last coupla of days?” he shot back.

I clamped my mouth shut.

He grinned.

I unclamped my mouth. “Don’t you grin at me, Abel. Remember that thread I was hanging by?”

He kept grinning as he answered. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re supposed to keep it strong, not unravel it.”

He dipped his face closer again and asked, “How do I keep it strong?”

I bucked up against his body in an annoyed way and answered, “I don’t know. You’re supposed to figure that out.”

“Thinkin’ I’m done drawing from you, I won’t numb you with my mouth.”

My head tilted sharply on the pillow again. “What?”

He didn’t answer.

He slanted his head the other way and kissed me.

Our first kiss.

It had tongues. It was slow. It was long. It was sweet. It was gentle. Then it wasn’t. Then it was rough and consuming and fucking unbelievable to the point that when he broke his mouth from mine, I was panting and clutching him to me with arms and legs.

“You okay now?” he asked, and at my words coming back to me like that, my stomach dipped.

“Better,” I said snippily, but that was all for show and he knew it, since it was also breathy.

He gave me another grin.

Then he gave me another kiss.

While doing it, he rolled so I was on top.

That was when I started kissing him.

And I felt better.

Then I broke the kiss and looked down into his wild and beautiful eyes, more so right then because I could see they were lazy but turned on, the blue had partially seeped back, but the brown was again suffusing it.

And I went about making him feel better.

“I want this, whatever it is you’re about to do to me, and I’ve spent twenty-nine years getting to know me, so I know I wouldn’t give what I gave earlier and what I’m about to give to a monster. Monsters don’t inspire loyalty like you’ve inspired in your family. And monsters don’t think twice about giving into whatever urges they’re feeling, even if it hurts somebody.”

The look in his eyes changed, went gentle but intense, the blue totally gone.

However I wasn’t done.

I curled my fingers around the side of his neck. “And it breaks my heart you’ve spent two hundred years getting to know yourself and all you’ve come up with is that you’re a monster. You aren’t, Abel. I’ve known you less than two days and I know that for certain. It might take twenty-nine more years of my life to convince you of it, but if this is what I think it is, I’ll have that time and you have my vow I’ll bust my ass to try.”

When I was done with my speech, he lifted his hand to my neck, curled his fingers around and up into my hair, and he rolled me again. His eyes were no longer gentle but totally intense.

He didn’t say anything.

He kissed me, not gentle or slow, all rough and consuming.

He continued to say nothing as he took my mouth, his hands moving on me, and it began again. Not the same as before. He was slow and gentle, taking his time, building it, his hands eventually getting the addition of his lips and tongue gliding on my neck, tracing a path to my nipple, then the other, down to my belly, only for his tongue to slide across the top of the triangle of hair between my legs and head back north.

All the time his hands still moved on me, heightening the sensations, so by the time he made it back to my mouth, I was ready for his cock.

This was good because he gave it to me, sliding in slowly, his eyes to mine, his face close, his breaths coming fast, mingling with my own.

He was halfway in when he dipped and kissed me. Angling his body to the side, one forearm in the bed so he could hitch his knee for leverage, he rammed the rest of the way inside and I whimpered against his tongue.

He commenced thrusting, deep and sweet, as he kissed me, his other hand smoothing down my neck, between my breasts, to my belly.

Still taking me, he lifted his head.

I opened my eyes, looked into his, and the instant I did, he asked, “Delilah, are you mine?”

I slid a hand up his chest and curled it around his neck, using it to pull my torso up to press against his. My lips to his, I whispered what I knew was utterly crazy, but I also knew to the depths of my heart was undeniably true.

“Yes, Abel, I’m yours.”

His fierce, feral growl vibrated against my lips, along my skin, exploding between my legs as he drove a hand into my hair, shifted to covering me, knee still hitched, and he quit deep and sweet and started fucking me rough and wild.

I gasped against his tongue before I tangled mine with his.

Not long later, I whimpered my orgasm into his mouth.

Not long after that, Abel growled his against the skin of my neck.

And he kept us connected as we drifted out of our climaxes, his face in my neck, my body cushioning his, my limbs holding him tight to me.

And as everything that was him, everything that we’d done, everything that we were becoming began to settle inside me, I decided having a guy who was hyper-intense, ridiculously overprotective, and phenomenal in bed were all super-fucking-good things.