Tucker could no more deny her request than he could turn himself back into a human.
Now that he’d sampled her unbelievable flavor, he couldn’t survive without it.
“I’ll never drink from anyone else,” he rasped, kissing her hard, pulling back just enough to keep their lips meshed. The truth burned in his throat. Having a secret standing between him and his mate was unacceptable, made him feel volatile and raw. Enough that he almost told her that he would literally die without her to nourish him. But he managed to stop just short of a full confession, taking the frustration it caused out on her body. “You are the first and last. The only one I’ll ever want or need or lust for. You’re mine, Mary. No matter what, you are mine.”
“Yes.”
He flattened Mary against the wall of the basement, buried himself balls deep and slid his teeth into the most succulent part of her neck, her moan of satisfaction and the rippling jolt between her thighs almost pushing him over the edge. His mouth flooded with a flavor so beloved, warm moisture pressed in behind his eyes. He closed them and drank deeply, slapping her ass off the wall with every grunting spike of his hips, until she grabbed a fistful of his hair and started to tremble, dampness spreading like wildfire where their bodies met.
Tucker followed her in an uproar of lust, the pyre climbing so high, he thought it must be real. That everything was up in flames around them. His loins squeezed so roughly that he was forced to retract his fangs and grit his teeth through the perfect agony, pumping, pumping, Mary’s hand clapped over her own mouth to keep herself quiet, though her body wasn’t. It clamored around him in a second climax, brought on by the prolonged length of his own.
Minutes, maybe eternities passed before Tucker dragged her off the wall into a bear hug, determined to include every inch of her skin in his embrace, his mouth leaving kisses on her hairline, cheeks and temple. “Mary,” he choked out. “Mary.”
She looked up at him with so much emotion on her beautiful face, the punch of it forced him to lean back against the wall. “I’m staying with you,” she whispered. “You’re keeping me and I’m keeping you, okay? I came down here to tell you that. I’d decided.”
Tucker made a ragged sound, positive the heart she’d only just resuscitated was already going to meet its doom thanks to the way it filled and filled, to the bursting point. Could he let her do this? Could he ask it of her? To give up so much?
No. No way. He would worry she regretted it every day for the rest of his life.
Her lips trembled. “If you try and talk me out of my decision, you will rip my heart out, Tucker. Do you understand me?”
The blood is his veins dropped several degrees. Rip her heart out?
Unfathomable. He’d tear the one from his chest without question if it would benefit Mary in any way, but her heart? Precious beyond even his own understanding.
“Yes,” he pushed past stiff lips.
Relief visibly coursed through Mary, her body turning limp in his arms. With a cry of happiness, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. “Let’s go drive your Impala.”
He blew an unnecessary and inaudible breath up at the ceiling, no idea what to do. How to do what was best for his mate. The unknown, the possibility of failing her was torturous. “Honey, you lost.”
“No,” she explained with a smile in her voice. “I was the last to take a turn before it fell. I won.”
Tucker turned his head and inhaled her scent, allowing it to calm him for now. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
“We were playing with immortal rules.”
“Is that right?” He chuckled. “That’s so creative, I’m going to let you get away with it.”
“Thank you,” she said primly, allowing Tucker to set her down and fix her clothing, as well as his own. A minute later, they stepped into the kitchen hand in hand to find Carl staring at his flickering light bulbs and shattered drinking glasses in consternation.
“Whoops,” Tucker and Mary whispered to each other.
Chapter 19
“When you’re ready, move the gear shift down. The fourth click will be drive.”
Tucker settled his hand over Mary’s, sending a flurry of tingles all the way to her shoulder. It was after sunset and Tucker was making good on his promise to let her drive the Impala, even if the official winner of their wager was debatable. Carl was in the backseat, chuckling good-naturedly every so often as Tucker explained the mechanics of his beloved car.
The warm buzz of happiness among the three of them made it impossible to keep the smile off of her face. She had some recollections of being younger, having both of her parents in the same place, laughter, a sense of security. But this was different. There was calm. No storm ready to break under the surface that lent a layer of tension. That angst she’d always associated with her family and thought was normal. Maybe it wasn’t. Or maybe every family was different.