“That was awesome,” one of the men called out. “It looked so real. How’d you do it?” he asked eagerly as Luc approached the group slowly, ignoring Caitlin for the moment.
“You’ll never know,” he responded right before resting his palms on each of their heads in turn, erasing their memories as quickly as possible before turning to his mate. “You’re hurt. Let me fix it before they rouse.”
Caitlin stood still as he approached her, her disbelieving look going from the glazed faces of her group to Luc’s hard countenance. Gone was the playfully flirting lover of the past few days. In his place stood a man determined to get what he wanted, and right now, that was her. She didn’t fear him so much as she feared what she saw, and its implications. “Who…what are you?” she bravely asked, lifting her chin a notch. She had always prided herself on her unflinching courage in the face of adversity, but right now, the cowardly lion that followed Dorothy down the yellow brick road to Oz had more courage than she did.
“I am what you saw, Caitlin, but not what attacked you. Those creatures were rogues, the true undead, evil and destined to slide slowly into madness. I am one of the Brethren, a select few who can survive the bite of a master vampire without going insane. One,” he added, holding up his palm, “who is born with this telltale mark. The one destined to be your mate, along with my brother.” Unable to resist the sight and smell of her blood a moment longer, he dipped his head and licked the thin stream from one small puncture wound, savoring her taste as his body accepted the nourishment with a burst of lust and strength he was hard pressed to ignore. Unfortunately, now was not the time, and this definitely wasn’t the place for him to give in to the demanding urge to take her.
“So, you’re one of the good….vampires?” Despite the terror and stress of the past fifteen minutes, Caitlin felt the sexual pull of her body towards his, the demand for more, the need to slake her adrenaline fueled lust, made even more demanding when his tongue stroked over her neck wound, replacing the pain with warmth and nipple tightening, pussy gushing pleasure. Swearing at her uncharacteristic response, she pulled back, glaring up at him. “It’s fine. Is your friend going to be all right?”
“I don’t know.” Ignoring her first question, he answered her second curtly, her inquiry working as effectively as a glass of ice water in the face. “His fate now lies with his mate, so I’m not holding out much hope. Let’s go.”
“I need to get them back to the tour office,” she said, surprised at how sorry she felt for the man she didn’t even know. Or maybe it was the pain on Luc’s face that had her feeling such empathy.
Luc looked back at the six idiots who had thought Caitlin’s attack was all a show and did nothing to help her. Curling
his lip in disdain, he murmured, “By all means, let’s rid ourselves of these morons first.”
Unable to sleep, Grace was standing on the small balcony off Jacob’s bedroom gazing at the incoming storm. She had always enjoyed thunderstorms, loved curling up with a good book with the sound of rain pelting the window, the echo of thunder rumbling in the distance. But tonight the inky night sky lighting up from another bolt of lightning followed swiftly by the loud clap of thunder and the first drops of cool, spring rain felt anything but soothing. The turbulence of the weather seemed to feed the turbulence of the storm that had been raging within her for weeks now, ever since Jacob had stepped into Mason’s bedroom and looked at her out of those burning, enigmatic green eyes.
She missed him. As surprising as it was difficult for her to admit, she had missed him these past few days. Her body felt numb without the hum of constant arousal his nearness always evoked, her mind chaotic without his constant reassuring voice telling her to trust him. Now that she had finally gotten up the nerve to give that final step a try, he disappeared from her life as unexpectedly as he had barged in. What did you expect, she berated herself angrily, that he would wait forever? Maybe not forever, but she hadn’t considered he’d simply bail on her without a word, thought or explanation. She had taken his caring concern for her mental trauma for granted and was now paying the price.
The loud banging of the bedroom door being shoved open drew her attention, making her rush back inside. Nothing could have surprised her or distressed her more than seeing Jon and Damien half carrying, half dragging Jacob’s unconscious, blood soaked body to the bed. Throat closing up in panic and fear, she rushed to the bed, gasping, “What happened?”
“Rogue attack,” Jon bit out, his concern for his brethren, not Jacob’s mate. “He was too weak to fight them off.”
“Them?” Her hand flew to her throat as her gaze flew from Jacob’s still, pale form up to Jon’s accusing glare.
“Two, which should’ve been a cakewalk for him. But apparently, he hasn’t fed in days, if not longer. That, coupled with weeks of ignoring his body’s sexual needs, deleted his strength as well as his powers.”
Grace heard the blame in his voice, saw it in both Jon and Damien’s faces as they looked at her. Guilt and despair had her reaching out to touch Jacob, her hand encountering cool flesh, her gaze noticing for the first time that he showed absolutely no sign of life.
“Oh, God, no,” she whispered as her heart turned over in her chest and tears fell unchecked. “He’s dead?”
“No,” Damien quickly assured her, heartened by the devastation on her face. He wasn’t sure of her feelings before, but now he had hope they were strong enough she wouldn’t let Jacob die. “He refused our blood, which would’ve gone a long way in replenishing what he’s lost and healing him. He’s given up, Grace.” They didn’t have time to mince words or spare her feelings. She had to make a decision, and she had to make it now. “He needs both blood and sex to survive. It’s up to you whether he lives or dies.”
Grace watched both of them leave the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Memories assailed her as she struggled to remove his blood soaked clothes. Waking bound in Mason’s bed, the look on Jacob’s face when he first spotted her there, the humiliation and terror the first time Mason forced himself on her, her climax while riding Jacob’s bike and exploring his body, the panic when Mason revealed his fangs and she realized she was the victim of a vampire, her body’s constant response to Jacob despite him being a vampire also. Desperation, fear and urgency made her task easier as well as cursing both Damien and Jon for leaving her to do this alone.
“They could’ve at least helped me strip him,” she angrily muttered as she jerked and pulled to get his jeans off his legs. Rationally, she knew they had left the decision totally up to her, hadn’t done anything, including removing his clothes, to assist her in making this choice. “As if there ever was another choice,” she said aloud, finally succeeding in removing the last of his clothing only to cringe at the sight of the blood smeared across his stomach and streaked down his neck.
Running to the bathroom, she soaked a washcloth with warm water and raced back to his side, gently bathing away the bright red evidence of his wounds, surprised when she revealed both punctures were wounds barely discernible. Obviously, whatever his friends had done had worked in sealing the wounds and stopping the bleeding, it just hadn’t been enough to heal him from what he had already lost, lost because of her and her cowardly fears in accepting what had been right in front of her face all this time.
Through his patience, caring and constant denial of his own needs, Jacob had finally succeeded in breaking through her fears, only had she come to her senses too late? Looking down at his still body, touching his cool skin and noting his pale complexion, she felt her heart start to shatter, felt as if she was already too late. Then she remembered how brave Abby had been to seduce Damien out of his death sleep, to bring his body alive with her hands, mouth and body, and how close they’ve been since.
She wanted that, she needed that, and, by God, she was going to have that. Damien said it was up to her whether her mate lived or died, and if that was true, he was going to live. Stripping off her night shirt and panties, she crawled onto the bed next to him, her hand shakily tracing the rose tattoo wrapped around his right bicep. Shy, mousy Grace had never attempted to seduce a man, never came on to one and never initiated sex, but the thought of losing Jacob was tearing her apart. She might not be a raging diva, but she was the one he wanted, and not only was her body telling her unequivocally that he was the one for her, but her mind had finally accepted what her body had been telling her since she first laid eyes on him.
Lowering her head, she kissed his cool, unresponsive lips, refusing to allow his lack of response deter her. Her hand drifted from his arm to his chest, her fingers plucking at the gold nipple piercings that had so intrigued her when she felt them while riding behind him on his motorcycle. The contrast between his bad boy image and the steadfast, loyal man she had come to know was an intriguing, enticing combo that she had become powerless to resist.
This was the first time she had seen him naked, and she not only liked what she saw but liked what she felt lying next to him, touching him. The freedom to explore him was a heady feeling as was the knowledge that she supposedly had the power to bring him back to her. He had sacrificed enough for her, she wouldn’t let him succeed in making this one, final sacrifice. It had taken her awhile, but she finally realized that, with him there was a chance to grow whole again.
Grace replaced her fingers with her lips, tonguing first the small hoop then the nipple it was pierced through. His small bud hardened under her lips and tongue, giving her the first sign of hope. “Feels good, doesn’t it Jacob,” she whispered against his flesh, her lips brushing his nipple as she spoke to him. “I can’t wait for you to do this to me. I know I’ll love it as much as your body loves it. Come back to me, Jacob.” She kissed her way over to his other nipple, softly licking that one until it was as hard and distended as its mate. Using her teeth, she yanked on the piercing, wondering if that hurt and, if it did, if he liked the pain as much as she had liked the pain of his hand slapping her ass.
That last incident had been the eye opener, she now realized. When what should have been revolting as well as humiliating had turned out to be anything but, she should have admitted that all her ill-conceived notions not only about sex, but about Jacob, had been wrong and not waited until he had given up on her. She would make it up to him, she vowed silently as she moved down his torso, kissing his rigid stomach, licking his small wound as if she could soothe the pain, before continuing down.
Crisp, curly brown hair surrounded the base of his jutting erection, another definitive sign that he was still with her despite there still being no sign of life otherwise. Smiling above the smooth mushroom cap of his crown, she murmured to him, “See, Jacob, you don’t want to leave me any more than I want to leave you. Forgive me, please, and come back.” Opening her mouth, she gently engulfed his cockhead, moaning at the exquisite feel of having him in her mouth. Grace had little experience giving blow jobs, but the few her one boyfriend had talked her into and through were enough to give her the basics of what men liked in oral sex. Lots of tongue, tight suction and deep throating. She wasn’t in a position to gift him with the last one, but she could definitely give him plenty of the first two.
Gripping his shaft with her hand, she squeezed lightly as she swirled her tongue over his soft head, tasting a small drop of pre-come that made her shudder with pleasure. Over and over she stroked him, learning his shape, his size, dipping below the ridge to tickle the sensitive underside before taking more of him in her mouth. He felt like silk covered steel against her tongue, his size stretching her lips and filling her mouth uncomfortably, but the slight discomfort only seemed to heighten her pleasure, her body responding heatedly as much as his was starting to warm under her.
Bobbing up and down on his shaft, she took him deep, stroked him faster, and sucked him harder as his warming flesh spurred her on. Moaning again, she rubbed her aching nipples over his hair roughened thigh, but that only made them ache more. Her pussy felt as swollen as his cock, her juices seeping as much as his small slit, and with a groan of reluctance, she released him and crawled back up his body.