Page 70 of By the Pint

I paused. “I … could do.” But I knew I wouldn’t. I made quilts for people I loved. And I loved Casey, but this was only temporary. We’d both move on, forget about each other. Quite literally in his case. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the thought of him possessing a piece of my love, but not remembering where he got it, or who gave it to him.

“Why don’t you have a go?” I seized the needle from the air and thrust the quilt towards him.

“Really? No. I’ll be awful at it. I don’t even know what to do.”

“Look.” I pushed the needle down through the layers of fabric, caught it the other side and pulled it back up.

He copied, shooting me furtive glances every five or six seconds. “Like this?”

“Yep. Easy, huh?”

I watched Casey grapple with the material and the thread, which seemed intent on braiding itself. I resisted ‘helping’ him with my telekinesis. Instead, I offered the occasional “well done” or, after crawling across the sofa cushions to him, “good boy”.

Casey swore quietly. His breaths tripped over themselves.

Bingo.

I shouldn’t want to make things more difficult for myself when the time came to hand him back to Killian. But I’d also never wanted anything more than I wanted this man.

“Fuck, you’re making me so fucking hard, I can’t concentrate on this. I didn’t think I’d be so turned on from sewing.” Casey pushed the quilt back to me. He got to his feet. The bulge at the front of his jeans was now at eye level.

“Then just let me fuck you. I’m as uncomfortable as you are here.” I pulled the blanket from my lap to show himthe proud, and sizeable, tent my erection had made in my sweatpants.

He literally bit down on his knuckles. “Fuck,” he whined, letting out a series of smaller, even whinier whines. “Dima, we can’t. I want to, but … I don’t want to lead you on.” Ah, here it was. The reason Casey was holding back. “I know you want more from me than I can ever give you. And I … don’t want to be responsible for your heartbreak.” Casey folded his arms over his chest, in a gesture that said the discussion had been closed. But his covert glances at my dick told me otherwise.

“Okay, let me be honest with you,” I said, knowing this line of conversation would only go one of two ways. Either Casey was going to shut me down and kick me out of his room.

Or he was going to …

“I’ve already fallen for you. Hard. Like stupidly hard. And I know you’ve got this big date with immortality coming up. I don’t want to change that, I promise you. You are you because this goal is part of you. And you don’t feel the same about me, I know that, and that’s why I’m comfortable fucking you senseless. Because I know you won’t change your mind. Make sense? It might be more than just a fumble for me, but that’s okay. Once you’re a vampire, and you don’t remember me, I’ll, like, get therapy or some shit. And it’ll be crap for me. But it’s going to be crap, regardless. Because I already lo—like you too much. So, the least you can do is just give me this time with you. Why waste these last few weeks, days even, when I could be inside you, making you scream? Making you come so hard you’ll hear colours?” I reached out and wound my fingers around his belt. “At least let me taste you. Once, just to see if you like it. Hmm?”

Casey stared at me, silently. Stunned for a few beats. He swallowed. “Um, yeah, ‘kay. I’d be okay with that. Sure.”

I slid off the cushion and onto my knees in front of him. He let out a strangled moan, and I pulled him back down to the couch.

“Oh, gods,” he huffed out. “We shouldn’t—Oh, fuck. Yeah, no. Fuck it.”

“Baby, Moonflower, I … uh, can’t swallow, okay?” I nestled myself between his legs and ran my hands up his jean-clad thighs. “You do not want to see what happens when I swallow, and Jean will kill me. So, let me know, before you come, or let me into your mind.” I could have broken his barrier. It wasn’t yet strong enough to keep me out completely. But I didn’t want to, anymore. I wanted Casey to feel safe in his space.

“Okay,” he said, nodding earnestly, and swallowing as though demonstrating he would have no such problem.

I stood, pulled my shirt off over my head, tossed it aside, and leaned down over him. Caging his big, perfect, human body with mine. He gazed up at me, brow furrowed, eyes clouded with lust. I trailed a finger down his jaw and brought my mouth to his. I needed to taste him, feel his heat on my tongue, his soft, warm lips moving against mine. He fumbled with the tie of my waistband.

“I’m going to take exactly what I need from you.” My fingers brushed down over the hot throbbing pulse in his neck, and an indecent whine left my lips. “And what I need is to have every part of this incredible body on, against, in my mouth. Is that okay?”

“Gods, yes. Fuck, yes.”

I kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, and fisted my fingers into the hair at the back of his head. I twisted it sharply so that I saw the tick-ticking below his jaw.

Holy immortality, Casey was flawless. I placed my open mouth to his pulse and willed my fangs to stay sheathed. My dick throbbed painfully every time our skin made contact.

I kept my fangs tucked away, and Casey’s head held where I wanted it, and I dragged my mouth down the column of his throat, nipping at his flesh, digging my tongue into the soft hollow in the centre.

“Was this shirt expensive?” I asked, pushing away enough to look into his eyes and threading my fingers either side of his collar.

Casey’s eyes flashed, his pupils so dilated they appeared almost black. “Seventy-five silvers,” he said, puffing out a delicious hot breath between us.

I tsked. “So much money for a cum-rag.” And with one swift, air-renting movement, I tore it straight down the middle.