Page 9 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

For a fleeting second, I imagine aFranken-mate: Ben’s broad shoulders, Tomas’ powerful legs, Shadow’s ridiculously perfect ass, and Grayson’s god-tier abs. They call this objectification, right?Good thing it’s all happening in my head, where no one can see what a basic bitch I’m being.

He climbs over me, dropping a knee between my legs as his hand grips his cock, dragging it through my slickness. Then he pushes inside me at a snail’s pace—slow and deliberate, the most excruciating torture.

“Look at me, Lover,” he commands, his voice low and thick. “I want to watch your eyes go hazy, the way your mouth falls open…”

He slides in, inch by glorious inch, until he’s fully seated. The curve of him—my God—it’s perfect. Just the right stretch, hitting places inside me I didn’t even know existed before him. My Goldilocks cock.

His eyes glow now, a glint of red flickering in the hazel one. He isn’t trying to glamour me, but the venom’s already making me dizzy, and the urge to bite him becomes overwhelming. An itchy pressure builds in my mouth.

Shit. The fangs picked one hell of a time to show up.

I lunge for his arm, the one braced beside my head, but he just laughs, dodging me with that dark, amused grin. His voice slides through the tension like a breath of smoke.

“Do you want to bite me, then? Is that what you want, Lover? Do you want to be mine, bonded in this life and the next?”

The words catch me off guard. They slice through the electric, wild pull between us, and my body stills. My heart hammers, but my breath stays slow, controlled. I steady myself, my voice barely a whisper.

“Doyouwant this?” I ask, my eyes locked on his, daring him to show doubt. My voice steadies, clear and certain. “Because I do.I want to be yours—every time, every life. There’s nothing I want more.”

His expression shifts, something heavy passing through his eyes—hesitation, or maybe the weight of too many lifetimes. He shakes his head, not in denial, but as if untangling thoughts too deep to speak aloud.

Then, with a tenderness that makes my heart ache, he captures my mouth with his. When he pulls back, his lips brush mine in a soft sigh.

“Sunday…” His voice is quieter now, like it’s carrying the burden of a hundred lifetimes. “You need to understand before you make this decision. I can’t force you into this. I’ve lived long enough to know what it means to choose this path—to bond, fully and irrevocably. When I give you my blood this time, there’s no turning back. You’ll feel everything—every part of me—as long as you live. Our memories, our hearts, our pain… stretching out over the years, intertwining with every moment. And after this, I can never be your Maker.”

He pauses, his fingers brushing my cheek, searching my face for understanding. “With frequent blood exchanges, you’ll begin to age very slowly. But you will age. You’ll live for a very long time—longer than you can imagine. But while you change, I won’t. I’ll stay exactly as I am.”

I blink, the weight of his words crashing down on me. The implication is clear. He isn’t just talking about the physical differences—it’s the emotional ones, too. As he looks into my eyes, I feel the truth sink deep and cold within me. How will I cope, watching everyone I love fade away while Grayson remains, untouched by the years?

I swallow hard, trying to process the magnitude of it. I’d be the one who changes. I’d watch my skin wrinkle, my hair gray, my bones weaken with time. And all the while, he’d remain… a beautiful, unchanging twenty-seven-year-old. Would it hurt?Would I resent him for not aging with me? Would he resent me for growing frail, a constant reminder of my mortality and his immortality?

A darker thought creeps in: if I take this step, I’ll outlive them all—my mates, my family, everyone I hold dear. And it will hurt. God, it will hurt to watch them go. To keep living when they can’t.

Rurik’s words slither back into my mind:

When you are two thousand years old, the events of this night will be one of a million memories of your human life. Your attachment to those shifters will be a fond, somewhat bittersweet memory. The people who will matter are the immortals you choose to surround yourself with.

It must be like a sequoia falling in love with a mayfly. The thought steals my breath, and suddenly, I have so much respect for Grayson—his willingness to keep loving, keep losing, knowing how much it costs him every time.

I look up at him, my heart catching in my throat. I can’t think about two thousand years from now—not when the future feels so impossibly far away. “I want to be your partner,” I whisper, the words trembling but steady. “Now and for as long as I can.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and doubt snakes its way into my chest. Maybe he was hoping I’d turn him down, that I’d find a way to walk away from this path. But then his lips curve into that sad, knowing smile, the one that holds a thousand lifetimes of joy and grief. He leans in, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead.

“Then I’ll give it to you, my love. Because I will greedily hoard every moment you give me.”

And with a tenderness that makes my chest ache, he captures my mouth with his. His kisses are firm, edged with something like finality, as though he’s sealing this moment into memory.Still, he carefully avoids my teeth, even now—always mindful, always in control.

He pulls out of me and sits back on his heels. I’m about to wrap my mouth around his pretty cock when his voice cuts through the haze, commanding and firm: “Hands and knees. I want to be able to touch every part of you.”

I scramble, awkward and eager, flipping over and trying to decide how far apart he wants my knees. Before I can figure it out, he’s behind me, his hand pressing firmly into the small of my back. His palm sweeps over my ass, more a massage than a teasing brush of fingers.

“Calm yourself, Lover. All in good time.”

I glance back over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “We are flirtin’ with daybreak here.”

He ignores me, his fingers exploring with wicked intent—gliding across my skin, teasing my holes, leaving me trembling and desperate.

Finally, finally, he slots himself against my pussy. I spread my knees wider, sinking into what feels like a perverse prayer position. He curses softly, then pushes inside me, filling me with that perfect stretch. I push back against him, giving a little wiggle, because I know I’m insufferable.

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