Page 96 of Wanted

Unbuttoning my shirt, I remove it, then toe off my shoes. I’d remove my wet pants, but I don’t think she’d be comfortable with that.

Despite coming all over me.

Sliding into bed beside her, I pull the quilt up and tuck it around her shoulders. Taking care to make sure she’s covered in softness and will be warm.

Us vampires tend to run on the cooler side, unless we’ve recently eaten.

Wrapping one arm around her, I long to press my body against her, but my cock is still pressing painfully against my zipper.

And I don’t think she’d appreciate getting poked in the back all day.

The pain I suffer now, though, is worth the peace slowly seeping into her body as she falls asleep.

For a long time, I stare at her, my thoughts jumping all over the place.

My own rest eluding me.

I survived what we did today by the skin of my teeth. But what will happen tomorrow? And possibly the night after?

The answer to my problem strikes me like a lightning bolt to the cock.

She opened herself to me.

I wasn’t able to achieve any physical relief while awake…

But what’s to stop me from seeking it in her dreams?

NINE

ALENA

A weeping stone wall stands before me, stretching up as far as I can see.

I stare hard at it, frowning. Where did it come from? Has it always been here?

It’s been cracked somehow. The streams of endless murky tears that flow down its surface disappearing into several jagged crevices.

How can I possibly fix this?

Reaching out, the tips of my fingers touch one of the crevices, but the moment I feel abiteof pain I jerk my hand back.

This… this is a disaster. If I don’t somehow fix these cracks—

“Is this where you lived?” Raphael asks, his voice strangled as if the words are choking him.

Spinning away from the wall in surprise, I see a shadow walking into my old cell. The shadow has the form and shape of a man but is made completely of darkness. A darkness so thick I can’t see through it.

The shadow doesn’t frighten me, though. I can sense it’s Raphael somehow.

The shadow walks right up to my bed and bends down, touching my brown blanket. The bed is just as I left it, with halfthe blanket hanging off the edge and the white sheets stained red.

Fingers made of darkness rub my blanket and this cold, unwanted…sadnessflows over me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, his intrusion feeling like a violation.

He doesn’t belong here. This is my space. My… prison. Where I suffer the agony of existing.

How did he get in? It shouldn’t be possible.

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