Page 193 of To Ashes and Dust
He pulled me tightly against him, his body bare against my own, his voice husky as he spoke. “I’mblissfullyexhausted, happy for every second you’ve taken from me, and I can’t tell you how eager I am to satisfy your hunger again and again, with my blood, my cock, whatever you need. I’m yours.”
I smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, his skin so warm and soft, the salt of his sweat mingling with the rich scent of cedarwood and leather. We were a mess, hadn’t showered since I’d awoken in our bed the night before, but I’d been so lost, balancing precariously on the edge of hunger, exhaustion, and pure need. I’d lost count of how many times I’d fed, how many times we’d made love to each other, how few hours of sleep we’d managed in between.
“Will I be like this forever?” I asked, almost fearful of what I’d become. Damien had told me a human had never been turned into an immortal, that there were no records of anything like this happening.
“You shouldn’t. You just underwent a massive change. Your body’s been completely remade, healed. It takes a lot to repair the damage your mortal body harbored. I’m sure you’ll feel normal again soon. There’s a period similar to this for our kind we call the settling, when we reach our prime, stop aging, and come into our magic. It’s then that we develop the need to feed. It’s just as intense. I’ve helped you through your settling once before.”
I blinked, scanning through the countless memories screaming to be seen. He had... had helped me as Lucia through my settling. It was hazy, but I vaguely remember bits and pieces.
He tilted his head, and my eyes fell to the skin of his throat, the vein pulsing just beneath the surface, the skin black and blue from all the times I’d fed. My breath caught in my throat as his hand trailed over my hip, the hum of my magic rising to the surface to meet his, the bond so strong, I couldn’t imagine never having felt it to begin with. The pull had been there before when I was human, and it had strengthened when we’d done the mating ceremony, but this...
This was more than I could’ve ever imagined.
His emotions surged—happiness, pride, love, adoration, need, hunger. It was overwhelming, almost too much to register all at once, and my own emotions rose to meet his, crashing into each other like a tidal wave. I lifted my eyes to his once more, smiling as I cupped his cheek.
“Mine.”
His ambered ashen eyes brightened, lighting with such profound adoration, I could have cried. “Yours.”
I kissed him, and he rolled over, pulling me until I straddled him. His hard length pressed against me, the movement enough to tear a gasp from me as he brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves between my thighs. My body shuddered against him.
“Gods,” I breathed, grabbing onto his shoulders as he sat up. His hands slid down my waist to my hips, his eyes burning as he gazed into mine. I lowered myself to his throat, my fangs throbbing with the promise of the sweet, luscious taste of his blood, of the power within it. I bit down, the rich dark liquid spilling onto my tongue like dark chocolate, and Damien’s moan mirrored my own.
Within seconds, he gripped my hips and lifted me just enough to plunge himself into me, my body absorbing every glorious inch of him, and I cried out as we burned together.
We’d spent the entire morning tangled up in each other, and I’d finally started to adjust to the light leaking through the curtain, to the feel of the fabric, the very air against my skin. It was all so strange to adjust to the sounds, the smells, everything.
If it were possible to melt, I would have been a puddle of useless limbs—my body nearly one with the blankets as I lay beneath Damien, his body twitching against mine as I shuddered through the remnants of my orgasm. His skin was slick with sweat. His dark hair hung in damp waves around his face as he gazed down at me, and I lifted my hand to tuck a stray curl behind his ear. A crooked grin formed on his face.
“I don’t know which I like more: the sounds you make, or the way you taste on my tongue,” he said as he leaned down to brush his lips against mine.
I giggled and shivered at the feel of the stubble along his jaw tickling my skin. “You keep talking like that, and I may just enjoy makingyoucall outmytitle in bed.”
One of his dark brows cocked up. “I’m awfully tempted to keep you here just to see what you’d do to make that happen.”
I pushed at his chest, giggling as he rolled off me.
“In all honesty, while I’d love to hog you all to myself, I’m sure the others are desperate to see you,” he said, shifting to the edge of the bed.
“Before that...” I grunted as I pushed myself up, my body protesting the movements. “I need a shower.”
“A shower would definitely be nice,” Damien agreed with a chuckle. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before pushing himself off the bed.
“I’m going to need a minute,” I said, my body still shivering as my orgasm faded.
“I’ll go get the shower started,” he said, and headed for the bathroom. I turned over onto my side, tilting my head to enjoy the view of his ass.
I couldn’t resist; and I blew out a whistle, to which he smirked over his shoulder at me. “Don’t tempt me.”
I giggled and rolled over onto my stomach, drawing a deep breath as I tried to find control of my body. My gaze fell to the white gown I’d worn the night before, now discarded on the floor. I couldn’t remember much of what happened before I’d come to in Damien’s arms, his wrist bleeding, my body wracked with so much pain and hunger, I could barely think straight. The pain was gone now—my ribs no longer broken, my shoulder blades healed as well, and the hunger I’d felt last night, while not quite gone, was much more tolerable.
My heart? It didn’t hurt anymore, didn’t beat the same way—pumping in three powerful beats instead of two...
It was amazing, all the things I could hear now—the wind whistling through the magnolia branches beyond the window, the hum of the radiators throughout the house, the faint, distant sound of cars driving in the city. The shower came to life in the bathroom, the scent of the minerals in the water drifting on the air through the open doorway mixed with Damien’s scent of cedarwood and leather, mixed with... my cheeks heated at the sweet and salty scent of what we’d been busy doing for the last several hours.
The sheets rustled as I pushed myself up to sit. Damien returned from the bathroom and his pace quickened when he caught sight of me pushing off the bed. “You okay to stand?”
I nodded, tentatively reaching out to his extended hand, bracing myself as I lowered my feet to the floor. The wood was icy against my skin, but I pushed through it, rising. Gods, I was unsteady, as if I had new legs, which I guess I sort of did in a strange way. My eyes fell to my wrists, and I stiffened. I pulled my hand from Damien’s grasp, staring down at the new skin of my arms. The scars left from Marcus’ torture were gone—the thin lines on my wrists I had left years ago... gone.
