Page 38 of The Royal Street Witch
I blink, my powers hard to explain. “Witches are energy in human form. We move the energy that constantly flows inside our flesh out of our bodies, joining it with natural energy.”
“But there are limitations?” he asks, and I nod.
“Every action has consequences. There are costs to magic—limitations, of course. I could only hold us up for seconds. If my mother or Chantal were here to help, we could stay up for minutes.”
“Does it hurt?”
I laugh. “Hurt? Well, yeah. It can deplete us if we hold on for too long. Weaken us. The night in the courtyard, my hand hurt for two days after holding you against that wall.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispers, looking me up and down. His grip loosens around me, but then he pulls me in, crushing me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him hard, my breasts pressing against his chest, the waves breaking over the pool sides, my body on fire for him. Hands sliding up the outsides of my thighs, breaths labored and wanting, and I squeeze my legs so tight around him, they ache.
“What you do to me…” he groans, and I catch his words in my mouth, covering him with kisses and moans.
Then he’s pushing my thighs off of him, breaking away, as fangs slide out and his breathing quickens. Eyes throbbing with need, trying to catch his breath, he grips the side of the pool.
I step back, pressing my fingers to my pulsating lips, giving him a minute to gather whatever battle is going on inside of him. My hand slides away, but he grabs it, placing it back on his neck.
“It’s okay. Just needed a breather. I’m fine.”
My fingers explore his wet hair as his breathing regulates, his chest moves slower. “So are fangs like dicks? They come out when they’re turned on?”
His incredulous look is amusing and then he laughs. “Something like that. They come out when I’m aroused, hungry or in danger. It’s instinctual.” He taps on the side of his head with his index finger.
“So what are you now?”
“What do you think?” he asks, picking me back up, grinding me into his pelvis. I feel him, hard, wanting me. Wanting my blood too, no doubt.
“Can I touch one?”
With slight hesitation, he nods.
I run my finger along the smooth enamel, letting the pad of my finger touch the sharp end.
“Do you want to drink blood when you’re aroused?”
“Yes.”
“Do you always drink whomever you’ve slept with’s blood?”
His eyes look to the calming waves, deliberating. “Yes,” he says quietly, both of us knowing he can never have mine. “Can you make a spell to undo it? Like how you created the potion?”
“No, the spell is bound to protect us. It can never be undone. You can never taste me.” I wrap my legs around him tighter, almost sad that I can never give him something he desires.
“I can taste other things,” he says and places a hand between my thighs, and I take a sharp breath, his fingers rubbing against my panties. I let my head fall back, dipping my hair in the water, my fingers locked around his neck. He can never taste my blood because he’s a vampire and I’m a witch and we are not allowed to intermingle—my blood would kill him. I lift my head back up and meet his eyes.
“I would’ve never acted on this if you hadn’t talked me into it. I’m worried you’re dangerous, careless, and impulsive. And I don’t want it to get me killed.”
His fingers slide away from my panties, but move up my stomach and stop over my heart.
“Well, tell me how you really feel,” he laughs. “Dangerous? Yeah. Impulsive? Sure. But not careless. I’m coded to covet, and it’s ingrained in me to deny myself what I want. And just know, I’ve wanted you since I first saw you at Nightwalkers. I knew I had to have you and I knew this could never be just business between us. So please know that it’s been a battle of will every day since. I’m not careless. I’m careful. Especially for what’s precious to me. And right now, that’s you.”
I place a finger at the corner of his eye and trace it down his face, the same route I’ve watched his blood tears fall. His tongue rests on the tip of a fang, his hard chest moving in and out so slowly. He’s earnest and honest and I want him. I pull him by the neck toward me and gently brush his lips against mine, slowly taking his tongue in my mouth, swallowing his moans down my throat where I can keep them forever.
“Let me,” he groans and looks down at my panties. “Let me,” he whispers again and it’s all I need to hear.
So I lean back, floating on top of the water, my hair swaying around me, arms above my head. He pulls my legs over his shoulders, slides his face between my thighs, pushes my panties to the side, and tastes me where it won’t kill him.
I WAKE, SHROUDED IN BLACKNESS, in a bedroom with a steel door and windows shuttered from a sliver of light. I’m engulfed in sheets of satin while he sleeps next to me, though I can’t see him. I run my leg across the bed until my toes meet his kneecap and let it linger there, still mystified that what has transpired between us is real. Because last night he brought me to his bed, and what they say about sex with vampires is no lie. Three times he’s been inside of me, three times I felt something I’ve felt with no other, three times I never wanted it to end.
