Page 112 of Cherish

Sweet Dreams Are

Made of Us

Our meeting with Nyaz winds down a few minutes later, and we all make our way to our rooms. As soon as Hudson and I open the door to ours, Smokey races straight for us. She slams into Hudson at a dead run, then scurries up his leg and torso until she’s sitting on his chest.

I expect her to admonish him about being gone so long, but instead she just chatters away about who knows what. Hudson, of course, nods and smiles like he understands every word of her story, and she ends up finishing with a flourish that makes both of them grin.

Then she reaches up and pats both his cheeks with her little hands before hightailing it out the door and down the hall.

“Should we go after her?” I ask. “She’s kind of young to be on her own in a new town.”

“She’s okay,” Hudson tells me. “She’s just going to feed and run around a little. She’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

I stare at him. “You couldn’t possibly have gotten that from what she told you. You don’t actually speak umbra…or whatever it is she speaks.”

“I don’t,” he agrees. “But I’ve gotten very adept at understanding certain noises that she makes at certain times. Including the one for food.”

I start to ask him what that noise is, then decide he probably has no desire to try to imitate the little umbra at the moment. Also, I have no desire to hear him imitate her. Not when my entire being is craving sleep like my life depends on it.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say after a few moments. “Will you order me something from room service before they close? I got so worked up downstairs that I didn’t eat much.”

“I noticed.” He runs a hand over my curls. “Anything particular you want?”

“Food,” I answer, because I just need fuel and to make my stomach stop growling.

One quick shower and a few bites of Adarie’s version of a grilled cheese later, I’m drawing the blackout curtains and crawling into bed. Hudson joins me a few minutes after, still slightly damp from his own shower.

I don’t care. When he reaches for me, I go, rolling over until I’m straddling him, my knees around his hips.

He murmurs my name as he threads his hands through my hair and gently pulls me down for a kiss. And then we’re rolling again, until I’m on the bottom and he’s on top, propped up on his elbows and staring down at me with eyes so intense, it almost hurts to look at them.

“Go ahead,” I whisper, lifting my chin and tilting my head back so that he can take what I so desperately want to give.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t say anything at all. But his hand moves to rest on my collarbone, and his fingers softly stroke the pulse point at the base of my neck.

His eyes are darker now, the deep blue of his irises nearly obscured by his blown-out pupils. I can sense the hunger in him, can feel it clawing at him from the inside. But still he watches me, still he doesn’t move except for the fingers slowly—oh so slowly—sliding back and forth against my vein.

“Go ahead,” I say again. And when that still doesn’t work, I run my hands up his lean, muscular back and tangle my fingers in the short, cool silk of his hair. I try to tug him closer, but he doesn’t budge so much as an inch.

Instead, he stays exactly where he is, eyes and skin and hair gleaming in the dim light of the bedside lamp. And as he stares down at me, mouth open just enough that I can see the tip of his fangs where they rest against his lush lower lip, I can feel the same hunger in his eyes beating inside me as well.

“Hudson.” I murmur his name as the ache grows and grows, taking me over.

Making me want.

Making meneed.

Making me desperate to have him in any way—in all the ways.

“Please,” I whisper, tangling my legs with his as I arch against him.

“Please what?” he whispers back, and there’s a wickedness in his tone that somehow has the desperation burning even hotter inside me.

“Do it. I need—” My voice breaks, and his control breaks along with it.

Hudson’s eyes seem to catch fire, and then he’s striking quick as a heartbeat, his fangs sinking deep into my skin.

Pleasure slams through me as he drinks and drinks and drinks, and I never want it to end.

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