Page 43 of The Night Runs Red

A sharp slap against my aching center had me crying out. I didn’t have time to breathe before his hand came up and squeezed the sides of my throat, forcing me to look at him. Swirls of inky shadows and pure light danced with one another in his eyes. “Beg me to come.” He tightened his grip. “Use your wicked fucking tongue I love so much, and beg.”

I didn’t have time to dissect the meaning of his words because I was too lost in the pleasure he allowed me to taste. “Please,” I murmured, gasping as he withdrew to the hilt and slammed back in. His eyes were trained on the spot we were joined. “You should be the one begging.” His gaze widened in surprise, but the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Use this pussy to make yourself come, husband.”

He dropped his head and moved his hand to my clit, working in tight circles. I was mindless with need, standing at the precipice of the highest mountain, when I saw his own resolve cracking. Rion pounded into me until my vision darkened, and all I could focus on was the sound of our bodies slapping against one another. I cried out, feeling my body clench around him as I jumped from the cliff and dove deep into a sea of pleasure. There was nothing else but him and I.He hit a spot that sent my body careening into uncharted waters. Wetness gushed from between my thighs as he continued to piston his hips. My nails dug into his skin as I screamed, my legs shaking around his waist.

With one final thrust, he let loose a deep growl before flooding my body with his release. I felt each ripple of his orgasm shudder through him as he continued to slowly move inside of me. He caught my mouth in a kiss before whispering, “Look at the mess we made.”

Rion pulled out of me with care, the mixture of our releases coating his cock, and laid next to me. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to move, but I gripped him in my hand and stared at him before lowering my mouth to his softening erection. The taste of both our come wasn’t something I thought I’d enjoy, but I did. It was intoxicating.

His fingers wound in my hair before pulling me up to his mouth. He kissed me slowly, allowing his tongue to seek access with a gentle caress. When he was done, he held me close to his chest. We laid together in the silence, listening to each other’s labored breaths.

Sated, I studied the room. A tall bookcase stood in the corner next to a well-worn leather chair with a pair of reading glasses resting on the arm. My gaze caught on them, curious as to why he had glasses at all. Vampyres had exceptional sight. “They were my father’s,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. His fingers trailed in idle patterns on my skin. “He had an accident when he was young that damaged his eyesight. He could get around fine in his day-to-day life without them, but he was an avid reader and found the text too small.”

He missed his father as I missed my mother. There was nothing we could do to quell that ache, either. It would live within us forever. That was the shitty thing about grief. It could hit you at any time and without warning.

“I feel closer to him when I have them near. As if he is still with me somehow.” His voice was small, as though he’d never been allowed to admit that out loud until now.

“Oh, Rion,” I said, turning to him and wrapping my arms around him. “He is. He always will be.” I placed my hand on his chest. “Even if you can’t see him.”

Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours passed before I spoke again. “Have you ever loved anyone?” I startled myself with the question, especially as I tried to convince myself I wasn’t falling for him. Because that would be insane. It would be absolutely out of the question.

Right?

Rion was silent for a long moment before he finally met my gaze. “Once. Long ago.”

I was surprised he’d answered, but I wanted to know more if he would allow it. “What happened?”

Another beat of silence. “She was murdered.”

Oh gods. I hated asking, but I found my fascination with the matter interesting. There wasn’t a single part of me that was jealous, either. His history spanned further than mine, and it would’ve been foolish to assume he’d never been touched by the potent fervor of love. Instead, I mourned for my husband and the love he’d lost. The pain he tried to hide was written in the night sky of his eyes, forever frozen as a constellation amongst the stars of his memory. A single tear fell down his cheek, which neither of us moved to wipe away. That wasn’t how pain worked. You couldn’t simply wipe the slate clean and start over. It lingered.

I reached out, running my fingertip softly across the soft, raised skin of his scar. His muscles tensed under my touch, and he watched me curiously before clearing his throat. “Have you?”

“Never,” I answered without hesitation. Nor had I ever felt an inkling of the feeling.

Until possibly now.

But I couldn’t tell him that. Now, it was more important than ever to keep my heart guarded as best I could because I could see Rion D’Arcy shattering that never and turning it into an always.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I fell asleep in his arms after our conversation died down. We hadn’t spoken much after I’d asked him about his past, and I was okay with that. Great, even. The seemingly tiny grain of truth he’d given me had been one more thing I hadn’t known before. And that, I decided, was progress.

My hand reached out, searching for him in the dim morning light, but he wasn’t in bed. I blinked away the haze of sleep before pulling the sheets around my breasts and sitting up. He sat quietly in his armchair, tracing the outline of his father’s glasses as he stared out at the Odesza. It was such a light, reverent movement—a careful caress that resembled longing. A book was in his lap, but he paid it no mind.

Though I knew he would hear me, I was quiet as I gathered the sheets around my body and left the bed. The wooden floor was cold against my feet. He looked up as I approached, a tender smile gracing his face. “Good morning,” he whispered, reaching out for me. Rion pulled my body to him, circling his arms around my soft waist. For a moment, neither of us said anything as we watched the water below crash against the rocks.

These were the moments when I forgot about our past, the curse, his family, and my own—all the things that ultimately would have led to our unhappiness or doom. Gods, it still could. If his mother or uncle found out about what happened, they would be less than enthusiastic. And it wasn’t about the sex; I was sure they wouldn’t care about that, but it was what the moment meant that threatened to be our doom.

And if I was honest with myself, which I hated, I knew the dynamic between Rion and me had been in a state of constant evolution since the moment we laid eyes on each other. I didn’t know where it would take us, and even though I was scared as hell, a part of me wanted to find out.

The other wanted me to run as far away as possible because the depth of emotion this man could stir inside my chest was dangerous.

What did I really have to lose, though? We were forced to be together for the rest of our lives, or we would face the wrath of the curse and die painful deaths. But even a horrific death would not compare to the embarrassment and pain of his rejection if he decided he no longer wanted me.

His arms tightened around me as his lips grazed my bare shoulder. He peppered the skin with delicate kisses, sending those stupid butterflies fluttering in my stomach. It really was unnatural how my body reacted to his actions.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, resting his cheek against me.

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