Page 49 of The Night Runs Red

Maybe because my uncle is involved with the people who want to kidnap and possibly kill me? This was all getting to be too much. Up until a couple of months ago, I was relatively normal. Nothing crazy happened to me. But now I found myself in a tangled web of secrets and danger that I couldn’t unravel.

Jasper pushed up from the table. “Come on. It’s late. There will be no solving this tonight. If it makes you feel better, I will see what I can find out.”

“What makes you think you can get me information I can’t get myself?” I asked, forcing my body to stand. Every muscle in my body ached. As much as I wanted to go to bed, I wanted to soak in a warm bath more.

“Will you just trust me?”

Famous. Last. Words.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I woke up to the feeling of lips against my neck and the sharp scrape of fangs along my skin. My back arched off the bed as I wrapped my arms around Rion’s muscular body, enjoying the tantalizing scent of fresh mint and whiskey. His body was seated between my thighs, allowing me to feel his cock thickening along my core.

Rion’s calloused hands skated along my arms, pinning them above my head and interlocking our fingers as he ground into me slowly. Deliciously. His name left my mouth like a plea, and I finally opened my eyes to see him staring at me in wonder.

“Good morning, wife,” he murmured, peppering kisses along my collarbone. “You were not in our room this morning.”

Our room.

Guilt warred inside with my shame. When Jasper and I left the library last night, I allowed my insecurities to get the better of me. Instead of heading up the tower to Rion’s room, I solemnly made my way back to mine, where I fell into a restless sleep. I was still unsure of my feelings and frankly a bit terrified of the way he already captured my heart in such a short time.

“Allow me to put that pretty mind to rest,” he said, pressing an open-mouthed kiss along my collarbone. “I want you in our bed every single night.”

“How do you do that?” I asked. This wasn’t the first time he’d seemingly read my mind. Each time he did it, something else quickly stole my attention. Well, not this time. No matter how tempting it was to let it slip.

He continued blazing a path across my chest. “I told you I could read people. It is one of my many talents.”

I pulled away from his touch even though I craved it more than air. He really had a way of distracting me. “Reading people is a lot different than knowing their thoughts,” I said, deadpan. “Whatever you do is something more.”

“Perhaps it is.” Rion peered down at me. “Does that bother you?”

It wasn’t an admission, but it was something. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Does that mean you can hear every thought that pops into my head?”

“I have learned over the years to tune people out. The mind is a deafening place. Even though they may not recognize it, a single person constantly thinks about a hundred different things at once. But you,” he paused, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can single you out in a room full of thousands. Your thoughts always reach me like the chime of a crystal-clear bell, beckoning me home.”

Oh gods, my heart was soaring. This was it. I was falling in love with him. No matter how much I tried to protect myself, I didn’t know how long I could go on pretending. I’d wanted to take things slow, because why should we rush something we have our whole life to figure out, but to hell with that. He’d touched and nurtured a part of me I hadn’t known needed tending, which now belonged solely to him. In fact, every part of me belonged to him.

Then, with a sickening realization, I remembered the conversation we just had. Heat flooded my cheeks. Judging by the smile on his face, he’d realized my blunder before I had.

I didn’t know what to say, or if I should say anything, so I leaned in and kissed him gently instead. No words could adequately express the unfamiliar emotions I was experiencing. But where they failed, my actions would succeed.

Our tongues tangled as desperation increased. This man was everything. Rion had embedded himself in my skin, my blood, my very being. There was no going back. I knew what I wanted, and I wanted him. Even if an infinitesimal voice whispered for me to hold back, to not give him my all. I shoved that panicky feeling away. It had no place here.

His fingers dug into my skin roughly as he explored the expanse of my body. On a whim, I’d decided to sleep naked last night, something I never usually did but had gotten used to with Rion.He was fully dressed, still in his suit from last night, and somehow, it made the situation hotter.

He bit at my breasts, causing sharp twinges of pain and pleasure to coexist. “Those fucking noises,” he growled, biting me harder. “Do you feel how hard they make me, Calia?”

Rion rotated his hips to prove his point, not that he needed to. Suddenly, he sat back on his heels and stared down at me. It would normally make me insecure, given every blemish, scar, and stretch mark was on display. But when I looked into Rion’s eyes, I saw nothing but adoration. He slowly traced the soft parts of my tummy and thighs, and I fought the urge to flinch.

Insecurities aside, the voices of doubt had been brutally programmed into me from an early age. It was hard to repress those memories and how they made me feel, but somehow, he quelled my urge to run.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, tracing a silvery scar curving along the plump side of my stomach. He leaned in and kissed me, softer this time. I still felt the pangs of desire we’d had moments before, but this was his way of showing me his feelings without having to voice them. Allowing ourselves to say it out loud made it too real, and no matter my feelings, I didn’t want to force Rion’s hand. We had our whole lives, our very long and immortal lives, for that to happen. Yet, with each caress of his lips, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

Whether he voiced it or not, I knew Rion was falling just as hard as I was. I only hoped we didn’t crash and burn.

I pushed the jacket from his shoulders as he worked at the buttons on his shirt. We never took our eyes off one another, careful not to burst whatever bubble we’d found ourselves in. Dropping his clothes to the floor beside the bed, he rested in between my thighs once more and dragged the head of his cock through my center.

“You are already drenched,” he mused, looking down at the wetness coating his length. “Look at the way you glisten, baby…”