Page 61 of Bloody Kingdom

My dad is dead, I will never have to hear another one of his lies and my mother... well, as for her, I see no reason as to why I would ever see her again. One of the joys of growing up and becoming an adult is you figure out pretty quickly that just because you’re related to someone by blood, it does not make them your family. Sometimes family is the people you choose to have in your life. Like Lucy. Lucy is my family.

“I’m not sure how to let go of the past,” he shocks me by admitting.

Moving across the room, I cup his face in my hand. The man who stands before me isn’t the one who rules these streets with an iron fist. His guard has dropped, allowing me to see the man I’m falling for. “Letting go of the past doesn’t mean you forget it, Silas. You’ll never forget, no matter how many years you’re alive. You’ll never forget the things or the people that brought you to this point, but the pain you’re clinging to isn’t doing you any good anymore.”

His dark eyes soften as he scans my face with a look of wonderment. “How did you become so wise in so few years on this earth?”

“I’m not sure,” I muse. “But according to Ira, you could learn a few things from me.”

I’m still in shock that Ira, sweet little Ira, was the puppet master this whole time. That he was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes. I’d already gotten over Silas forcing me here, but had I known Ira was the one who requested me from the start, I may have gotten over it faster.

I wish I could say that I remember the day in Boston when Ira first met me, but I can’t recall it for the life of me. My time at the hospital is a blur of high-stress moments as the different traumas came in. Even though I don’t remember that day, I’m glad I took the time to sit with Ira. The fact that I could offer him a bit of comfort on one of the worst days of his life makes all the other bad days at that hospital worth it.

His lips tip up. “Like what?”

Smirking slyly, I push playfully on his chest. “For starters, I can show you how to relax.”

I know my halfhearted shoves do little to actually sway his strong body, but he’s a good sport and allows me to push him backward until the back of his knees hit his bed. Quirking a brow at me, he challenges, “Is that so?”

“I don’t care that you’re immortal, surely all the stress you carry around can’t be good for your heart.” I turn on my soothing nurse voice that I usually reserve for ill patients. I swore I’d never do the sexy nurse thing, but here I am feeling little to no shame.

“My heart hasn’t beat in a long time, love,” he rasps as he falls onto the low-slung bed. “Though there have been a couple times as of late that I could have sworn I felt it beat once more.”

With my hands on his spread knees, I lean forward to brush my lips teasingly against his. “Really? Like when?”

He remains still as I continue to tease him with barely-there kisses on his mouth and along his jaw. “When you were attacked and I couldn’t get to you, I thought the fear was going to make my chest split open. Iloathedthat feeling. I destroyed my bedroom because of it.” My kisses come to a stop and I pull back to look him in the eyes. Now I know why his bedroom looked like a tornado blew through it. The guilt for making him feel that way eats at me. “And then later that night, I swear it beat again as you came around my cock and your heat became my own.”

I’m kissing him before he barely gets the final word out. What a lonely, cold existence he’s lived. In a way, I think he’s been punishing himself for what happened to Cecily. That deep down he thinks he doesn’t deserve to feel happy because she no longer feelsanythingbecause of him.I want to show him that it’s okay to move on, that his endless supply of time will go to waste if he doesn’t.

His hands grip the fabric of my loose cotton shorts as he drags me down to straddle him. I need very little coaxing. I climb onto his lap freely and eagerly.His tongue runs along the seam of my mouth, seeking entry. My lips part, allowing him access to sweep his tongue inside. I groan as the flavor that is justhimhits my tastebuds. It’s intoxicating. I could kiss him for hours and never get sick of it. A thousand years could pass, and I’dnevertire of his touch. He’s got me hooked on him.

Impatiently my hands shove his impeccably tailored jacket from his shoulders. He lets go of me just long enough to shove the offensive garment off to the side. It looks wildly out of place splayed out in the middle of the floor in his pristine room. It’s barely hit the hardwood before my fingers begin undoing each of the buttons of his shirt. I’m thankful he doesn’t wear a tie with daily suits. It’s one less thing I’d have to tear from his body.

I tear my mouth away from his so he can pull the hoodie over my head. His eyes light up when he discovers I’m not wearing anything under it. As if he can’t stop himself, Silas’s head dips so he can suck one of my taut nipples into his mouth. A hissing breath is released from between my lips as he scrapes his blunt teeth across it.

When he trails kisses up my chest and then sucks softly at the juncture of my neck, my heart leaps in my chest. Not in fear, but in anticipation. I shouldn’t want him to bite me, it should be my biggest fear, but the idea of him sinking those fangs of his into my vein sends waves of need through my system. “Would it hurt?” I breathe out my question as I tilt my head to the side, allowing him better access.

“No,” he answers against my skin. “Not at all. If done right, it’s very pleasurable.”

“Will you do it one day? Will you bite me?” I ghost my fingers down his now exposed chest, the muscles feel like cools stone under my touch. “I want you to drink from me.”

One second I’m sitting on his lap straddling him, the next I’m on my back pinned under his immense weight. Wild, angry eyes glare down at me as his fingers lock around my wrist like a vise. “Don’t ever say such a thing again, Quincey,” he seethes close to my face. “If you tempt me like that and I grant your request, there’s a chance I won’t be able to stop. I warned you about being reckless with your life, what the consequences would be if you were again. Do you really want me to take you over my knee?”

I grin up at him wickedly. “I’d rather you bite me, but I’ll take what I can get.” Feeling bold, I roll my hips up, grinding myself against the growing dick still confined by his slacks. The anger melts from his eyes, pure need replaces it as I do it again. “What would you rather I give you, my blood or my ass?”

His hand leaves my wrist only to lock around my neck, his thumb presses into my pounding pulse point. “I don’t need you togiveme anything. If I want it, I’ll simply take it from you,mon soleil.” This time when I roll my hips, he matches my movement, making me gasp at the glorious friction. “I’ll claim your ass as mine one day soon, but I want to leave my mark everywhere else first. I’m going to brand you from the inside out with my cock.”

“As if you haven’t already done just that.” I stretch lazily beneath him, spreading my legs wider to accommodate his hips. “But if you insist on staking your claim again, I suppose that’s fine with me.”

“Devious,” he murmurs. “You enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?”

“Not usually, but you seem to bring it out of me.” His hand relaxes enough on my throat to allow me to rear up and capture his mouth with mine. “Now take off your fucking pants, Mr. Laurent.”

The rest of our clothes are torn off in a hurried frenzy. Within seconds, I’m once again straddling the six-foot, four-inch vampire that is built like a goddamn god. His body is the most beautiful piece of artwork in the entire estate, it’s a preserved masterpiece in its own right. Each defined muscle looks as if it’d been carved by hand.

My fingers wrap around his thick length, and with languid movements, I work my hand up and down. His dark eyes watch with such intensity my skin burns. His hips buck under me when I spread the drop of cum around the head of his dick. The low sound he makes in the back of his throat is like music to my ears. His fingers dig into my hips, leaving fresh bruises over the two-day-old ones, but I don’t care. I’ll wear his marks proudly.

Biting my bottom lip, I hold his gaze as I bend at the middle to take him into my mouth. Silas groans as my wet, hot tongue slides over him. I take him as far back as I can. His eyes flare, heating with pleasure when I can’t stop the small gagging sound I make. He’s struggling to let me take the lead. I can see the internal battle written on his face.

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