Page 46 of The Union
“Play with yourself, Layla.” So much lust-filled pain was laden in his voice.
The headboard knocked against the wall as we fucked like wild animals in the jungle. Skin slapping skin. Lust in the air, and love in my heart.
“I need your tits in my mouth while I fuck you.” He pulled out and flipped me on my back.
When he shoved his cock inside me once again, I squealed, clutching the sheets.
He suckled a nipple into his mouth, and I met him thrust for thrust as a spiraling tickle of awareness teetered on the edge.
I could fuck this man all day long. His grunts and growls, his gorgeous body, his undying love, and the way we fit together was too much—and yet, not enough.
He gave my tits equal attention before trailing kisses up to my neck. Before I could take a breath, he bit. As if the sting of his fangs into my flesh was the key to unlocking my orgasm, I moaned out my release, shouting his name as a sheet of white light flashed behind my eyes.
He drank and fucked, and on his last pull of my blood into his mouth, he threw his head back, and a guttural roar filled the room, his cock pulsating inside me.
I coasted my hands over his sweat-slicked chest, basking in the glory of how much I was in love with him.
He righted his head and zeroed in on me, his silver eyes shining like diamonds in black sand. “Marry me, baby doll.”
Time stopped, and the room spun. I heard him, or I think I did. “Come again?” I pushed out a shaky breath, and when I did, Sam grimaced.
I sat up on my elbows. “What’s wrong?” Horror writhed through my stomach.
He grabbed his temples, pain etched on his face as though his head was about to explode. Then he gulped in air, and his body went limp.
17
LAYLA
Iran through the building braless, my tits bouncing like basketballs and hurting like a bitch. I’d only had time to throw on my jeans and a sweatshirt of Sam’s I’d found on a chair in his room.
My heart was drilling a hole into my chest, and tears were pouring out. I had no idea where the heck I was going or what the fuck had just happened. I couldn’t wake Sam. I assumed when he’d come into the room that Dr. Vieira had allowed him to leave. Maybe not. Sam played to his own tune and wasn’t the type who listened well.
Breathe, girl. Stop right now and focus.
I slapped a hand on a wall in the stairwell, bent over, and gulped in stale air. I dashed away tears, trying to see my phone’s screen stuck in my sweaty palm. One of the few numbers I had was Dr. Vieira’s. Once I brought up his name, I tapped on it. The line rang and rang until his voice mail connected.
“Damn it!” I shouted out loud. “Answer the fucking phone.” My voice blared and echoed.
Dr. Vieira had spent so much time tending to Sam and me that he was probably dead to the world. After all, it was the middle of the night.
The only people in the building who were awake were in the control room, which I think was on the second floor, or maybe the first. I had no freaking clue.Note to self: memorize the layout of this maze when I have the chance.
Steven was in Boston. I would guess Jo and Webb were home tucked in until morning.
I vaulted down another flight of stairs, threw open the door to level two, and ran down the hallway. My breathing was erratic. My vision blurred, and I wanted to scream for help. The thought stopped me in my tracks. If my scream was as loud as the vampires claimed it to be, then someone in the building would hear me. Or… Harley. I could call Webb’s assistant. I found her number and banged on her name.Please, please, please answer.
“Hello.” Her sleepy voice lowered my pulse slightly.
“Harley, this is Layla. I need your help. Where does Dr. Vieira live? Sam passed out. Where does Jo live?” I’d been to Jo’s house, but for the life of me, I wouldn’t be able to find it at this hour or in my panicked state.
She cleared her throat. “Whoa! Slow down and tell me exactly what happened.”
“Sorry, there’s no time. I need medical assistance in Sam’s apartment. Stat.” I almost choked on my own spit. I sounded like an EMT, which was comical because my mind wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Harley, Sam’s apartment. Please. He needs help.”
