Page 90 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
The faintest of smiles crosses my face. This is the third time she's unconsciously trusted me. She’s giving in bit by bit, and she admitted she was mine.
I still have a little more work to put in to ensure she truly means those words. She was caught up in the moment. I want her to say them to me when she's not riding my dick. I want her to admit in front of Grayson and Colt that she's mine.
The curve of my lips deepens into a snarl. Those fuckers will hate me for this.
I don't give a damn.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Demi
The next morning, I wake up and find Mateo gone. He didn't leave a note. I don't remember him saying goodbye. I'm a little miffed about being left alone like a one-night stand, but I am in his suite and he can't have gone far.
I take my time getting ready, showering and changing into one of his shirts sans underwear. I'll have to go to my room to get a change of clothes. I'm not looking forward to that walk of shame. Maybe I can get Grayson to grab some for me.
I'm searching through Mateo's cabinets when I hear the elevator ding. I gently shut the door and reach for a chef's knife, hefting it over my shoulder. When the vampire rounds the corner, I throw it. The point sticks into the wall two feet in front of him.
Mateo lifts his eyebrows and stares at the knife. "Good morning to you too."
"You left," I say, pointing a finger at him. "Never leave a woman you want to keep happy alone in your bed without saying goodbye."
The aroma of rich coffee fills the air and I drop my gaze to what he's carrying. I recognize the cup—it's the same roaster Evelyn went to when she tried to befriend me.
"What's that?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
Mateo rips the knife from the wall and shakes his head, turning to face me. "I brought you coffee." His eyes trace over his shirt, stopping where it hangs loose over my bare thighs.
Well, in that case maybe I'm not mad at him. Not that angry anyway. He still should have told me something instead of letting me wake up and wonder what the hell I did wrong and why he left.
He prowls toward me, stabbing the knife into his butcher-block table in the middle of the kitchen, and setting the cup down next to it.
I take a step back, bumping into the counter. His arms come to rest on either side of me and his eyes darken from brown to black.
"I thought the coffee was for me," I say, trying to break through the tension.
"It is, but first, I want you to kiss me."
I lift an eyebrow. "If you wanted a kiss, you should have taken it."
He tsks. "No, I want you to kiss me."
Ah. A test?
Whatever, if it gets me coffee, I'll kiss the obnoxious beast. I lift up on my toes and brush my lips over his. Then I use my supe speed to race under his arm and snatch the cup off the table. Mateo grabs my waist two seconds after I grab the cup and unceremoniously sits me on the table, pressing between my thighs.
I glare at him and take a sip, not caring how fucking hot he is when he manhandles me. His tattooed hands rub over my bare thighs.
"I don't care how nice your cock is, nothing beats coffee."
His nostrils flare and his lips quirk. "Oh yeah?"
I nod and take another sip of the delicious latte. Damn, this is good. I need to go to this shop and buy a bag of beans for my apartment.
While I've been busy savoring the coffee, Mateo's dropped to his knees.
"What are you doing?"
He gazes up at me, yanking on my legs and pulling me to the edge of the table. I use one hand on his shoulder to keep from falling off.
