Chapter Twenty-Four

Is having a penis fun? It has its ups and downs.

The days back in Oliver's fortress passed slowly. Holding her in his arms until he could safely deposit her in his home had offered both strength and comfort to her, literally healing her while he gave her energy that food and drink couldn't provide.

Eva wanted to thank all those involved in tracking and rescuing her, but they all melted away before she could gather her thoughts and wits. Arriving back at Oliver's home had felt like coming home again, but it was much quieter than before. Doors shut with a whisper, rooms emptied quietly when she entered them. In fact, outside of Oliver's housekeeper and Delta, who had performed an oddly quiet but thorough exam of Eva before leaving for her own apartments, only one young wolf had approached her at all.

He'd pressed a cup of coffee into her hands, whispering, "I made you this,"

"Sit," she patted the seat next to her whispering the words hopefully.

The youth shook his head negatively. "He says you need quiet and rest," before smiling sadly at her and slipping from the room without another sound.

The coffee was sweet, too sweet, and the espresso tasted burnt, but she drank all of it anyway. It may have been the best cup she'd ever had. Before she'd been taken, the young man had been one who had lined up daily, joking and jostling in line to get his own too sweet beverage made by Eva. When Sebastian and Ravyn had returned to the west coast, the young wolf had pleaded to stay longer. After a day, she no longer saw him at all either, and she couldn't bring herself to ask where he'd gone. Perhaps he too had moved on and was now on the west coast with the others on Ravyn's security team. Eva hadn't asked; there was no one to ask.

Delta had vanished as well, only a quickly sprawled note that had appeared next to Eva's morning coffee letting her know that the witch was taking a few days off to recuperate. Unsigned, it could have been left by Oliver, housekeeping, or Delta herself.

Now the house echoed with the quietness of a tomb. Ironic, considering its owner was a vampire, she supposed. She floated from room to room like a wraith, searching for signs of life, which seemed to avoid her at all costs. Rooms in which the occupants would silently melt away left her feeling unseen and avoided. Nights blended into days, and by keeping the blinds drawn, she often remained uncertain which was which.

So, she worked.

Someone kept her laptop fully charged, and so she typed and typed, blending a story that belonged both to her and another. Blurring the lines between what happened to her and what happened to book Fala Ishto. Her own kidnapper, torturer, and tormentor became a storybook caricature destined to be defeated by Fala's great love interest, finally giving the heroine the happily ever after she deserved. The fairy tale romance that seemed to elude Eva was given freely to Fala. The words poured out, a balm that left Eva feeling raw and exhausted at the end of each writing session. She often fell asleep at a table or on the sofa with laptop in hand, waking up back in her bed or sprawled on the sofa with a blanket tucked around her and her laptop being charged, ready for its next palliative session.

The clothes Oliver had purchased for her that fateful day had been washed and placed in drawers in the room she returned to. More had joined them, soft lounge pants that she paired with tee shirts and changed each time she showered, which happened every few hours. Memories of the dank, dirty basement sent her straight to the shower. Flashes of the spittle dripping onto her face from the rancid breath of the scraggly-haired witch sent her to the shower. Phantom twinges from the magic being torn from her soul sent her into the hottest bath she could stand just to warm up. She scrubbed until her skin became raw and red before donning clean clothes until another whisper sent her into a panicked shower or bath, once again determined to scrub the sins from her skin.

She sat now at yet another meal while Oliver paced around her, sipping from a crystal glass, watching to make certain she took more than a few bites. Eva wanted to tell him she wasn't broken, but her mouth couldn't form the words. She couldn't trust herself to believe the words. Maybe she was broken. Maybe she'd always been broken.

Setting her fork down while Oliver eyed her every movement like the predator he was, Eva chokingly whispered, "I'm sorry." Despite his supposed enhanced hearing, he only blinked slowly at her, so she cleared her throat before forcing the words out more loudly. "I said. I said. I'm sorry."

Oliver stopped his pacing to stare at her. Teeth clenched; his hands tightened around the glass to the point she was afraid he would break it. Instead, he turned and threw the glass against the wall behind him. Eva couldn't help letting out a shriek and jumping as the glass crashed into the wall, shattering and letting the thick, red liquid ooze down the wall. The fury in his face was instantly replaced with regret as he took a step toward her.

Frozen, her heart pounded rapidly against her chest as he stopped well away from her before sorrowfully pushing a hand through his hair. "No, no, no, no, nononono," he muttered. "This is not on you."

Tentatively taking two short steps in her direction, Oliver stopped and held up both hands when Eva felt herself retreat deeper into her chair. "You have nothing to feel sorry for . . . None of this was your fault. I'm the one who is sorry." His face crumbled. "I'm so damn sorry."

Biting her lip, Eva waited. What could he possibly be sorry for? Oliver had saved her. Saved her and the young hellhound. She liked to imagine Baby Boy snuggled close to his mama and family, warmed by them and the brimstone they slept on, nothing lingering in his memory of the cold and pain that had been inflicted on him. As bad as her torture had been, she liked to imagine that she'd had a part in saving him. Like lightning, the thought struck her. Perhaps that was Oliver's hope for her. Despite it not being his fault, maybe he wanted to also vanquish the unseen injuries and heart-stopping fears but didn't know how?

Shaking his head, he continued, "No, don't make me into some sort of hero. A necromancer questioned that depraved nob. You were a means to an end. You were standing between him and his Queen Ravyn. Not that the damn thing gave many straight answers. He'd spelled himself to only spout death and destruction along with adoration for his queen. The creature was insane, and it's due to my world that you were caught up in his insanity."

This time shaking her head vigorously, Eva argued, "No one is responsible for that. Ravyn literally saved my life. If I have a choice between death and facing life no matter how hard it is, I will always choose life. One could argue that I'm a weakness for Ravyn, that I put her life in danger by existing when all she wanted to do was help some poor, near dead child."

Standing and pushing herself up and away from the table, this time causing Oliver to stumble back, she added, "No one, and I mean no one, is responsible for what happened except for those bastards who are, in fact, responsible. And since no one has bothered to ask me about anything, I can tell you that he wasn't working alone. He may have called Ravyn his queen, but he also answered to a master."

"Oliver," she pleaded, "I wish we could go back to how we were before. I wish we could laugh and watch movies together. I wish you could tell me about your day. I wish you wouldn't look at me like I'm broken or falling apart."

She took a few steps closer to him. "I wish I knew that what I felt for you was real. I wish I knew it wasn't one-sided. I wish we could just have a chance." Looking at him across the room, she begged him to understand. The air slowly escaped her lungs before she admitted, "I would love to have seen where we could've gone. But I refuse to be a supporting character in my own life. I deserve to be the main character, but I can't be if this is how things are. I just can't be."

In a blink of an eye, Oliver had crossed the space that separated them, as Eva's heart pumped wildly.

"It's not too late, is it?" he asked, his voice gentle and vulnerable, his earnest, open expression breaking her heart again. But the hope in his voice reflected the hope she felt in heart. "I couldn't protect you from any of this. I should have been able to, but I couldn't and I didn't. I don't even know how you can look at me with everything you've faced. All I've done for you is let you down."

"You stupid, stupid man," Eva whispered, closing the distance between them.

Main character vibes,she chanted to herself, squashing the fear that rippled through her body. Before she could talk herself out of it, she held his head in both hands as his anguished eyes met her. Pulling downward, she saw the look change to surprise as she smashed her lips against his, the tightness in her chest easing for the first time in days.

It only took a second before his lips turned soft against hers, matching the intensity breath by breath as she held his face gently against hers. His strong hands went to her sides, pulling her hips invitingly against his own, allowing her to melt into him.

Finally,floated through her mind as she opened her lips, darting her tongue out, inviting—no, daring him closer.

With a growl, he lifted her up, pulling her even closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the heat rise through her core and move into her lower stomach, urging him closer still, her soft, thin pants hardly a barrier between them.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered against her even as she sought to draw him closer, feeling his need snapping through the air, flitting upon her face, teasing her with the desire that was so near.

"You can't," she said as her body demanded he come closer still. "I need you to . . ." Overwhelmed by the intoxication of his desire, Eva could barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. "I need this."

"I want to fuck you until you scream," Oliver admitted as his tongue drew along the throbbing artery of her neck. "And when you get off, I want to bite you right here." He kissed the precise spot as Eva moaned, basking in the energy of his desire swirling about her, just waiting to be fed upon.

Eva leaned back, pushing her heat against him as he groaned, readjusting his grip on her hips to keep her core as close to him as possible. Frantically, she tugged his shirt up over his head, pulling down one arm and then the other until he stood bare-chested against her.

"I need you now." The floodgates, now open, had Eva begging him for what she needed.

"Not here . . . a bedroom," he gasped out between peppering kisses along her neck and face.

In the blink of an eye, Eva found herself lying on his bed while Oliver stood between her legs, gazing down on her with drunken, lust-filled eyes. She was doing that to him.

A pleased, powerful feeling passed through Eva at knowing that his desire matched hers. His body was a work of art, lithe and lean, marred only by a small pucker of scarred skin just to the right of his heart.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered lowly.

Eva scrambled to comply, tossing the offending article to the side as soon as she pulled it over her head. As his eyes darkened throughout, she slowly and lazily reached down to unhook the front clasp of her bra. Removing it slowly as she covered her full, heavy breasts with one arm, wiggling the bit of satin and lace off her shoulders, she watched him watching her like she was prey.

She released her full breasts from the safety of her arms and they bounced slowly down, tightened heavily under the heat of his gaze. Eyes completely black now, he looked down at her as she cupped her breasts with each hand, offering them up to him. "Like this?"

Whose husky voice dripping of sex was that?

Nodding, his chest tightened as he reached once again for her hips, this time sliding the soft leggings off and down her legs to her feet, leaving her exposed to him. Slowly, she lifted one foot out and then the other, making certain not to cover her sex, her desire for him, as it grew wet and fragrant under his dark gaze.

Her eyes dropped to his sweatpants, which grew tighter as he feasted his eyes upon her, taking in all of her without touching her. "I want to remember this moment forever," he admitted, flashing a hint of growing fangs at her as well.

Releasing her breasts, Eva ran her hands slowly down her body, watching his reaction as she imagined it was him touching her. Running her hands down her hips, barely brushing her mound, she pushed her own thighs apart.

"Promises were made, vampire." Her voice sounded strange and heavy to her, and she drew her hands back up her thighs, stopping before they would have touched the spot crying out for his attention.

Pushing his own pants lower on his hips, he slowly dropped them, his cock jutting out toward her at attention. Stepping out of the pants in a slow, fluid moment, he dropped his hands to her wrists, leaning deep between her legs hanging helplessly off the bed. Pinning her body with his own hard body, he pushed her hands above her head.

"Don't move them," he warned as the heat of his body sent pulses of desire through her body wherever he touched.

Nipping at her lip, he rewarded her with a kiss as she complied with a soft moan. Oliver moved down her body, dragging his heavy cock slowly down her body, followed by his mouth, showering each puckered nipple with his mouth until they tightened with sensitivity, blowing on each one softly before moving on down to her waist. She arched her back, trying to force more contact. With a low laugh, he pressed her stomach gently back onto the bed with a soft touch. "In good time, love."

Moving down, he pulled her legs up and with her knees over his shoulders, he dipped in gently between her legs, as she continued to arch up toward him, frantic with need.

"Bunny, if you knew how good you smell to me," he whispered, his breath just catching the edge of her dripping sensitivity as she cried out, wanting to beg him for more. "Vanilla and lavender are my two favorite plants now."

Grasping her hands together over her head, Eva forced herself to not grab him and pull him closer even as her hips bucked closer to his awaiting mouth.

"So beautiful, my impatient one." He gazed at what she felt was her own dampness down her leg. "You will scream so beautifully, and no one will hear you."

"Please . . ." she begged. "Please . . ." as his hot breath continued to caress and promise her things to come.

"Of course, since you asked so sweetly. How can I refuse? When you beg for my cock—and you will beg me for it—I will fill you so full you'll forget all those cockless fuckers from the past. You'll beg for my cum to fill you over and over, until it drips out of you," he promised her as he lowered his mouth on her wet, aching need.