22. Sammie

CHAPTER 22

SAMMIE

L ewis looks devastated as he moves to the opposite side of the bed, putting space between us.

No, no. Please. This is what I wanted.

I scramble across the bed, grabbing his face with both my hands. "Hey." I run a thumb over his lips. My finger comes back reddened with my own blood.

"I—" His gaze drops to my neck. A small trickle of warmth still moves down my skin. I move my hair away from my neck and tilt my head to expose the bite.

"If you need it, take it."

His dark eyes find mine. "No."

The word is no more than a breath.

"Please, I won't break. You won't hurt me, I promise."

"How do you know that?" He flings his focus back to mine.

"Because you value my life over yours. You have since the day we met."

He looks surprised. Surprised I noticed? Or surprised it's the truth?

"Listen to me. The only thing that could kill me right now would be you not wanting me. That's it. You not wanting me the way I want you would actually kill me." I push off the bed and straddle his lap, knees digging into the soft mattress either side of him. His eyes follow me as I get closer, moving into the right place.

"You have done so much for me. I want to make you happy, Lewis."

"And you think this will make me happy?"

I line his hardness up with my center.

"I know this makes you happy," I whisper and sink onto his lap. He groans, hands snapping onto my hips.

"God, Sunshine. You are fucking perfect." His head falls back, eyes closing, his entire body tensing. He is big and hard, and the stretch takes my breath away. I gasp.

With my hands on his face, I pull him back down to me and cover his mouth with mine, forcing it open and claiming his mouth with my tongue. His fingers dig into my hips.

He leans back, opening his eyes. Concern twists his gorgeous face. "Too much?"

"Lewis," I whimper. My mouth waters; it's too much and not enough. The tension builds in my core, heat balling low in my belly, sensitizing every inch of me again. I arch my back, and his teeth find my nipples. A breathy moan spills from my chest. Lewis thrusts upward, hard. I tighten around him. I try to think of anything else, praying I don't explode around him too soon.

I rise from his lap, slowly. His fingers dig painfully into my skin. I push a wall of air against him, not sure if I can hold it in place like this. He pulls his head back. His eyes are completely black. A growl leaves his throat.

I channel everything I have into the wall of wind keeping us apart. His grip on my hips tightens further. I cry out.

"Lew—"

His crushing grip loosens for a moment before returning with more force. I can't leave. I can't get off his lap. I try to pry his fingers from my hips. Nothing. I grab his face and press my forehead to his.

"Lewis, you're hurting me," I sob.

His hands leave my hips, grabbing me under the arms. He pulls me off him, lifting me from the bed and slamming me into the wall. The joining—only the strongest of witches have survived this.

Holy shit.

His hand wraps around my throat. His body crushes mine into the wall. I dig deep for my only defense. I want this. I want him. There is no way his instincts will be the end of me. That would be the end of him .

I push both palms into his chest and channel the harshest wind I can muster. He buffers against it before we settle into a rhythm. His darkened gaze greys and he settles. I slide one hand from his chest and cup his jaw, which is set in stone. He flinches.

"Sammie," he chokes. The feral haze that had his features trapped disintegrates.

"Still here," I whisper.

His chest heaves; his face falls. I slam my mouth over his, and he closes the space between us. He sobs into my mouth, and I pull him into my arms.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine."

"I'm not."

He pulls away, eyes scanning every inch of me, as if trying to see the damage he caused. His gaze lingers on my bruised hips for a moment. Ten fingertip-shaped purple contusions are littered over my reddened skin. He stares at them, wide-eyed, before tracking his way over my chest, arms, neck, and face.

"We don't have to?—"

"Yes, we do." I caress his horrified face with my thumb, cupping his jaw. Letting my hand slip, I drag it over his chest, and rest my palm over his heart until it settles. He sinks his head into my hair and pulls me into him. I dot kisses over his chest, working my way up to his neck and then finding his mouth with mine.

He kisses me back with the fury of a man who has waited over three hundred years for this. I open my mouth, and he claims it. His hands sweep under my ass, lifting me onto his hips. My back presses into the wall again as Lewis brushes his knuckles over my apex.

"Please, Lew," I breathe.

"Sammie," he rasps.

"Mhmmm?"

"You have no idea how much I have needed you since the day we met."

"I have some idea."

He leans back and catches my gaze, tilting his head.

"I wasn't exactly indifferent to you, either." A cheeky smile grows over my face, and I bite my bottom lip.

"I was more than interested, Sunshine," he growls.

"Oh?"

"The day in the lecture hall when you thought I was having an episode." He nips kisses up my neck.

"I remember," I say, moaning the words.

"My bond snapped"—he lifts his head and presses his forehead to mine—"with you."

I flatten against the wall, mouth agape, eyes wide, sliding down the wall a little way.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be your choice."

"It is my choice. You are my choice."

He smashes his mouth over mine and hoists me higher up the wall. He breaks away, his megawatt smile lighting up his face and eyes. "Now that makes me happy, Sunshine."

"Good to know." I laugh, and he lowers his mouth to my breasts, rolling the peaks through his teeth.

A breathy, high-pitched moan cascades from my lips. He growls, sending vibrations through my chest.

His hand trails down my stomach, his finger gliding over my apex before sinking into my wet heat.

"Sunshine, you're driving me insane."

I buck my hips off the wall as he rubs the sensitive bud, swirling his fingers inside me. Absolutely desperate for him inside me, for his heat, the stretch, the fire in my core he brings, I lift his head and kiss his mouth, hard.

"Please," I breathe, breaking away from the kiss.

"You don't have to beg, Sammie. You can have anything you want."

Every single too-shallow breath burns. "I want you."

"You have me."

He nudges my entrance, my only warning before he thrusts into me, hard.

The stretch and heat are delicious.

Whimpers turn to moans.

He nips my neck, one hand tweaking my peaks and crushing each breast. This man is my own heaven. His body starts to shake, his touch roughening.

"Sammie," he growls into my neck.

"Still here," I moan.

He pulls his head up. His eyes are black again, his canines descended. I throw the wall of wind between us. Lewis struggles to fight off the instinct driving him. I can't even imagine how hard it is for him.

His movements grow harder, rougher. I spiral higher and higher with each one, heat coiling in my center until my body explodes into a million tiny glittering pieces. I turn my head to the side. Each breath carries a moan, every thrust splintering me and sealing me back together. God, he really is my heaven.

I turn my head back. Lewis's gaze is feral again. His lip is curled up, his fire-laced eyes focused on my throat. I sweep the volume of curls from my neck with one hand and tilt my head, holding his gaze.

"It's okay, take what you need."

He grunts, glancing at my face.

"No," he growls. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

His gaze turns desperate.

"Lewis."

He shakes his head violently.

"It's okay," I say softly.

He takes up his rhythm again, and his head lolls forward. "God, Sunshine."

With every thrust, I spiral again. His mouth finds my chest, nipping the flesh of my breast, sucking each peak.

"Lewis." His name is a plea.

"Come for me, Sunshine."

I still and grab his face with my hands. "We go together."

He shakes his head again. I rest my hands on his chest.

"Why?"

"I won't have any control if that happens."

"I do." I slide my hand from his chest and raise a palm, letting flames burst from my skin and dance over my hand. Watching the flames flicker, his mouth pulls into a smile at one side. Seeing him smile will never get old. He drags his focus from my palm to my face. "Fire didn't work last time, remember?"

"Then I'll drench you again if you get out of hand."

"Fine." He winks at me and dips his head to my chest again. "Nice knowing you, Sunshine."

His tongue flicks over my peaks.

Oh god.

He thrusts upward without restraint.

Oh, my fucking, god.

His low growl brings me back to the moment. Breathless, every inch of me buzzing from the intense pleasure I'm riding, I drag my focus to his face. Gorgeous is an understatement. His dark brown eyes penetrate mine.

He slams a hand above my head and picks up the pace. I spiral for a third time and explode around him, tightening hard and fast, matching him.

Lewis roars. His canines descend, quickly. I shove the wall up and send it around my body, cushioning me from the hard cabin walls. His hips slam into mine. He grabs my hair and pulls my head to the side, sinking his teeth into my neck. I gasp and whimper as the skin burns with the punctures.

He stiffens, but drinks.

Good man.

I slacken against the wall, shield still up. He swallows mouthful after mouthful. My head lightens and I tap his shoulder.

"Lew."

He doesn't respond. My eyes feel heavy. I raise a hand toward the bathroom, pulling water toward us. The pipework rattles again. I wait for the water to slam into us.

Nothing.

Shit.

I try again, digging deeper.

Pipework squeals and a gush of water flies toward us. It hits us, soaking our hair, running down our faces, necks, and chests.

Lewis doesn't respond.

Pinpoints of light creep into my vision. Too much. He is taking too much.

"Stop, Lewis, please stop." I trace a hand over his neck.

Mine burns.

"Lewis."

My head lolls to the side and his snaps up. My blood coats his mouth and teeth and runs down his throat.

"Fuck, Sammie. Fuck! No."

His hands grab my face, and we slide to the ground in a heap.

Darkness swallows me whole.

T rembling fingers sweep across my forehead and run through my hair, over and over. Daylight penetrates my eyelids, and I open them. Blinded, I raise a hand to shield my eyes. Everything is too bright. Something thuds onto my chest. I look down. The ruffled blond hair of Lewis rests on my chest. He grips my hand with one hand and the bed with the other.

I pull in a long breath. Everything feels normal. Except for the sledgehammer lodged in my brain. Ouch. I swallow. My throat is so dry, my tongue almost gets stuck to the roof of my mouth.

"Hey," I rasp.

Lewis pushes up from the bed. Redness lines his brown eyes, grey bags hovering below. He brushes his knuckles across my jaw. "Hey, Sunshine."

I sit up and he backs up, making room. "What happened?"

He closes his eyes and shudders through a breath. "I lost it."

"That's not how I remember it. In fact, I think we found it. Three times." I push up a cheeky smile, desperate for him to not hate himself right now.

He shakes his head. "No, Sammie. It's not funny."

"Says you." I pick at the blanket over my lap. "Will that happen every time?"

"The first time is the hardest." His face is stone. I hope he means there will be a next time.

"Are you hungry?"

"How long was I asleep?"

He runs a hand through his hair and grips the back of his neck before meeting my gaze. "A day and a half."

"Holy shit," I say, regretting my words with the next breath. "It's fine. I practically begged you to bite me. I was not an unwilling participant."

He stares at me for a moment before standing and walking to the kitchen. I stare out the window, watching rays of sunlight dazzle their way through the trees of the piney Alaskan forest, piercing the air and through even the slightest gap between the trees and undergrowth. It is perfectly natural. It's what happens.

It's the natural world. Just as the cheetah drains the life from its prey's eyes. The way we turn to dust when dead and buried, to feed the natural world above us from the depths of the warm earth's embrace. That's the way it is supposed to be. If it happens easily, without interference, it is what is supposed to happen. It's Mother Nature working her magic.

Like a mating bond between a three-hundred-year-old vampire male and a witch. Our connection was fabricated; it existed long before I was born. The thoughts snap from my mind, as if a teacher had slammed a book shut. A premonition or a warning? Grandmother used to get snippets of information or visions. Maybe it was that. If so, this bond we have been given is a gift. Not an abomination. How could anything this beautiful be wrong?

How can Lewis and me be wrong? Unconventional, maybe; but wrong?

Never.

He has lived three hundred years trying to be the good guy in a world of monsters. Who takes care of him? Who defends Lewis?

I straighten in bed; the revelation hits me like lightning.

I do.

I crawl out of bed and pad to the kitchen. I'm in my PJs, socks on, pants tucked in. I laugh at the sight. Lewis is whisking eggs in a glass bowl. He sprinkles in herbs and twists the pepper grinder twice over the bowl. I jump up and sit on the counter, regretting it as my brain slams against my skull. He looks at me, a soft smile on his face. But it doesn't reach his eyes. Those are still laced with guilt and sadness.

I rest a hand on his, and he stops whisking.

"Come here," I whisper.

He slides sideways, and I trap him between my legs, pulling him in close.

His head falls to my chest, and he releases a strangled moan. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, look at me."

He doesn't move. I lift his head with my hands and kiss his mouth.

"You are not the bad guy, you hear me?"

"Sammie, I?—"

"Uh-uh. Nope. You waited three hundred years for this. I am not letting you lose it. Ever."

He huffs through a strangled laugh, and it turns to a sob. His brows lower, and he composes himself.

"What if I can't stop next time?"

"I think we got through the toughest part."

"We should be, but"—he glides his thumb over my lips—"are you sure you want this?"

I study his face. His brown eyes sink into my soul. His hands grip my heart, holding it, wrenching tight and caressing it at the same time. I try to imagine what it would feel like to live without this. An ache bursts in my chest and my throat closes over. His eyes narrow, pain gripping his features.

I shake my head.

He goes to step back, and I grab him, holding him where he stands. Swallowing back the sobs clawing their way up my throat, I blink, and tears burn down my cheeks. "I can't live without this."

His face softens.

"I can't live without us, Lewis."

He moves into my space, running a hand behind my neck. His mouth hovers near mine. "Nor can I, Sunshine."

His phone vibrates on the bench beside us.

Denver.

God, I hope he found the cure for the curse.

Please, let him have found it.