30. Luna

Chapter 30

Luna

L ucien offers to carry me back to the house but, despite him snapping the neck of his favorite security guard on my behalf, I can't allow him to.

I do not want to give in to the ache in my chest and the need to be close to him.

He hurt me. Not physically; he hurt me in a worse way than that. And I'm not just going to fall into his arms because he appeared from nowhere and played the hero.

After all, he only did it because he wants to keep me here. Right?

Walking beside me in the rain, Lucien's body is rigid, and his eyes focused ahead.

"I thought you liked him," I say, cradling my injured arm in front of me, trying to talk normally even though I'm shivering and I feel nauseous from the pain.

"Trent came to me as a pup. He has always been loyal. But I harbored no fondness for him." Lucien glances at me. "I made the rules very clear. I told him not to touch you."

"He unlocked my door. I'm not sure if he wanted to make it look like he'd found me escaping and brought me back, so you'd be pleased with him, or if he just wanted the thrill of the hunt."

Behind us, Lucien's dogs now pad along gently and calmly. Their snarls and barks are gone, and they seem more like pets than the vicious guard dogs that looked as if they would tear me to shreds if they caught hold of me.

Above, thunder booms and the rain intensifies. Lucien's hair is slick, water running down his face and tracing his chiseled features. He turns to me and folds his arms. "Would you please let me carry you back inside before you catch pneumonia?"

I look down at my bare feet. They are throbbing. Whatever I trod on earlier broke the skin and I know I'm still bleeding. My clothes are sodden, and I'm trembling. "All right. But not too fast. I already feel like I might throw up."

Lucien nods and gently lifts me into his arms. I wince as he accidentally brushes my injured shoulder, and he grimaces as though it hurt him too.

Inside, we do not go to my bedroom. Instead, he takes me to a door several feet down the hallway from the room I've been locked in for the past few days.

Lucien sets me down in front of the door and ushers me inside.

"Why aren't you taking me back to my own room?" I ask, lingering by the wall.

"Because your room is currently uninhabitable."

I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I lost my temper when I realized you were gone," he says, a little sheepishly.

As he moves, it's as if he's trying to do everything carefully and slowly so he doesn't startle me. This room is far more modern than the one I've been sleeping in.

The walls are a deep, matte black, broken only by large abstract art pieces in shades of grey and silver. The floor is polished concrete, cool beneath my bare feet, and a plush charcoal rug softens the space in front of an enormous bed.

The bed itself is a not the old fashioned four poster bed I've been using, but a low platform frame in dark wood, topped with sheets so black they seem to absorb light. The bedding looks sinfully soft, a mix of high thread count cotton and what appears to be silk.

Lucien strides over to the wall opposite the bed and presses a button on a small remote. A set of sleek black-out blinds raise up, casting interesting shadows across the room. When they are all the way up, a floor to ceiling window offers a panoramic view of the grounds, currently obscured by the night and the rain.

Lucien is standing by a minimalist desk of glass and chrome that sits in one corner. He is watching me carefully.

"This is your room," I say. It's not a question.

Lucien nods. "It is."

I try to fold my arms then remember how much my shoulder hurts.

"You're bleeding," he says as his tongue moistens his fangs. "I can taste it in the air."

"My foot." I gesture to my dirty feet. I'm still shivering.

"I'll run you a bath." He moves toward a large, frosted glass screen and I step sideways so I can see what's behind it. Of course, it's a sunken bathtub. Gloriously deep. He turns the taps and steam instantly fills the room. "Then I'll fix you up."

"Shouldn't we talk?" I sit on the edge of the bed, unable to keep standing for much longer.

"About?"

"The shadows." I tuck a strand of dripping wet hair behind my ear. "What they did when you rescued me."

Lucien's eyes flicker with those familiar red freckles. "You saw."

"Of course, I saw."

"You've seen them do that before? Move unnaturally? Do things they shouldn't?"

I bite my lower lip. "Maybe."

"We will talk," Lucien says dismissively. "But not now. First, we fix you."

He stands in front of me, then peels off his clothes. I try to look away but can't help the way my body reacts to the sight of him – naked, and damp, and beautiful.

Because that is the only word for it; beautiful.

When he drops his pants, I move closer and ask him to help me undress.

He unfastens my jeans, then stoops down as he eases them over my hips and helps me step out of them. My panties are next, and he pauses at the top of my thighs, his face tantalizingly close to my pussy.

Less than an hour ago, I hated him. I'd vowed never to talk to him again. To remember he's a liar, and a monster, and that he can't be trusted. But like this – close to him – I don't know how to resist him.

The memory of the way he spoke to me is fading. This seems like the real Lucien.

When Steven was nice to me, it was fake. It felt like a mask, a game, an act. I knew what lay beneath his smile. When my father treated me with kindness, it was because he felt guilty for hurting my mother or for shouting at me.

Their kindness was fake.

With Lucien, it seems the other way around; as if he's been trying to act like the big, tough vampire all this time when really he just wants to be loved.

I close my eyes and almost laugh at myself. For fuck's sake, Luna. Can you hear yourself?

When I open them, he is studying my sweater as if he's unsure how to remove it without hurting me. "Turn around," he says.

I obey him without hesitating, doing an excellent job of remembering that he is an evil monster who kidnapped me.

I feel his fingers on the hem of the sweater. They take hold of the fabric, then pull in opposite directions. Holy hell. He is ripping my sweater off me.

The sound of the fabric tearing makes me shudder and, slowly, my back is exposed. When the sweater is torn all the way from the hem to the neck, he eases it off my shoulders and over my arms.

Then he unfastens my bra and lets it fall to the floor.

Having him stand behind me, naked, his fingers on my skin, all I want to do is lean back against him and encourage him to cup my breasts with his large, strong hands.

I want to feel his thumbs on my nipples.

I want to lose myself in him and forget the way he looked at me in the pool, and the way Trent looked at me, and the sound his neck made when it snapped, and whatever the fuck happened to me when the shadows started to cocoon me as if I belonged to them.

Lucien moves away from me, and I hear him stepping into the bath. When I turn around, he's holding out his hand.

I take it and climb in, then he sits down and steadies me as I ease myself down into the water.

I don't resist him or ask him why he's sitting behind me; I just sink into him. I lean back and let him gently scoop water over my breasts and stomach.

A familiar scent fills the air. Blood. His blood. He has opened his wrist for me and is holding it to my lips. "It will heal you," he whispers. "Let me heal you."

I cradle his hand in mine, watching his blood drip into the bath and bloom like rose petals on the surface.

"I know you don't believe me, Luna, but all I want is your safety. It's all I've ever wanted."

"You're right," I answer him. "I don't believe you." But as he sighs and almost pulls away from me, I start to suck.

I seal my lips onto his wrist and suck his dark, deadly liquid into my mouth. With each drop that slides down my throat, the pain in my shoulder eases. The rest of the pain grows lighter too, quieter, softer.

My foot no longer hurts.

I am not exhausted.

But I am turned on.

I spin around and shift so I'm sitting in his lap, and our lips meet with a furious heat that makes me moan into his mouth. How have we missed each other so much when we have only been apart for a few hours?

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into my neck as he pushes my hair back over my shoulder. "I pushed you away. I was cruel. And I'm sorry." He sits back and meets my eyes.

And that is what makes him different. Because he apologized, and he means it.

I don't reply, just kiss him again and feel him begin to grow hard beneath me.

"Do you trust me?" he asks me the question for the second time.

His hands find my breasts and squeeze them lightly.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I wasn't. From the second I arrived here, I felt safe with you. But after the pool. The way you looked at me…"

Lucien looks genuinely wounded. He draws in a deep breath, then eases me off him and leverages himself out of the bath. He strides away from me, back behind the screen, his bare ass looking so delicious I can barely pay attention to why he's leaving or what he's doing.

I follow, grabbing a towel, and find him standing at his desk. He is facing away from me, and when he turns around, he's holding something in his hand.

"Is that a stake?" I ask, frowning.

"A silver stake." He weighs the object up and down in his palm. It glints in the dim light. Outside, it is still raining, and the storm is still rumbling. He walks over to me and presses it into my hand, then he moves to the bed and lies down on his back, arms spread out at his sides. "There is some rope beneath the bed," he says.

Not quite understanding what he is doing, I reach under the bed and pull out a metal box. I lift the lid and look inside.

Two large pieces of rope. "They're made of…"

"Silver."

Lucien nods at me. "Give them to me."

I do as he says. They are heavy and take some effort to lift.

He takes the first, and his palm sizzles as it meets with the metal. My eyes widen, but Lucien simply holds on tighter and lays the silver rope across his extended arm. It hisses louder. His skin reddens and bubbles beneath it. He grits his teeth and groans.

"Now, you do the other."

"You want me to…?"

"I will be unable to move," he says. "Unless you free me."

As I realize what he's saying, and that I'm holding a stake in my hand, something begins to fizz deep in my core. I bite my lower lip, then crawl on top of him, metal rope in one hand, stake in the other.

He smirks as he looks up at me. "Fuck, you look beautiful up there, kitten." His eyes graze my breasts, and my stomach, and my face. Gently, I lay the rope over his other arm. He winces and his skin starts to burn.

"It's hurting you…"

"Rather me than you," he says. "I'll heal."

I press my empty palm to his chest. I can feel his heart beating beneath my hand. Faster than a human heart. "What now?"

"Now, I'm yours. You can do whatever you like." He glances at the stake I'm holding then meets my eyes, his gaze full of dark, quivering sin. "You choose how you end me, kitten. With the weapon in your hand… or the heat between your legs."

As he speaks, wetness spreads from my pussy to the tops of my thighs. I am soaked already, and he hasn't touched me yet.

"I can smell your arousal," he growls. "Did you know that?"

My cheeks start to flush. "You smell delicious." He strains against the rope and his skin burns harder. "You taste delicious, too. So, why don't you come here and sit on my face. Let me worship my queen."

I push my fingers through my hair then take off my glasses. Arousal and embarrassment hum on my skin. I am too big for that. I'll crush him, surely.

As if he can read my mind, he says, "There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Luna. I want to taste you. I want to feel you on top of me. Owning me. Taking the pleasure you deserve."

My entire body ignites under the heat of his words.

"Now, turn around and take a seat, kitten. Let me lick you into oblivion while you hold that stake above my heart."

Still holding the stake, gripping it hard, I do as he says; I turn around and ease back until my thighs are either side of his face. I hover above him, but he growls, "Sit," and so I thrust down hard onto his lips.

As he seals his tongue over my clit, he groans loudly and mumbles something I can't hear because I'm groaning, too.

My pleasure builds and I lean forward, holding the tip of the stake above his heart. I have never felt so powerful. He's right; I could end him. Right now, I could drive his stake into his heart, and he would disintegrate beneath me.

He has given me more than an apology; he has given me the ultimate control over his body.

As moonlight shines through the window, illuminating us in an otherworldly glow, Lucien lavishes my pussy with his lips and tongue. Heat explodes like fireworks throughout my body as a white-hot ache builds between my legs. I moan and clench my thighs around his head as he increases the intensity of his attention, every flick of his skilled tongue sending me spiraling closer to the edge.

I drop the stake and arch forward, taking him deep into my mouth as he groans up into my pussy.

I suck hard, making him buck his hips into my mouth, and the sound of his pleasure merges with the sound of his pain as his skin strains against his restraints.

"Lucien," I moan around his cock. "I'm so close. Oh fuck, I'm so close."

His taste floods my tongue as I suck him even harder, and he groans louder. "That's it, kitten. Drain me. Take it all."

As I feel him stiffen, his cock twitching in my mouth, I pull away, drop the stake, and rip the ropes away from his hands, desperate for him to hold me.

I look down at his wrists. They are red raw and blistered. "You're hurt," I whisper.

"There's blood in the drawer." He gestures to the bedside table, but when I open it, there is nothing there.

I try the other. Nothing there either.

"I'll be okay." He reaches for me. "Come here and let me make you purr, kitten. You were so close."

"Not while you're hurt." I shake my head. Then I meet his eyes. "Use me."

Lucien's gaze darkens in an instant. "No."

I straddle him, his cock already hard again, pressing against my ass. "Use me," I say, scooping my hair back from my neck to expose what I'm certain is a delicious looking vein.

What am I doing? Why do I want to feel him pierce my skin so badly? Why does the idea of my blood in his mouth make pleasure skitter down my spine?

I lean over him, and slide onto his cock at the same time, holding my neck above his lips.

"Bite me, Lucien. Drink me."

A low, animalistic growl escapes his lips. He grabs hold of me, rough, large hands holding me still. And then there it is… the pain and the release. His fangs puncture my skin and as he sucks, and sucks, I thrust down onto him, slipping a hand between us so I can touch my aching clit.

My eyes flutter.

He is still drinking. I pull back a little, but he holds me tight.

My heart begins to pound wildly against my ribcage as panic sets in. What have I done?

Lucien stops abruptly and practically throws me off of him, jumping to his feet.

His lips and chin are stained with my blood. His eyes are dark, and his fangs are visible. He lunges at me, and before I can blink, he has me pinned against the wall, his forearms on either side of my head, his hips grinding into mine. "You taste so fucking good, Luna." He spins me around, licks a fast, furious line down my spine with the tip of his tongue, then drops to his knees.

"I don't know what I want more… your blood or your cunt."

Hearing that word on his lips makes me groan and jut my ass out toward him. Lucien holds onto my hips.

"Not your tongue. Your cock." I reach for him and drag him to his feet. "Fuck me." I look over my shoulder. "But fuck me like a vampire. Fuck me like you aren't afraid of hurting me."

His eyes flash. Pleasure rolls across his features and his breath hitches in his chest. "That's what you want?"

"That's what I want."

"Then you feed from me at the same time," he says. "So I know I won't hurt you."

He wraps a large, muscular arm around my chest, pressing it against my throat. Then he opens his wrist and presses it to my lips. At the same time, he slams into me so hard I think I'm going to go straight through the wall.

My eyes flutter closed. I cry out and his blood trickles down my chin onto my breasts. He uses it to moisten my nipples. His other hand is between my legs, and his cock is pounding into me from behind.

It is all happening so hard and so fast that I can hardly breathe.

Every thought disappears from my head. My vision blurs. The room becomes dark, and the darkness cocoons us both.

We are caught in a dark whirlwind of lust, and I cannot see any way to escape it. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Lucien has me, and I have him.

This is how it was meant to be.

Us.

Like this.

Forever.