Chapter Fourteen

Emily woke up and immediately cuddled back into the strong arms holding her.

Strong arms holding her?

No one had ever held her, not since her mother left.

Simeon. It was Simeon. Because Simeon would do anything for her, and he wouldn’t care if he got hurt in the process. He’d take risks where he was sure he would get burned and smile at the pain.

The way he’d smiled a twisted little grimace when she bumped into him at the Night Market after their fateful kiss, the way they stopped and stared after she ordered him away—and he still smiled first.

More than that. He’d come toward her, hand out, a paper cup of coffee offered up to her. “Here.”

Just one little word. A quiet welcome, even after she’d thrown him out.

“You’re pretty unselfish for an evil guy, aren’t you?” And pretty. Pretty, pretty vampire.

“I thought you were awake. Good morning to you, too.” Simeon’s voice was low and soft in her ear, confusing her. It was sending “Gimme, gimme” vibes to her lady parts and comforting ones to her brain. If she had intended to sleep and pull herself out of the lustful mire of last night in the calm light of day, she had failed. Sexy and comforting was lethal catnip to her common sense.

“Morning.” Emily held still, not sure what to do next. She’d never been in bed with a man, never woken up beside one.

Her father, training her to look for a reliable mate to produce the next of the Van Helsings, had once told her she’d have to marry eventually, although he spoke of marriage with disdain, just another tool in their arsenal. Marriage meant reliable partners. Marriage meant someone to help with survival so the hunt could continue.

He told her men would want her for one thing.

In her head, she’d developed an aversion to touch while simultaneously craving it, a fear of intimacy while worrying she’d never experience it.

I don’t know what to do...

Emily licked her dry lips and pushed herself up on one elbow. Simeon rolled onto his back and looked up at her, arms crossed behind his head as he stretched. “Vampires don’t get morning breath.”

“No. And you don’t have it, either. You smell sweet as a daisy, so you can stop backing away from me like I’m going to cover my nose and act all dainty.”

She stopped moving.

I have a week, maybe the last week ever, with Simeon.

Maybe the only chance in the world to conquer my fears with someone I know doesn’t want to hurt me—as odd as that sounds.

But this can’t be our only chance, especially not if I—if we...

I have to make sure this isn’t the last week. Plan, fight, find!

And remember everything else you said last night? She blushed to remember her fevered ramblings.

“Go back to sleep. We’re gonna have to hit wherever good ol’ Uncle Zeus hangs out, and anywhere in the US, it’s daylight. It’ll be hours until we can travel. Go to sleep.”

She nodded and tried. Simeon tried. He closed his eyes. She peeped at him when she opened hers.

Once, they caught each other peeking at the same time. “Can’t you sleep? Hungry?” Simeon asked.

“No, but... you must be.”

When had the idea of getting bitten become erotic? Maybe because she knew it came with blood and violence, and that was more familiar than love and softness.

She knew biting. She knew the fight, the growl, and the moment of pain that made her woozy. Was there a moment past that one, one that led to pleasure?

Emily paused, feeling her pulse throbbing low down between her thighs. She watched Simeon as he watched her, both in silence, two hunters stalking unique prey.

We haven’t hurt each other. We give each other just what we want.

“I have a few bags of blood that I put in the mini-fridge. I’ll heat it up in the micro in a bit.” Simeon pressed pale knuckles to her cheek and then up, smoothing her sleep-mussed hair from her face.

Microwaved pig’s blood. That’s what he might have for his last meals on earth. That’s the reward a vampire gets when he decides to stop killing?

“You wouldn’t let me bite you. Not yet.” Simeon seemed to read her mind, answering her unspoken musings without meeting her eyes.

“I wouldn’t!” Even if I was thinking about it. I know it’s wrong. It’ll lead him back on a bad path. Right?

Even the voice in her head sounded doubtful.

“Exactly. Because you’ll get it twisted around. You’ll suddenly realize that the vamp has his fangs in you, and that’ll mean defeat, and something inside will break again. I don’t want that, Emily. I want you to be whole. Happy and whole. I don’t want to take away any of your pieces, love. I just want to share them with you. Only give you nice things, things that you feel good about. Things you don’t have to tie yourself up in knots over.”

That sounded so nice.

So easy.

She’d never understood easy.

“But you need to eat, and I have something you want. This is something I can give you,” she whispered. She rolled to a sitting position, reaching for the pants that were cast off by the bed. Knives, stakes, and holy water were always in her pockets. She took the small silver blade and pressed it to her arm without hesitation, mind cloudy.

I can give him something before he goes. In case he goes. At least I’ll have done one nice thing for him, after all he’s done for me.

As the pressure on her skin grew, it suddenly stopped.

The blade was gone. Simeon’s hand clamped down on her forearm, his eyes wide in shock.

“Huntress... You have so many more things to give a man. Your blood is far down on my list.”

This was a dream. It had to be a dream.

Good. Wonderful. All dreams should be like this.

He and Emily were kissing in a shirtless coil of warm skin and honey-scented hair, her pulse jumping against his chest.

But she didn’t make a move to undo his jeans or slide off the sweats she was using as pajama bottoms. Hmm, with Hades’ card, maybe they could both splurge on something silky. A robe and matching nightie for her, a smoking jacket for him. His mind wandered to the sight of Emily in a white peignoir, but he’d take her any way she came.

Came. Come.

That was the key. He wanted to gift her something, not just take. Emily thought giving her body to him was some sort of penance or obligation.

He wanted to turn that present around and give it back to her. And maybe...His creeping, cowering little self, the whipped cur that was still there under the strength and fangs, whispered, “Maybe if you show her what you can do, the things no one has ever done for her, she’ll stay. She’ll love you.”

“I can give you what you want. What you need. You just tell me, Emily.” He told his fangs to stay in hiding for another minute, even though the longer he kissed her beautiful, satiny throat, the more they twinged with hunger.

She answered in a gasp as his thumbs massaged the knots out of her spine.

Serve first. Worship. She’s a queen, my queen. She thinks she has to give me her body for my pleasure.

Oh, no. Her pleasure is my gift. If she cries out my name... That’s the jewel I’m after.

“You feel amazing.” Emily moaned and went limp across his chest, snuggling in deeper. She turned her head and nibbled his earlobe, kissed his jaw, hesitated, and then ran her tongue neatly over the faded white scar that Lilith had left so many years ago.

Pinball lights and flappers went on full alert, buzzing down to his cock. He lost his ability to massage for a second, just gripping, growling softly like some primal beast getting a tummy rub.

“Ooh. Someone likes that?” Emily laughed softly.

He so rarely heard her laugh. It lit him up inside like a hit of whiskey.

Before he could say how much, her lips sealed over the spot, worrying it and kissing his throat, sucking the bitten skin deep into her mouth as her hips wiggled against his.

It’s because she knows vampires. Knows what makes us tick. When she finds a weakness, she’ll exploit it.

God, yes, exploit me all you want, Huntress.

She needs to have the balance of power. That’s it. That’s why. She’s keeping you...

“You’re a natural at this, Emily. Gifted, and no I’m not lying or sweet-talking. You’d know.” A sharp, sweet gasp and her teeth marked his throat, a role reversal of the best sort. “Fuck.” Simeon’s vision went starry black when she clamped down softly, pressing her crotch to his, rubbing herself against him.

No. I don’t think it’s just power. If it were just power, she’d find another way. She’s letting you have your cake and eat it, too, Simeon. “Love you. Want you.” Was that his panting, ragged little voice?

“I’m here. We’re here, together.” Her whisper was hot against his ear.

Simeon’s hands moved from her back to her bottom, and then one moved between them, gently rubbing that hottest, softest spot. “Lemme make you feel good, Emily.”

She ground herself to his fingers, making him damp, even through the fabric between them. Her fingers, normally so expert, were clumsy and fumbled as they undid his fly, letting him free.

His eyes flared wide. She’s touching me. Emily’s fist is curling around me.

He was going to come in seconds if he focused on the miracle of her pleasuring him.

Better please her first.

“Simeon? What’s wrong?” Emily’s tone went from sleepy and sensuous to insta-panic when he pulled away.

She moves without fear—but part of it’s an act. Underneath the armor, there’s still some sad little lost girl. Everyone she loves leaves her. If we don’t find Persephone, I’ll be leaving her, too.

“Not a damn thing, Emily. Everything is perfect.” He answered in a firm voice and kissed her soundly on the lips, tongue darting against hers before he slid down her body.

Emily froze, but not in fear.

She’d been partially terrified the whole time, but she’d long ago learned to shut out the fright and fight anyway, believing she just had to go through the motions to survive and come out on the other end relatively unscathed.

But that was fighting, not making love.

This was so much more terrifying.

I’m a virgin. There’s going to be blood. Blood and vampires...

Her mind did a lazy wobble then righted itself as cool fingers, just room temperature, curled over her waistband.

Simeon’s pulling my pants off. Simeon’s kissing a trail from my ribcage to my private spaces. Private as in just for me.

Her head was back and her eyes were closed, almost afraid to look. Better to just feel.

The hunter in her forced her eyes open just in time to see Simeon lowering his open mouth to her mound.

The contact made her jump, but the way his lips instantly went to work had her squirming into his touch, not away from it.

“I’m going to give you kisses here. It won’t hurt. It’ll be very soft, and you’ll like it. If you don’t like it, then we don’t have to do it,” Simeon whispered, a finger gently tracing her thigh.

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to. I will never, ever ask you or force you to do anything you don’t like. Never ask you to do things I think you won’t enjoy,” he whispered.

Another shaky reassurance. “Okay.” It’s just kissing. It’s kissing where I’m supposed to have a man inside of me. It’ll be fine. I’ll just... Let him. It’ll be okay.

“No, baby. If it only feels okay, that’s not enough.” Simeon kissed her curls, and her body blushed from toes to torso. “It should make you feel loved. Treasured. And make you feel so good that you come all over my face.”

Silent staring as he inhaled, nose against her flat but soft lower abdomen. “You smell beautiful. Delicious. But not wet enough.”

She didn’t want to admit that she’d never given herself an orgasm. She didn’t want to admit that she’d tried a few times in the past few months, but intrusive thoughts always made her abandon the task.

“What about you?” she finally asked.

“Me? This is the best gift,” Simeon moaned when he kissed the skin of her inner thigh, working between her legs to where her pussy was covered with sparse reddish-gold curls.

Fashion magazines would shame her for her natural look, her bikini line that had clearly never seen a bikini. She shaved in the summer, but it was late fall, and—

“You’re so beautiful. I love every little curl. I love the way you look.” His kiss lingered. It aimed between her legs where her plump outer lips made a soft slit, hiding the pinkness inside. His tongue split that soft line and she shuddered as Simeon pressed firm fingers to the top of her pussy, massaging. “I love the way you taste. The way you feel. Oh, God, Emily...”

Her spine lost its metal, and she relaxed into the mattress as his mouth began to explore her.

“Oh. Ohhh, that’s nice. Oh, that’s really nice.”

“Good. I’m just going to stay on the outside until you tell me I can go deeper.”

Emily nodded, heart warmed with Simeon’s acknowledgment of her inexperience without making her feel that it was a big deal.

But in a short time, the outside wasn’t enough. She was bucking against his kisses and his tongue, a tight spiral of pain inside her pelvis crying out for relief.

Penetration.

Simeon didn’t have to force anything from her. She wasn’t worried about his enjoyment, either. He was moaning as he lapped and sucked, maybe moaning louder than her. His head was burrowing into her, his nose grinding against the spot above her clit, a spot that she would have to remember from now on. It was definitely a good place, a place that electrified her in the best possible way.

How did he know that?

And why did he sound so, so happy?

And who the fuck cared? “Yesss. Yes, like that!”

“You’re delicious. Fucking delicious, sweet pretty peach.” His fingers rubbed hard around her clit while licking and sucking her folds and the skin of her inner thighs.

A sensation bomb threatened to undo her. The pain of clamping walls and the fear of losing control made her gasp, “Need you in me.”

Simeon’s fingers gently obeyed, slipping in with a splashy wet sound that made her eyes widen. That was new. That level of wetness. The level of not thinking or caring.

“Nice and easy. So tight and sweet.”

Simeon’s fingers were gentle—gentle enough to confuse her. Make her feel... vulnerable. She wasn’t weak. She didn’t need him to show her mercy.

A dark cloud burst into her thoughts, her father’s matter-of-fact voice telling her that evil beings would torture and rape and she had to endure and fight. Pain was to be expected, along with misfortune and injury. What’s more, any pain and injury inflicted upon her was a sign of her failure and a just punishment. She wouldn’t get hurt—or worse—if she was following her training, if she was fighting hard enough.

That’s so wrong. That’s not true. It wouldn’t be my fault for letting it happen, it would be their fault for wanting to hurt me in the first place.

Even if this hurts, it’s okay, but it’s not... It's no one’s fault. And Simeon doesn’t want to hurt me.

“Emily? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. You don’t have to be careful.” It’s going to hurt. I’m used to being hurt. “More. Harder.”

“You can have it both ways, love. Careful and harder.” His eyes met hers from the supremely intimate place between her legs. “I know you’re a warrior, Em. You’re a woman, too. I can love both.”

Fuck, why was the vampire perfect?

Emily didn’t have time to worry about that paradox. Simeon thrust his fingers in harder, pressing up and dragging down, circling his tongue on her clit before sucking on her bead with a greedy groan.

She managed to open her eyes again, her brain buzzing in pre-orgasm and not quite able to understand what she was seeing. Pretty, handsome, blue-eyed Simeon... Suddenly, the eyes were dark red, and the shape of his face had hardened. His fangs were down.

She felt a familiar stab of adrenaline.

A growl, a purr, and a flash of fangs as he gripped her thigh in one hand and increased the tempo of the fingers inside of her. “This is where you come for me, Huntress.”

Crash. Boom. Burn. Pretty.

“Yes!”

She was coming. Coming on his hand, on his tongue, and he could feel it, the way the muscles went into a rapid pulsing flutter, the way her clit jerked in his mouth. If she’d been more relaxed, or he’d been better, he would guarantee that the virgin under him would become a bedroom goddess, an uninhibited hellcat who covered his face in juice as he made her squirt and soak the sheets.

One day. There would be a one day.

At her peak, his fangs flicked over the pulsing, pounding spot where her thigh met her torso, just the slightest pressure on the skin he was gripping, pulling taut until there was a shiny little cleft for him to visit. A sharp kiss, not a bite, and blood welled up. He sucked, fingers still busy inside, stealing a sip from her scrape without biting her.

He felt her little muscles go limp, quiver, and then rebound like a rubber band stretched back to its tautest point.

I’m two-for-two.

He continued to suck but was dimly aware that Emily was talking, pushing against him.

His fingers slid from her, blood on the tips.

His cock jumped.

He’d broken or at least damaged her hymen, but he hadn’t finished the job. Hadn’t taught her about the pleasures of being filled by someone who loves you.

“Hold still.” He heard from an endorphin, ambrosia-induced haze.

The world tipped and he was on his back, and Emily was over him.

She looked down on him for a long minute, hair falling around her face as she stared, shaking, blood on her thigh.

She’s going to stake me.

Emily clambered over him and then resettled.

“What? Emily?”

“Shhh.”

Another long stare down, and then her hot mouth sank down over his painfully hard cock.

Hades must be nicer than I thought. I died and went to heaven instead of Tartarus.