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So, as Jesse and I leave them to get settled in their private room on the same floor as ours, I’m not surprised to hear Bernadette chanting in a strange language––Latin, maybe?––as we head back to our room. She must be casting a spell to protect the room from unwanted guests…at least, that’s what I would do, were I a witch in a house full of vampires.
Once we’re back in our room with the door firmly closed, I sit on the edge of the bed and meet Jesse’s thoughtful gaze.
“Do you think they’ll be safe here?”
“I hope so,” he says, shaking his head. “We have a traitor in our midst, and not knowing who it is puts us at a distinct disadvantage. I am having a hard time accepting that one of our own is complicit in the attempt on my father’s life. If Bernadette can’t reverse the spell, the culprit may very well succeed. I have no idea what will happen if they do.”
“You will become king,” I say softly, my heart skipping to a faster beat as the words pass my lips. “Which means you’re in danger, too.”
He walks toward me quickly, dropping to his knees before me and taking my hands in his. Leaning forward, he presses a light kiss to the knuckles on each one while keeping his gaze locked on mine.
“I know there’s a threat, whereas my father did not.” One corner of his mouth lifts before dropping. “No witch will have the opportunity to cast a lethal spell on me, as they did my father.”
“There are other ways to kill a vampire, Jesse.”
Though I don’t know all of the possibilities, I do know they exist. Like being bitten by a werewolf.
Jesse pushes himself to his feet and, pulling me up, leads me into the bathroom before closing the door behind us. My heart flutters as images of what we’ve done in this room flash through my mind, but Jesse has other plans. Flipping down the lid of the toilet, he motions for me to sit. When I comply, he paces before me.
“Vampires can exist for thousands of years. We know that, because since we were created by the witches, not one of us has died from natural causes…yet. We don’t know, for sure, if there’s an expiration date on our lives, but if there is, it’s a very long one. Unless, of course, the vampire finds his or her mate and loses them.”
I bite my tongue against the questions that are trying to pop out. I can feel the weight of importance in his words, and I don’t want to distract him while he considers what to tell me next.
“Over the centuries, witches have created spells to incapacitate my kind, like the one my father suffers from. Though I’ve never seen anything like this one, I have seen vampires be rendered immobile, left to desiccate from a lack of blood nourishment. And, of course, I told you about the werewolves and the consequences of their bite.”
I nod when he pauses, and he leans against the wall beside me. He stares at me for a long moment, then dips his chin as if making a decision.
“A wooden stake through the heart will turn a vampire to dust. That legend is true. Being staked anywhere else will cause immeasurable pain and slow us down, but we will heal from it, eventually. Garlic and holy water have no effect on us, and neither does being faced with a cross or being shot by silver bullets. Silver bullets will kill a werewolf, but so will regular bullets, if they hit the right spots. They are living beings, after all.”
He gives me a sad smile, a reminder that he’s not technically a living being. I shake my head slightly. I don’t care about our differences. We love each other, and the fact that he’s revealing his greatest weaknesses tells me he trusts in that love–and me––implicitly.
“The only other way to end a vampire’s existence is by beheading one. That is a wound from which we cannot heal.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I whisper when he stares at me silently for several beats.
“I told you to ease your fears,” he says. “Though we can be killed by those means I described, it is damn near impossible to do so. With our elevated senses, it is extremely difficult to get close enough to a vampire to inflict the damage needed to kill us. We are too quick to catch should we flee. We are too strong to best should we fight. If a vampire were to wield a stake against or attempt to behead another, he or she takes a great risk at being killed, themselves. It rarely happens. That’s why the vampire assisting the witches is using subterfuge instead of simply attacking him, outright. He’s among the strongest of us. He would kill anyone who attempted it.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I am his heir. I was created of his blood, and through that blood, inherited his strength and speed. You don’t have to worry about me, Eden.”
Taking my hands, he pulls me to my feet and into his arms. His mouth seals over mine, and I melt into his embrace as he kisses me hungrily. I grip his hair, tugging the strands to pull him closer and increase the pressure of his mouth. I feel more than hear his growl, and my feet leave the ground just before my back hits the wall. My legs twine around his hips as he pins me there, his lips planting a trail of kisses from my mouth to my neck.
My breath catches in my throat as his teeth graze over the delicate skin, and I find myself tilting my head, baring the vein for him to feast upon. He whispers a single word, and fire explodes through me, making me shout.
“Come,” he whispers again, and another bomb detonates, this one even stronger than the last.
I chant his name, a mumbled plea as I pull his hair even harder, increasing the pressure of his teeth on my flesh. I barely notice the sting before my third orgasm barrels through me. Colors explode behind my eyelids as the air rushes from my lungs on a long moan. I rock my hips against him, rubbing myself against his hard cock through our clothes and drawing the release out as he groans and sucks at my neck even harder.
I slow my movements as the aftershocks start to wane, and Jesse pulls his teeth from my neck before licking the spot to heal the wounds. I can feel his hard length pressing against me, and I unwind my legs while pushing at his shoulders. He steps back immediately, giving me space to stand while keeping a steadying hand on my hip.
I drop to my knees, my fingers fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as I try to get them undone. Jesse doesn’t move or speak, just watches me with a fire in his dark eyes that has my fingers moving faster. His fingers sift through my hair as I finally get the damn jeans undone, and I make short work of yanking them down to his knees before doing the same with his boxers.
His cock juts out proudly before me, and I grip the base with one hand, lifting it to lick the underside in one long, slow stroke. Jesse’s free hand snaps out to slam into the wall behind me, bracing his weight as the hand in my hair tightens and wraps the length of it around a fist.
I open my mouth, then I pull him between my lips and swirl my tongue around the tip. Some guttural noise vibrates in his chest, the sound encouraging me as I bob my head, driving him deeper and deeper with each thrust until his cock hits the back of my throat.
Jesse tenses, using his grip on my hair to pull me back an inch like he wants to protect me from any discomfort. I squeeze the base of his erection lightly, then pump it as I move my mouth up and down it’s long length, careful not to take him too deep.
