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I’m wearing a hole in the carpet as I walk back and forth across the room, but Jesse hasn’t attempted to interfere with my obsessive pacing. I’ve been at it since we got back to the hotel after our encounter with the Brimmwise witches.
We never made it to the Grundelier village. There was no point, really, since I already experienced the vision I was hoping the visit would induce.
What if they come for her, Joe? How will she protect herself?
My mother’s words echo in my head, and I wish––not for the first time––that she would have gone into a little more detail. Who is they, and why was she so afraid of them?
I think I might know the answer to that last part. She was scared for me. That something bad would happen if they realized I was a Grundelier witch. That my premonition about the late mailman only proved the bindings she and Dad cast around my magic were failing.
So, what does that mean for me now that the Brimmwise coven knows I exist? Are they the they my mom was scared of? And what will they do now that they know the truth?
I’m not afraid. Not really. I’m not a helpless child anymore. I have full access to my magic, and I’m a vampire. I don’t want to sound full of myself, or anything, but I could quite possibly be the most powerful being on the planet.
No, I’m not helpless in the physical sense. But I’m at a terrible disadvantage when it comes to knowledge. I don’t know who I am, where I come from, or why my adoptive parents chose to hide and lie to me for most of my life.
If they hadn’t died, I could go to them. Demand answers and not relent until I got them.
But they are dead. And I don’t have anyone else to ask.
“Eden.”
I stutter to a stop, then turn to look at Jesse. He’s stretched across the bed in nothing but a pair of shorts, his dark eyes studying me intently. When I just stare back at him, he tilts his head and speaks again.
“I know this is frustrating, not knowing all the facts. But you’re driving yourself mad, obsessing over it this way. Maybe if you let it rest for a while, the answers you seek will come to you.”
“Let it rest?” I ask, shaking my head. “I don’t know how to do that, Jesse.”
His lips lift into a ghost of a smile. “I can help take your mind off all of it, but only if you want me to.”
Heat pools in my core, and I know it’s only from the smoldering look in his eyes, not from any mind tricks he’s playing. He really means it when he says it’s my decision. He could easily turn me into a trembling mess with nothing but a thought if he wanted to, but he’s leaving the choice up to me.
And I choose him. I always will.
His eyes darken even further as I shoot him a coy grin. Gripping the hem of my shirt, I whip it over my head and toss it to the floor. He sits up as I push down my shorts, his gaze devouring every inch of skin I bare in the process.
“Do you want to come, Mate?” he asks, his voice deep and husky.
I shake my head as I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. “Not yet. I want you to drive me to the edge and keep me hanging there for a while. Make me forget anything or anyone else exists besides you and me.”
“I can do that,” he says with a smile as he leaps from the bed and stalks toward me with a feline grace.
I slide the bra straps off my shoulders slowly as he comes closer, then let the garment fall to the floor. Jesse stops before me and reaches out to grip my chin. Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to my lips. When I try to deepen the contact, he pulls back. My lips turn down into a pout, but he only chuckles and leans back in, teasing me with more light, playful kisses.
When I don’t try to take charge or complain, he rewards me with a quick swipe of his tongue between my parted lips. A groan rumbles in my chest, and Jesse’s hands slide beneath the waistband of my underwear to grip the globes of my ass. After a good, hard squeeze, he pushes the underwear down to my knees where gravity takes over, and they fall to the floor.
He slides a hand up my inner thigh, then brushes his fingertips along my slit with a quiet moan. “Already so wet for me, my queen?”
“Always,” I gasp as his fingers brush over my sensitive bits again.
Pulling his hand away from where I want it most, he trails both palms up my sides before cupping my breasts and lifting them up. Dropping his head, he licks one nipple, then the other, back and forth in light, teasing touches that drive me wild for more.
I regret telling him I wanted him to take this slow and not let me come for a while, but at the same time, the anticipation is positively delicious. I can’t wait to see what he’ll do next.
I don’t have to wait long as his mouth returns to mine. Kissing me deeply, he spins us around and walks me backward, never breaking the seal of his mouth over mine. As my bare back makes contact with a wall, he leans into me, stroking his tongue against mine with expert precision. I’m shivering with need by the time he ends the kiss and drops to his knees.
He pushes my thighs apart, and I widen my stance, shivering as he blows a cool breath over my hot, throbbing center. His fingertips gently spread me open just before his tongue strokes against my clit, making me shout.
Jesse works me over with impossible restraint. The touch of his tongue is light, its movements slow and measured, and any time I try to grind against it to increase the speed or pressure, he pulls back.
