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Yes, Quinn. Fuck me. Make me forget. Let me be who I am with you, even if I can't be that with anyone else. I'm safe inside your heart. They can't change that.
Everything inside him broke open at that, and he thrust into her, deeper, trying to get all the way to her soul. The clasp of her arms, the clutch of her fingers, her breath on his neck, told him he might already be there. God, she felt so good. Her nails dug in, telling him she needed to feel his demand. But she wasn't guarding her mind so much now, another indication of her weakness that helped him restrain himself, slow down and be even more tender, the kiss drawing out into a nuzzling of lips, causing her to sigh into his mouth. He had the honor of her trusting him to take her all the way home, relying on his strength to move them together, work her up to climax. He held his own back. He hadn't been there for her. He didn't deserve any pleasure. She deserved it all.
The climax was a trembling, near-miss kind of thing that just made it over the pinnacle, hampered by her physical state, but he relished the glazing in her eyes, that immersion in the sensations that took her away for just a moment from what had happened. She was weak and shuddering in his arms afterward, making him wonder if she needed more blood. He'd already recovered from what she'd taken earlier. He'd never been so glad of the rejuvenating power of being a full servant.
"I might need a little more," she agreed. "Let's go back to the downstairs bed."
"Okay." After making sure she was all clean and rinsed, he switched off the shower and carried her out to the chair, wrapping her in a big towel before drying himself and pulling on his jeans. When he sought some clean linens for her cot, she watched him with those mysterious blue eyes. He'd left his shirt off and, as he moved back and forth in the small bathroom, her fingertips trailed over his bare skin.
"You didn't come," she said.
"No, Mistress." He gave her a wry smile. "You didn't say I could."
She studied him as he lifted her again. The fact she didn't say she could walk on her own told him she was still too worn out. The anger was back and a lot of other things too, unleashed by that tender moment. He should be glad for what he could be for her right now, but the alpha male in him couldn't rest with that. Damn it, he had to do something. He couldn't just be here to pick up the pieces.
"Quinn." Her voice was a caress against his throat as her arms slid around his neck again, holding him as he carried her back down the stairs, through the bar and to the cellar once more. Setting her in the chair she had beside the cot, he made up the bed, kicking the blood-soaked covers and blankets aside, probably with more passion than was necessary. Once she was asleep, he'd get a mop and clean up the blood spatter, get rid of those clothes, so she'd wake in an environment that didn't show the violence that had been done to her.
He guessed there was no way he could hide the shift in his emotional tide, but fortunately she seemed to be dozing again, thank God. He tucked her in, but as he began to slide away, her hand latched on to his arm.
"Stay."
"I'm not leaving, Mistress. I just want to get these sheets out of here where you don't have to see them."
Her eyes opened, focused on his face. He sensed her delving even deeper and wished he could block his thoughts the way she could. The way she had. Fuck, she'd been going through this while he was checking out a damn bull, having drinks with his buddies...
"What would you have done if you were here?" she said softly.
It was a harsh kick to the balls, one that made him step back. "Apparently nothing you think would be of use," he said tightly. Bending, he picked up the sheets, balling them up in his arms. He took several steps away from her, fully intending to take them up to the laundry room and stay there until he could get himself under control. He made it five steps before he drop-kicked them against the wall and spun around.
"Damn it, Selene, you should have reached out to me."
"And watch Laurent kill you in front of me?" She pushed herself up with obvious effort, though her eyes had gone cold as polar cap snow. "Is that what your testosterone demands?"
"It's what you need and want that matters."
"No, obviously not. Not if you're more focused on what happened yesterday than what's happening right now." She put her hand on the clean sheets. "This is what I needed from you. You can't control what happens between vampires. I have precious little control of it myself. What I need is a safe port, Quinn."
"Someone who keeps your heart safe. Not your body."
"Yes," she said harshly. "In my world, finding someone who keeps your heart safe is a far more difficult task, believe it or not. I'm sixty-two and you're the first I've found up to the task."
That brought him up short. That and the broken note in her voice, despite her lifted chin and eyes shooting sparks at him. If she wasn't so obviously exhausted, her gaze said she was ready to tie him up and beat him herself. Then he imagined Laurent doing that to her, only with far less pleasurable results than he'd experienced at her hands. His rage descended into a frustration so raw and jagged he felt like he was being torn open from the inside.
He came to her, knelt by the bed, framed her face in his hands. "How can I be who I'm not, Mistress? How can I care for you if I can't protect you?"
His grandfather had taught him that it was a man's responsibility to protect and defend women. To always treat them with the greatest respect. The absolute opposite of everything he saw when he looked into her battered face.
Her mouth softened and she touched his face in return. "You care for me in the very way you are, Quinn. That's what I need. Trust me to know how to handle certain things until you can figure them out."
He sighed, put his forehead against hers. They stayed that way a bit, then he realized her arm was shaking. With a quiet oath, he eased her back down. "I'm sorry. You don't need to deal with my crap. You need more blood, right?"
"Later. Just lie with me right now. Sleep with me. Do laundry later." A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. "The smell of blood doesn't bother vampires. Promise me you won't leave me until dawn. Stay with me until I'm really asleep."
"I promise." He got into the narrow cot with her, folding her in his arms, her backside nestled up against him. She gave him a playful little rub, reminding him his cock was still unassuaged, but he didn't care about that. Not right now.
Good. Because I may keep you suffering for a while for yelling at your Mistress.
He made his lips pull into a stiff smile and brushed a kiss over her temple. Since he could feel that lassitude pulling her down toward slumber again, he rocked them both, humming to her in an off-tune, meandering way, just old campfire songs, things to soothe them both. Her pulse slowed, her breathing changing to an even rhythm.
"Promise..." she breathed.
He didn't know what she was asking him to promise. That he wouldn't leave her until dawn, or something different, but he knew what to answer.
"I promise."
Wasn't that what it boiled down to in the end? An open-ended, blank check between two people meant to be together. I promise to be whatever you need, love you endlessly, never let you down.
He knew she'd been trying to tell him he hadn't failed her, but in his world, no one treated a woman like that and got away with it. Laurent wasn't going to be the exception, even if he was a goddamn vampire.
Though Quinn relished holding her, he also chafed at the time. But Laurent had to go to ground as well, right? Every vampire movie Quinn had ever seen said that was when he'd be most vulnerable. That was when Selene was the most vulnerable, after all, and why she holed up here behind a locked door.
When he finally slipped out of her arms, it was a couple hours past dawn, the time when she was in that deep sleep from which only dusk would wake her. Adjusting the blankets over her, he stroked her hair from her face. She was completely out of it, a deep, restorative slumber. Which worked better for his purposes, as insane as they might be. But then a man who put himself on the back of an animal that outweighed him t
en times knew a few tricks. He didn't rely on strength as much as smarts and quickness, anticipating what his opponent might do. That's what he'd do here.
First up was getting some intel on this particular bull. Once he was in his truck and well away from the saloon, he pulled off to the side of the road, took a few deep breaths and called up Dix.
"Mornin'," Dix drawled. "Miss us already?"
Under other circumstances, Quinn might have struggled with a response. Figuring out how the typical male razzing worked with a guy who'd had his mouth on your dick like a vacuum hose--all while getting his own brains fucked out by his Master--presented a unique challenge. However, today Quinn had other concerns than managing his own paradigm shifts. "Have the Region Masters come to a decision?"
"They said they'd let Butch know by tonight. Any sign of Laurent?"
"Yeah. Big time." Weighing the pros and cons of it, he nevertheless let Dix know in bald terms how he'd found Selene. Dix let out a curse.
