He edges closer, releasing one of my legs as he pushes into me. Gently at first, as if he can tell I’m adjusting to him, to the unending sparks of new sensations. His fingers gliding over my pulse point; his mouth settling on the tender spot in my neck; the expert way he captures my nipples between his teeth.
I ask him if we can stop, and he does. He strokes and gathers my heavy hair, twisting it up into a ponytail. It’s so sweet—so human—that I laugh. Orfeo smiles at me in a shy way I’ve never seen before. All the vampiric pretense gone. I roll my hips against his and we find our way back together.
He’s patient with me, encouraging, and when we finally find our rhythm, he presses his lips to my ear and tells me how good I’m doing. His fangs drag back and forth over my neck as he sucks at the tender crook in my neck, pressing deeper and deeper as pleasure consumes me, possesses me.
We gather momentum as I become unfathomably turned on—more than I ever knew was fucking possible. Our bodies crash together in a hot, tangled mess. I can’t get enough now; I’m desperate for him, for every bit of him. I want to braid this pleasure into my life for eternity.
He tilts my head back and presses his tongue to the base of my throat, humming against my skin as he fucks me. I beg as sensation crests higher and higher inside me—a hot, tight coil connected to every blood vessel in my body.
I call out his name, dig my nails into his flesh, press my own teeth into his neck. But he soothes me with his lips, never once breaking my skin.
In the afterglow, wrapped in his Egyptian cotton bedsheets and soft, warm light, Orfeo smokes a cigarette while tracing shapes across my soft belly.
Part of me is dazed and blissed out, while another part of me yearns, bone-deep, for more.
As if he can read my mind, he says, “I’m afraid you’ll lose respect for me.”
“You are…” I shake my head. “Insaneis the only word I can think of.”
He takes a deep drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke jet out from his nostrils slowly. “I’m not sure how my bite will affect you, Diantha. What if you remain unfazed? Unconnected? And then, what if my submission to you becomes a nuisance?”
I examine his profile, reaching out to drag the tip of my finger down over the slope of his nose. “You don’t want to lose the humanity of our connection.”
“Yes, that’s it. I like the way we are able to…flirt. To move at a more human pace. I like that I am not so obsessed and tormented.” He lets out a soft laugh. “Though, I would be lying if I said I did not want you in that way, Diantha. Of course I want you. To taste you would be an honor.”
His eyes glisten with a far-off, dreamy look. “This is the sweet in-between,” I say.
His mouth curves into a devious smile. “Yes. Tortuously sweet.”
“But.” I swallow roughly, almost embarrassed by what I’m about to say. “It’s the only way for us to know if I’m really a goddess. We can swap blood, if that makes things maybe more…even.”
“Aren’t you afraid,” he whispers, turning toward me, pressing his mouth to the skin just below my belly button. “To be shackled to me?”
“Orfeo, my whole life has been one frightening, traumatic event after another. At least here, with you, I feel safe. I feel warm. I’m not hell-bent on this…” I shake my head. “It’s just, when we’re intimate—I want it so badly.”
“That is our design. A vampire’s kiss is like a drug. And some do become addicted. To the high. To the toxic power dynamic,” he continues, his voice vibrating against me. I sink lower into the mattress. “To the ritual. We are submissive, worshipping creatures. Not…how do you say? Alpha?”
I laugh and tug his curls, broken loose from his usual style, away from his eyes. “Who cares about that? I want whatever you are, exactly as you are.”
“Mmm.” His eyes grow heavier. “You think that now.”
“I think that always,” I reply. “Do you think you’re some Alpha? You call me youramore.”I click my tongue. “You got on your knees for me.”
He smirks. “That is my favorite place to be.”
I snag his cigarette from his lips and take a drag. The smoke is acrid and hot, and I cough before handing it back. “We’re meant to do this—to swap blood. Even if we choose to move on from each other in the future.”
“I agree. It is what we are meant to do—for your destiny.” He stubs out the last of his cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand, then takes my face in his hands. His touch is pure comfort and somehow, also, electric. He pulls me to him, brings his mouth to mine.
Orfeo leaves me a mushy puddle in bed, going down to the bathroom and returning with minty fresh breath and a look of total exhaustion. He climbs under the sheets and draws me to his chest. “I’m sorry, the daylight is coming for me.”
“Of course.” I nuzzle close, inhaling his scent. Then, I kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you at dusk.”
I slip out from the carriage house into the late morning light, letting the sun warm my face for the first time in—I can’t remember how long it’s been. The sky is blue and cloudless, the air crisp. I walk the perimeter of the Collegiate Inn, which is way bigger than I anticipated.
It’s a sprawling stone mansion with verandas and parapets that wrap around the entire back of the house, the grounds dotted with fire pits and picnic tables. I climb the stone steps that lead to a back patio and find it sparsely populated by a few middle-aged businessmen with gray hair and fancy winter jackets working on their laptops.
No one notices me as I slink inside. It takes me a few wrong turns, but eventually I wander down the right hallway and find myself in the lobby, which must have once been the house’s drawing room. Daylight spills in through enormous picture frame windows, covering a baby grand piano and thick, ornate rugs. On the far side of the room, the bar is set with coffee carafes and pastries. A hand-lettered sign reads: “For Our Guests.”
