Chapter Eighteen
Mateo
Buried Memories
Her words gut me.
‘Maybe that’s how I want it.’
Every wall I’ve tried to keep between us crumbles under the weight of that quiet defiance.She doesn’t flinch from me, doesn’t shrink from the monster I know I am.She tilts her chin as she dares me to prove her wrong, and the trust in her eyes is more terrifying than any blade Noah ever held to my chest.
I should stop this.I should step back, draw the line, tell her all the reasons she’s wrong to want this, to want me.But my body betrays me, my blood already thrumming with hers, my fangs sharp and aching.
“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” I whisper, my voice ragged.“You don’t know what it means to be mine.To bleed for me.To....”
“But I want to,” she interrupts, her fingers curling tighter in my hair.Her lips tremble, but her eyes don’t waver.“I’ve lived my whole life with nothing.No true family.No one who wanted me, not really.Empty days.Empty nights.Until you.”
My chest constricts, tight and painful.
“I want to belong,” she says fiercely.“And I want it to be with you.To you.Don’t you dare tell me no again.”
The desperation in her voice shreds my last restraint.I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her anger, her fears, her fire.She meets me with equal force, lips and tongue colliding in a messy, hungry clash that tastes like everything I’ve denied myself for too long.
Her nails rake down my neck, and I groan against her mouth, sliding my hands over her hips, pulling her tight against me.The quilt bunches under her knees as I press her deeper into the bed.She arches, meeting me, her body as desperate as her words.
I break the kiss, panting against her lips, my forehead pressed to hers.“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Harlow.My bite isn’t gentle.It isn’t kind.It will bind you to me in ways you can’t undo.”
Her lips part, trembling.“Then bind me.”
Fuck.
The sound that rips from my chest isn’t human.It’s a growl born of centuries of hunger and longing.My hands shake as I cup her face, as if she might vanish if I don’t hold her.“You’ll never be free again,” I warn her, my voice breaking.“Not from me.”I need her to know the truth before we move further.
“I don’t want to be.”
Her words destroy me.My cock is painfully hard, begging to be set free, but I hold back.I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring every gasp, every soft sound she makes.Her mouth is heat and surrender and defiance all at once, and I drink it down like a dying man.My hands roam, tugging at the oversized shirt she must have found in the consort suite, baring inch after inch of the soft skin I’ve ached for.
She whimpers into my mouth when my palms slide under the fabric, up over her ribs, brushing the underside of her breasts.The sound undoes me.
I pull back, staring down at her.Her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and wet with want.“You’re sure?”I rasp.“You need to be sure, mi alma.”
She doesn’t hesitate for a single second.“I’m sure.I love you, Mateo.I want this.I want you.”
