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He made it hurt for me, made it ache, driving me under with a wash of bloody tears and searing pain. And in the pain, I began to weep. Weeping for my father, for my sisters, for the thousands who had died in Elqaneve. I wept for the victims who had been caught in the fire at my bar. I wept for Nerissa, who was stuck with loving me—who deserved so much better.
As the tears stained my face, Roman began to murmur something, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the middle of a brilliant shower of blood, in a waterfall of energy—red and gold and burning orange, and all around was the scent of copper, the copper of blood, the cloying wash that gave the creatures of the earth their substance. Blood was life. Blood was power.
And there, under the Crimson Veil, under the watchful eyes of the great Mother of Vampires, Roman took me to the ground. He ripped at my shirt, and tossed it to the side. I unzipped my jeans, pushing them down as he removed his smoking jacket. Then, unzipping his leather pants, he pushed them down and moved between my legs.
I looked up at him, the hunger gnawing deep. “Take me. Make me feel alive. I need to feel alive.”
With a rough laugh, he flipped me over. “I will make you feel alive in every way I can. As long as that’s what you want.”
“Do it. Do whatever you want to me.”
Roman let out a low grunt as he stuck two fingers up my cunt, and my body responded. I groaned as he pulled them out and lubricated my ass with them. Instinct took over and I tightened my butt cheeks, but he wouldn’t stop. He parted them—surprisingly gentle in his movements—and then, inserted one finger up my ass. I shifted, moaning as the surprising notes of pleasure swept through me.
“You like that?”
I nodded. “More?”
“As you wish, my consort.” And then, he pushed his cock against my ass, slowly driving forward, easing himself inside, fraction by fraction of an inch, until he let out a satisfied grunt. “Head’s in. Now, love, are you ready? I’m going to fill you up, take it to the hilt. Beg me.”
Responding to the passion behind his words, to the absolute feeling of being desired and wanted, I obeyed. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
And so he drove in, and again the mix of pain and pleasure sent me reeling. I squirmed as he slowly thrust in to the hilt, till I could feel his balls pressing against my butt. And then, he reached down between my legs and began to finger my clit. As I fell into the rhythm, and began to soar—rising higher, letting out little cries—he abruptly stopped and pulled out.
He reached down and grabbed me by the ankles, flipping me over on my back. With a quick wipe of his cock, he lunged between my legs, plunging deep into my cunt.
As he shifted, penetrating deeper with each thrust, his eyes never leaving my face, all that existed was his cock inside me, the sensation of being full, of not having to be the one in charge. Of not having to worry about hurting him.
I fell into his stare as around us the veil of blood continued to flow. The energy of the Veil began to absorb us into it, and I realized that I was fucking the essence of the blood, fucking the soul of every vampire that had ever walked the world. Their passion, hunger, drive roiled around me in vast clouds of thirst and joy and hunger and pain.
Finally, when I could stand it no longer, I let go of my pain, of my fear, and gave it up. And as I did so, I came, losing myself in an orgasm that spiraled me into the fire. Into the blood. Back into the core of myself.
Chapter 17
When I came to, Roman and I were snuggled up at the base of the tree. Exhausted, I closed my eyes as he wrapped his arm around me. I was shirtless, but my jeans were buttoned and the softness of his jacket against my skin felt welcoming. He kissed the top of my head.
“Better now?”
I nodded. “I needed that.” Pausing, I took stock. I felt refreshed. Tired but like a whole fuckton of stress had gone bye-bye. The sex had been fantastic, but it was more than that. “I feel renewed.”
“That’s because of where we were.” He leaned forward, brushing a spider off his leg.
“Were we in… the Veil?” I’d been in the Crimson Veil only once, when his mother, Blood Wyne—Queen of the Vampire Nation—had sent me there. And within the Veil I’d learned more about my true nature, about the nature of vampires, than I had ever known even existed. The Crimson Veil was the core of the hunger—of the bloodlust. It was the source of vampirism, created by Mother Kesana, who had melded her soul with a demon to become the first vampire to walk the earth.
“Yes, I took you to the Veil. You were exhausted and weary. You’ve had some great shocks lately. The Veil is a place of renewal and regeneration. And you so dearly needed both.” He stood then, pulling me to my feet. “I have business to attend to before the rest of the night is spent. But Menolly… thank you. Thank you for letting me help you. And remember what I said about Nerissa. You need to give her more of yourself. You can’t just take on a title of wife and expect that wearing it will be enough. You have to live the part.”
And with that, he grabbed my hand and we raced through the forest at a blinding speed. He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, kissed me once more, and then vanished into the night.
As I headed up the stairs, I realized that for the first time in a long while, I felt rested and ready to face whatever might be coming. Inside, I glanced at the clock. It was going on four. Mourning my Jag, but feeling oddly content, for the rest of the night, I watched old movies, curled up in the living room.
The next evening—or rather late afternoon, considering how early the sun was setting—I woke up to a relatively calm house. Hanna was washing dishes, and it looked like dinner was over. Maggie was playing in her playpen, Delilah and Camille were poring over the documents Carter had given us about the Farantino Building. The guys were busy outside cleaning up after the storm. Though I hadn’t noticed it the night before while in the throes of wild hot monkey sex with Roman, the wind had been blowing up a gale, and now branches littered the yard.
As I picked up Maggie out of her playpen and snuggled her for a moment, Kitten gave me a resigned smile. But at least, it was a smile. Maggie yanked on my hair—which hurt like the devil—as I cuddled the little gargoyle.
“Camille, can you braid my hair? I’ve decided that, while it’s pretty down, I don’t want to keep it loose in case of a fight. Too much chance to have it used against me.” With how curly and tangled my hair was, much safer to leave it braided up. I tucked Maggie back in her playpen and crossed to the table.
“Sure.” She stood, arching her back. “Where are the beads?”
I handed her the box I’d picked up off my dresser. They contained a bunch of new beads that Nerissa had bought for me and I had pretty much ignored till now. “Here, why don’t you try some of these?”
