He finally broke his silence and said, “Servicing me.”
I nodded.
“Servicing me,” he repeated.
I nodded again, this time more hesitantly.
“Would you care to explain to me, in detail, what you think your job is Leah?”
I didn’t really care to, and anyway, he knew.
Didn’t he?
“You know,” I told him.
“Explain it,” he said.
My head tilted to the side in confusion. “But… I don’t understand. You know.”
He leaned forward a fraction of an inch, his voice dipped dangerously low, and he clipped, “Explain it.”
“I… you, I…” I faltered then recovered, “I’m available for you to feed and… to… um, do other things, whenever you want.” His mouth got tight and I went on, “And, you know, let you show me off, go with you to places and…”
“Stop talking,” he demanded and I snapped my mouth shut.
Something was wrong.
I’d never expected to say any of this to him but I thought the time was right. Cards on the table. He won.
I thought he’d be happy. He won.
Why wasn’t he happy?
Why did he look so… freaking… mad?
“Lucien –” I started but he interrupted me.
“So you think you’re my whore,” he stated and I winced.
I wouldn’t put it that way. I mean, it kind of was that way but even my mind was shying away from that terminology.
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said quietly.
“How would you put it? You think you’re here to service me. You think your job is to let me feed from you and f**k you whenever I want. Your job.” He spit out the last word like it tasted foul and he couldn’t bear it in his mouth. “So, how, exactly, would you put it, my pet?”
“I’m your concubine,” I reminded him, thinking that said it all.
I thought this because it did!
He watched me a moment and I watched him back. Mainly I watched his eyes working and I didn’t like the way they were working.
Then his arm moved, it was a blur and nearly instantly his wine glass shattered against the wall. The strength of the throw was so immense, the glass was sand, the liquid in it splashed in a tall, wide mark against the wall.
I stared over my shoulder at the wall. Then I looked at him, mouth hanging open.
“Have you been paying attention,” he growled, hesitated then kept growling, “at all?”
I felt my body start to tremble at the ferocity in his gaze.
“Lucien –” I whispered, unsure what I was going to say but, whatever it was I didn’t get the chance to say it.
“I’ve a mind,” he talked over me, gone was the growl, his voice was back to silky smooth, “to show you what being my whore would mean.”
I had the feeling this was not good.
My heart started beating so fast I could feel my pulse in my neck.
“Yes, sweetheart,” his voice was still silky smooth, “you wouldn’t like it.”
My breath started coming in pants.
He stood, got close and looked down at me. I tilted my head to look up at him.
“For the record, Leah,” he said softly, “I didn’t f**k Kitty last night.” He leaned in and his voice dropped to a whisper. “She wanted it, even begged for it. She begged to touch me, begged for the chance to take me in her mouth, begged me to f**k her.” He leaned in closer, his hand came up, fingers curling around my neck and I saw him hold his body rigid as if he was controlling an impulse and I held my breath. “I was tempted, I’ll admit, but in the end she didn’t smell like you and she didn’t taste like you and she didn’t look like you so I could scarcely bear to feed from her which is all I f**king did.”
Before I knew it, he was gone. Whoosh.
I heard the garage door go up, the Porsche roared to life and then the garage door went back down.
The entire time I sat there, not knowing what to do or how to feel, especially about the fact that he just gave me another weird, but extraordinary, compliment.
What I did know was that I, again, managed to screw things up. Even though I thought I was doing the right thing for myself, for my family, for Lucien even.
What I also knew was that I really, really needed to call my Mom.
Shakily, I got up and left the fried chicken, the pulverized wine glass and that’s exactly what I did.
Chapter Thirteen
The Dream
I finally understood.
As my head lifted, my legs slid open, his h*ps fell between and my arms wrapped around him tight as if they’d never let go.
And I never wanted to let him go.
Never. Not for eternity.
My mouth sought his ear.
“I understand,” I whispered, the budding beauty of it flowing through me.
Lucien’s tongue swept across the wound where he was feeding.
His head came up, his beautiful eyes boring into mine, his blazing with triumph and searing into me like a brand.
His hands moved to my hips, lifting, his mouth came down on mine in a bruising, possessive kiss and he filled me.
Through his claiming thrusts, my mouth against his, I breathed lovingly, “I’m yours.”
* * * * *
“Leah.”
Hands were on me, my lover’s hands but they weren’t touching me in a loverly way.
“Leah, wake up.”
* * * * *
“Say it again,” Lucien snarled but I’d lost track.
I was so full of him; I’d never been so filled. It was beautiful, so beautiful I started crying.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his hand in my hair pulling my head back, not gently, the pain mingled with the pleasure of his claiming.
“I’m yours,” I whispered, my eyes focusing on his. “Only yours. Always.”
* * * * *
I was rolled, I felt weight on me, a hand on my arm shaking me.
“Leah, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
* * * * *
He melted away. He wasn’t inside me anymore. My arms held nothing.
Everything went black.
The loss of him was immense. I felt it through to my soul.
Fear filled me and I screamed.
* * * * *
“Leah, wake up!”
* * * * *
They were burning him.
And they were hanging me.
The sentence for his crime was to watch my death before his own.
My eyes were riveted to him as the flames curled around his powerful body.
I felt the noose go around my neck.
I love you, I whispered to his mind.
* * * * *