Page 100 of Craving Carla

“I can still taste the peaches on your tongue despite the toothpaste,” he says.

“I’m not going to turn into some pretty princess for you,” I tell him, thinking of the images the children sent me. “Based on what I’ve seen, you have a type. And I’m not that.”

Amari narrows his eyes at me and then steps back. “The only change I’m expecting from you is becoming more comfortable in my company.” His eyes darken as he continues. “I look forward to the day when you’re comfortable enough to command me to lie down on the bed so you can sit on my face.”

My mouth falls open in shock, and I slap my hand against him, but he catches it, moving my palm to his beating heart and pressing it there. The steady rhythm beneath my fingers makes my breath catch.

“I’m looking forward to the day when you tell me that you love me,” he says softly. “That moment would mean everything to me. Though I’m fully aware that I don’t deserve it, I covet your heart more than anything.”

My face falls, and I curl my fingers against him. “You’re so arrogant it pisses me off so bad sometimes.”

He laughs at that, the sound rumbling through him.

“But it’s hard not to care for you,” I admit.

“Not good enough,” he says immediately. “I want your heart, and I want it fully.”

I look at him and sigh.

“I’m going to get it,” he declares. “Your heart and your love.”

Then he steals another kiss from me, pulling back before I can truly sink into it.

“How did you know about Tabatha?” I ask, changing the subject. “You pointed her out immediately in the vision.”

Amari narrows his eyes at me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re going to ask me if I fucked her.” His directness makes me flush. “Well, the answer is no. No, I never fucked your cousins.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” I lie.

Amari scrunches his face up, seeing right through me. “Yes, you were.”

He sighs, leaning against the counter. “I didn’t become a manwhore until after 1492 when my civilization fell. That’s the same year I broke ties from being under Damon’s control. He was my sire, the vampire that created me.”

He runs a hand over his beard, his eyes distant with memories. “While under Damon, who was sired by King Amir, I ran into the Blackwood witches in passing many times, but they were being hunted by Aya, so they were always in hiding. Damon helped as much as he could, but he had very little to work with.”

His voice softens. “When the curse was cast, Amir was broken, lost hope he’d find Anora. Which is why he lost it and massacred a bear shifter clan. If I remember correctly, she time traveled for a time, but it’s my assumption something happenedto her, and he thought he’d never see her again. He fell into madness, and the consensus was that he’d go into slumber and only awaken during the time of Anora’s birth.”

Amari’s face darkens. “We thought Aya had killed all of the Blackwoods by then. She had hunted them so fiercely. I never understood why until now.”

He follows me as I step out of the bathroom and walk over to the bed. Before I can get there, he grabs my arm, pulling me back into his arms.

“I know we have a lot going on right now,” he says, his eyes softening, “but I’d like to cash in that raincheck.”

I look up at him, confused. “What?”

“The date I gave you a raincheck on. I’d like to take you on it, tomorrow night.”

I start to decline, but Amari steals a kiss from me, his lips soft but insistent against mine.

“Let me show you how you deserve to be treated,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Give you the date you craved so badly. I want to make it up to you.”

“Where can we go?” I ask, practical concerns intruding. “It’s not like there are restaurants on Wintermoon.”

“The tourist island,” he says simply.