Page 8 of Chosen, Eternally

“ W e probably shouldn’t be doing this. You know, considering,” I manage to whisper—and hate myself for it immediately after.

Luckily, James is the voice of un reason. “If I only have a few hours left before I lose myself, then… Well, then, I actually want to lose myself in you.”

He crawls over me, kissing up my abdomen, in between my breasts as he does. That’s where he stops. Where he licks and sucks. Where he moves to one of my nipples and traces it with his tongue while his fingers pinch the other.

I arch off the bed, crying out his name. There’s a warm, heavy feeling in between my legs, wetness pooling faster than it ever has for anyone—even for the James I often fantasized about.

No one has ever wanted anyone more than I want him.

“You’re so soft,” he breathes against my skin before taking my nipple between his teeth.

He tugs gently, but just enough that I feel it all the way between my legs.

My pussy clenches around nothing, aching from feeling so empty.

“I’ve dreamt about running my tongue over this perfect skin for so long, and now that I can…

” He shivers. “Cate, this is so much better than I ever could’ve imagined. ”

I groan and nod, a bit desperate—but too far gone to care how I sound.

“What do you need? Tell me what you need.” His voice shares the same urgency I feel.

I reach down to grab his shoulders, reach up to cup his face. “You. I just need you. Before this is all gone and taken away from us.”

James swallows once before nodding and moving up my body. I feel his hard cock—heavy, smooth, warm—press against my folds when he settles between my thighs.

“ Jesus , you’re so fucking wet.”

My hand wraps around him, feeling the perfect weight of him. With care, I drag the tip of his penis over my wetness, letting him feel how crazy he makes me. How out of control.

His head drops between his shoulders with a groan. With his forehead pressed against my neck, he groans out my name.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer,” I tell him.

“Then let’s not.”

Without another word, one of his hands drags down my side, over my ribs and waist, down my thigh. He stops at my knee and hooks it over his hip with the confidence and command of someone who knows what to do with my body, even though we’ve never done this before.

It’s a tight fit, but after a few gentle thrusts, he manages to push all the way in. That’s where the delicateness ends, though. Because as soon as he’s seated all the way inside me, I gasp, cry out his name, and he loses it.

James’s thrusts are rough and demanding—not fast or hurried, but thorough . Enthusiastic. Like he’s here to get the job done, yes, but he’s here to do it well . Better than anyone else.

He scoops me off the mattress, arms ensnaring my waist, as his hips piston into me with a force that leaves me gasping for breath, on the verge of death, yet begging for more.

He’s so big, the stretch is a bit painful and a lot delicious. I never want it to end.

His body surrounds me—his heat, the sound of his filthy voice in my ear ( …so fucking wet…so good…want you dripping in my come… ), his bergamot scent—and it’s all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ll ever want.

It’s beautiful and devastating at the same time, because I know in that moment that, once he’s gone, I will never be happy again. Not after this.

As I near my orgasm—barrel towards it, more like—something around us changes. The dim lighting in the room evolves into bright lights, originating from somewhere unknown. When I finally come, it hits me in waves, and the entire room bursts in flashes and sparks, immersing us in stardust.

I barely notice, though. And neither does James, since I feel every muscle in his body tense.

The movements in his hips grow impossibly rougher and off-rhythm, though still euphoric.

And when I realize he’s just seconds away from his release, I wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into his back, begging him to come inside.

And that’s his last straw. The last bit of restraint disappears. With his loss of control comes another orgasm for me.

James pushes a strand of hair off my face, a soft, goofy smile spreading across his. “That was incredible.”

We’re both on our sides, naked in bed, enjoying every second of this post-coital bliss as the sun begins to rise.

“It was.” I lean forward to press a soft kiss on his lips, but it soon grows. Evolves into a deep-rooted hunger that seems to never go away. “It is ,” I say, pushing him on his back as I straddle him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he groans when I settle over his cock, rocking over him so he can feel my puffy lips—still wet from our combined come.

I fold over him to kiss his up his perfect chest all the way to his neck. It’s there that I pause, my entire blood running cold.

“Your vampire bite.”

His smirk falls. “Do we need to talk about this now ? What about it?”

“It’s gone.”

James sits up beneath me and wraps his arms around my waist. When he looks up at me, his voice is full of tenderness. Of calm strength. “Baby, it could’ve just been your Healing potion. Remember?”

“The Healing Potion takes longer to work. You’re not just back to 100% a few hours after drinking it. And your bruises…” I run my fingers over his cheekbone. The black eye that had started to form is long-gone, replaced only by redness. His busted lip is healed, too.

“I’m telling you, I feel totally normal. I think they never intended for me to turn into a vampire. I think if they did, we dodged a bullet, because I feel great.” He grins, trying to lighten the mood.

And at first it works—but only for a few seconds. Because as I stare at his beautiful smile, I notice a hint of two sharp teeth peeking out from beneath James’s lips.

Fangs.

“Shit.”

Just then, my phone rings on my bedside table. Ian’s name flashes.

“I don’t know what to do. What to say.”

“To me or to him?” James asks when I jump off him.

Scrambling for some clothes in my closet, my heart races, fear overtaking my system. My phone keeps ringing, but I refuse to pick it up. Lying to The Society seems unnatural, but betraying James is unthinkable.

As I begin to pull on a fresh pair of underwear, I wonder: am I going to dress for a fight or for comfort?

Is he five seconds from turning on me? Or has he done so already and is pretending like everything is fine so he can get me to lower my guard and murder me?

At what point in the transition do vamps lose their souls?

I don’t think I was ever taught that in witch lessons.

Because I have no idea what to tell him, I decide it’s best not to try and fill the silence.

“Can you talk to me? Can you please tell me what’s going on?” His voice is so inherently James , though, that I can’t help breaking my rule.

“I just… I need to prepare myself.”

His expression is quizzical at first, until the other shoe drops. “Oh. To kill me, you mean.”

I nod, choking up.

“I see.” James exhales, resigned, before feeling his fangs with the tips of his fingers. “They’re pretty sharp,” he says with awe.

This makes me sputter a laugh.

“What?”

“Just…” I shrug. “I don’t know. I love you.”

His answering smile is sad. “I know. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “You feel sorry for me for having to kill you?”

“Of course.” He frowns, like his reasoning is obvious. “Why is it hard to believe?”

“Because you’re the one who has to die.” The sharp pain in my chest as I speak the words aloud is nearly debilitating.

“I know, baby. But I’m not the one who is going to have to live with it.”

Something slices right through my heart, cutting it in half.

As I bleed out, I sigh and finish dressing—for comfort, because I’m not ready to end the love of my life. Not today.

“The Society is looking for me. I didn’t check in after going out hunting last night, which I usually do. You know, to make sure I didn’t die and they don’t have to call upon another.”

“So why don’t you just answer the phone? Just tell them you’re alive.”

I sit beside James and slump against his shoulder.

“Because there was obviously some foul play surrounding your death. Or fake death. And I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from asking them point-blank what happened.

I don’t know who I can trust. Don’t know who I should talk to.

Something isn’t right here, and I need to do more research before I tell absolutely anyone about you. ”

His arm comes around me. It feels like coming home for the first time. James kisses the top of my head before pulling away to look me straight in the eye.

“How can I help?” he asks, his gaze filled with so much love and support I nearly throw myself at him once again.

Smiling, I get to my feet. “Not sure whether you can do anything, to be honest. Any second now you’ll…

Well, and anyway, contrary to what movies show you, I doubt turning into a vampire automatically makes you a black belt in taekwondo.

If we were to encounter some bad people, I’d be distracted the entire time making sure you’d be fine.

It’s best if you stay here, out of sight. ”

“Yeah, but I’m basically immortal, though, right? So what does it matter? I won’t get hurt.”

“I mean, sure, you’re basically immortal. You heal fast and you’re much stronger than you were as a human, but you still have vulnerabilities. Can’t go out in the sun. Stake through the heart. You know, the usual.”

James laughs. “The usual? Baby, none of this is the usual. Not witches, not vampires, not us.”

I frown. “What do you mean ‘not us’?”

He smiles and walks over to me—buck naked—before cupping my face and placing a soft kiss on my lips. “I meant that we—what we have—is one of a kind. I can’t imagine anyone else feeling this way. I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to care for you the way I do.”

My answering kiss is more like a goofy smile pressed against his lips. He’s so fucking adorable.