Page 43 of Grim’s Delight (The New Protectorate Syndicate #1)

TWENTY-TWO

Dahlia wasn’t entirely sure how things ended up the way they had. A large part of her had braced for Felix’s fury when she returned to the house. She never could’ve predicted he’d show her a glimpse of the raw turmoil beneath the mask she’d become so used to.

And then the baffling man went and agreed to everything she asked for.

She was still trying to wrap her head around that as Felix fiddled with the ludicrously complex shower panel. Steam hissed from jets in the wall, and a massive rain showerhead came on, filling the luxurious bathroom with the sound of a captive waterfall.

The shower itself was made of some sort of fancy green marble that probably cost more than all the money she’d ever made. It was big enough to fit four people his size, and a wide bench stretched across one side. Nooks built into the walls contained the high end bath products of her dreams.

It was as close to a spa experience as she’d ever come, and it got infinitely better when Felix stripped down to nothing and stepped inside with her. She’d imagined what he’d look like a thousand times over the years, but her imagination didn’t do him justice.

Felix was all pale skin, bloody tattoos, and lean muscle. A heavy, half-hard cock hung between toned thighs, and when he leaned his head back into the water to wet his wavy hair, the livid wound of her bite stood out like an erotic beacon on his pale throat.

A heady pulse of arousal moved through her as she watched him run his claws through his hair, scraping it back from his high cheekbones with quick, practiced movements that made the muscles of his biceps bunch and release.

Trying to distract herself from the unsettling mix of sexual arousal and hunger that seemed to come with being a vampire, Dahlia turned away and tipped her head back as well. Hot water ran down her body, soothing the minor bruising and scrapes she’d picked up on her outing.

“Do all of you have those tattoos?” she asked, voice echoing off the marble walls. “I noticed Luis has a similar one on his arm. Milo and Marietta, too. Though I think hers is on her ankle.”

Big hands settled on her hips, drawing her back into him. Felix dipped his head to skim his lips over her shoulder. His fangs scraped her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Mm,” he hummed, running his hands over her stomach and up to cradle her breasts. His thumbs traced the outline of her nipples, teasing them into tight points. “Just the cousins.”

It wasn’t easy to think clearly when he touched her like that. It was gentle but possessive, like he wanted to map every part of her that belonged to him.

His skin was slippery where it met hers, and the scents of steamy fresh water and the natural musk of him made her core clench with need. Dahlia’s eyes fluttered as she swayed into him, feeling the hard bar of his cock against the small of her back.

“Why… why just the cousins?” Gods only knew how she managed to get the words out.

“We wanted something that bound us all together that wasn’t just our names or our hair.

Something we chose.” Felix slowly rolled her nipples between his fingers, punctuating each soft word with pleasure.

“It wasn’t enough that we were related. We wanted something that’d show we’d chosen to be family — unlike our parents and grandparents, who all hated each other. ”

The more he spoke about his family, the less she felt like she understood Felix. Dahlia couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that he seemed so… caring. Not in any traditional or healthy way, maybe, but in a way that was true to him and his world.

Felix seemed to speak another language, almost. How he expressed his love wasn’t the way she expected, but it was there. It was real. And it made her question a lot of the assumptions she’d made not just in the past few weeks, but throughout their entire relationship.

Hooking a hand behind his neck, Dahlia tilted her head to one side, allowing him greater access to gently nibble at her throat and shoulder. The gentle fall of hot water over their heads nearly drowned out her voice when she summoned the bravery to ask, “Felix, do you love me?”

Another man might’ve tensed up, the blunt question killing the mood as he scrambled to come up with some evasive answer. Not Felix.

He let out a low, sensual laugh against her skin. One hand abandoned her breast to snake down, following the trail of water to slip between her legs. He stroked her slowly, stoking the building heat, as he drawled, “Obviously.”

Dahlia’s breath sawed in and out of her. Her legs widened, feet sliding on the shimmering tile to accommodate his talented hand working its magic on her cunt. Still, she somehow managed to gasp, “Obviously? What does that even mean?”

“Did you think I didn’t?”

“Not really, no?—”

Felix whirled her around so fast, her feet threatened to go out from under her on the slippery tile. Luckily he held her firmly as he loomed over her. Eyes narrowed dangerously, he pressed, “What do you mean not really?”

“Well, I…” Dahlia tried to gather her thoughts as her mind went from arousal to defensiveness in a few heartbeats.

“I always thought you were more interested in a conquest than anything else. You hated talking about feelings, Felix. We were never lovey-dovey, were we? And you got so mad that I didn’t tell you I was hurt at the bar, but you also didn’t ask if I was okay.

Forgive me for wondering if you didn’t actually care that much. ”

She expected an argument, not to be hoisted up against the wall.

Jets of steam pumped from little holes in the marble on either side of her as Felix pinned her there, his hands clutching her ass like he owned it.

She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as she grabbed his wet shoulders, steadying herself.

Water sloped down his forehead to run in rivulets down his sharp nose, high cheekbones, and beautifully carved lips. It clung in sparkling droplets to his long, spiked eyelashes, which gave his glare an unfairly pretty quality.

“I don’t see the point in talking about my feelings when they’re obvious,” he coolly informed her.

“I didn’t ask if you were okay because I assumed my girl, who knows how much her safety means to me, would tell me if she were hurt.

And I didn’t do lovey-dovey shit because I thought you liked our games, pet. ”

Words escaped her when he brushed his lips against hers. In a low, husky voice, he asked, “Isn’t that true? You liked being chased. You liked teasing me. You liked when I showed you how far I’d go to get your attention.”

Her nails dug into the meat of his broad shoulders. Heat rolled through her in a slow, inexorable wave, stealing what little fight she still possessed. Dahlia’s thighs tightened around his lean hips.

There was no pride left in her when she’d been hollowed out, left aching for the one thing and the one man who could fill her up.

“Yes,” she whispered, “but I want both.”

“Both of what?”

“The games and the lovey-dovey stuff.”

His smile brushed against her lips. “I can do that, pet. All you ever have to do is ask.”

Dahlia had no idea what to expect. He wasn’t exactly a soft man, and she doubted he had much experience going slow or being tender with a lover. But as she was coming to learn, Felix Amauri was full of surprises.

He took his time with her there against the shower’s cool stone wall.

Pinning her weight with his hips and one braced knee, he freed his hands to tease her nipples, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and higher.

He touched her with featherlight strokes of his fingers, never staying too long in one place or providing enough pressure to get her off.

His kisses were deep and hungry. Their tongues met in a languid glide, the prick of fang adding a sharp note of pleasure-pain irregularly enough that she never quite knew when it’d come.

By the time he finally lined himself up and sank into her, one agonizing inch at a time, Dahlia was a needy, whining mess. Her fingers had moved to his hair, twining themselves in the wet strands, and her heels dug into his back to spur him on.

“That’s my beautiful bride,” he breathed, thrusting shallowly — a cruel tease that made her core flutter around him in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper. “You were born for this. You were always meant to be mine. To take me just like this.”

Dahlia nodded mindlessly, her lips tracing the hard tendons of his neck to find his thrumming pulse.

The sharp ache in the roof of her mouth was familiar now, but something stopped her from sinking her fangs into him just yet.

It wasn’t the fear that had hit her like a truck after her first bite, but a clear instinct that it wasn’t quite the right time.

If she held out just a little longer, it’d be sweeter.

Their bodies came together again and again, filling the shower with the sounds and scents of sex. Felix unlocked her legs from around his waist and in one smooth step moved them over to the bench. A deep sound of discontent escaped her as he pulled out

He chuckled as he arranged her on her knees, placing her on top of the bench with her hands flat against the wall. Digging his fingers into the crease where her hips met the tops of her thighs, he yanked her ass up and back. His slick cock bobbed between her legs, taunting her.

In that sexy, amused voice, he said, “There are two things that drive vampires. Can you guess what they are?”

Dahlia’s nails scraped the marble. Her hips rolled back, desperate to find him again, but he held himself just out of reach. “Blood and fucking,” she growled, the need to be filled again narrowing her focus until she couldn’t concentrate on anything other than what he denied her.

“Close, but no.” Releasing one hip, he began to rub his cockhead up and down her slit, making sure to use extra pressure when he reached the swollen nerves at the apex before skimming back up to push inside just a little. Not nearly enough.

“Felix,” she gasped, slapping the shower wall. Her back arched, sending water down between her shoulder blades and the curve of her spine.

His breath tickled the curve of her ear when he whispered, “Feeding and breeding, pet. That’s what we’re after. A full belly, a well-bred anchor—” He thrust in to the hilt, bottoming out with enough force to make the breath explode out of her lungs. “—there’s nothing better in the fuckin’ world.”

Gripping the underside of her jaw, he pried her head back as he set a punishing pace.

The change in angle made every stroke a punishment and a reward all in one.

His voice wormed its way inside of her, keeping time with the battering of her poor cervix, stirring instincts she didn’t even know she had.

Felix nipped the corner of her jaw, his breath ragged. “Wanted to fuck you this way from the moment I saw you,” he panted. “Like you’re mine. Like you’re gonna take my venom and my come so fucking good. Is that what you wanted too, pet? To be fucked by your man until you’re his forever?”

Her senses spun. Dahlia could hardly tell where she ended and he began as an orgasm hovered just beyond her reach. The pain in her mouth doubled, making her whine and clench hard on his shuttling cock.

He slammed deep and held himself there. Breathing hard against her cheek, he growled, “Use your words, pet.”

A full-body shudder shook her. “Yes,” she gasped, hips moving in desperate, clumsy rolls in a vain attempt to regain that delicious friction. “Yes, yes. Felix, I want it!”

He pressed an incongruously gentle kiss to her cheek before his hips reared back, only to ram forward.

Dahlia’s locked arms were the only things keeping her from sliding clear off the bench as he thrust hard and fast. Her heartbeat became a blur — a hummingbird’s rhythm as her body turned into something built solely for this purpose.

For him.

Felix dropped his head to the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

One sturdy forearm pressed against her lips in a silent command as his hips began to move erratically, pumping with more urgency than finesse.

Electricity raced up her spine, tightening all of her muscles in a wave that broke when he plunged his fangs in her neck.

Now.

She didn’t remember biting him. It was pure instinct as his release splashed inside her, his cock buried deep as it could go.

The pain of his bite was drowned out by pleasure and the syrupy warmth of his venom.

His blood painted her throat and dripped from the corners of her mouth as she took everything he had to give her.

Felix grunted when her cunt clenched hard around him. The fingers of his free hand moved to where they were joined, rubbing in quick circles that made her thighs twitch.

They groaned together as she pulled just a little more from him — blood and seed both.

A long time later, they sat on the bench together, loose-limbed and sated. Dahlia curled up in his lap as he played with the ends of her hair, listening to the steady sound of his heart inside his tattooed chest.

“You love me,” he said, breaking the drowsy silence. It wasn’t a question, and she supposed it didn’t need to be.

Dahlia sighed. “Obviously.”

The “against my better judgment” went unsaid, but going by the smug chuckle that rumbled his chest, he heard it anyway.