Page 40 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

“And what do I get in return?” Vincent asked, sounding almost breathless as he inched closer. “I’m a respected business owner, you know. I don’t do anything for free.”

That should be a red flag, right? “I’m sure you’ll think of something.

” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

He covered up the slip by leaning up and capturing Vincent’s lips with his own.

They were soft and tentative at first, Vincent’s lips as cool as they always were, brushing against Adam’s as they melted together, breathing in each other’s sighs, tasting desire on each other’s tongues.

Vincent broke away first, his lips tracing Adam’s jawline down to his neck, his hands gripping Adam’s hips, tugging him closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

“You’re still injured,” Vincent muttered against his neck.

“And I wasn’t exactly in control of myself last time. I’ll end up hurting you again…”

“That’s not a deal breaker for me,” Adam whispered. He placed his hand on the center of Vincent’s bare chest and couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand wander, fingers trembling slightly as they explored .

His skin felt even smoother than it looked beneath Adam’s burning touch.

There was something intoxicating about feeling the hard muscles rippling just beneath the skin.

Adam’s fingers tangled in the tempting dusting of chest hair and traced the ridges of Vincent’s sculpted abs.

He slid his palm down Vincent’s torso, feeling the vampire’s stomach tighten beneath his touch.

Vincent let out a deep, throaty groan as he pushed his hardening groin up against Adam’s hip, the rigid length of him unmistakable through the thin fabric separating them.

Vincent nipped at his ear as he ground against him, creating a delicious friction that made Adam gasp. “How about this? I’ll show you what I can do if you can get on top of me. If not, we put this on pause and go to sleep.”

Challenge accepted. Adam shoved Vincent back as hard as he could, surprised with how easily the vampire rolled onto his back on the bed, and swung his leg over Vincent’s hips.

He hissed as the pain in his ankle exploded, making white spots dance in his vision and his back burning from the sudden force of the movement.

But the throbbing between his legs was more urgent.

He pressed his hands down on Vincent’s shoulders, straddling his hips and pressing his knees into the mattress to make up for the imbalance between his legs.

“You were saying?” he gritted through his teeth.

“You always find a way to surprise me,” Vincent said, grabbing Adam’s hips and digging his fingers into the flesh there. “What if I don’t want to tell you yet?”

Adam couldn’t see his face in the dark, but he knew Vincent was smirking as he said that.

He could hear that predatory playfulness that had once made his blood run cold.

Now it just made him desperate to wipe any smug expression off the vampire’s face.

Preferably with his dick thrust between those perfect lips. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What if it freaks you out? I hate to admit it, but I do like having you around. I don’t want to make you run away. It’ll break my cold, dead heart,” he teased as he hooked his index fingers into the waistband of Adam’s pants, the backs of his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin beneath.

“I haven’t run away yet,” Adam leaned down, seeking Vincent’s mouth in the darkness like a man parched. The need to taste him again overwhelmed everything.

Vincent lifted Adam and flipped their positions in one fluid, forceful movement that left Adam breathless. “And you never will,” Vincent promised against Adam’s parted lips before he claimed his mouth in a savage kiss.

Is that red flag number two since the do-over? Adam’s rational mind flickered briefly before drowning in sensation as he slid his hands up Vincent’s arms, digging his fingertips into the unyielding muscle.

Who fucking cares.

“Fine, I’ll show you.” Vincent traced a crooked finger down Adam’s cheek. The touch seemed innocent, almost tender.

Then heat erupted from Vincent’s fingertip, searing through him like molten metal poured into his veins.

It tore through his core with violent intensity before exploding in his groin, spreading outward with the force of a detonation, leaving him gasping and writhing.

Every nerve ending screamed for pleasure so acute it bordered on agony.

The need to be touched, to be filled, to be taken became primal, overwhelming—he wanted to tear his skin off just to feel Vincent against his bare nerves.

He needed those lethal hands everywhere at once: gripping his ass, stroking his cock, inside him, claiming him completely.

“Oh FUCK,” he cried out, his own voice unrecognizable as he bucked upward, desperately chasing more of that devastating sensation, willing to beg for it.

Or die for it.

Vincent slid his hand down Adam’s chest and the feeling vanished with such brutal suddenness that Adam nearly sobbed. His body seized, the pleasure vacuum-sealed away, leaving him trembling violently with unsatisfied need. “Like I said, not terribly useful,” Vincent mused.

Adam’s entire body convulsed, muscles spasming uncontrollably as though he’d been electrocuted.

His breathing came in ragged, desperate gasps.

He’d experimented with so many substances, designer drugs, hallucinogens that promised transcendent experiences, but nothing had even approached the catastrophic intensity of Vincent’s touch.

“Do it again,” he gasped, past pride or pretense.

“No.” Vincent’s tone grew firm, protective. “You need to rest, and I can’t control the beast in me when you’re like this.”

Adam lay there for a moment, processing what had just happened. Vincent had shown him something incredible, then immediately pulled back. Not because he didn’t want to continue, but because he was worried about consent.

That’s…actually really thoughtful.

But his body still hummed with residual energy, every nerve ending alive and crackling from that brief taste of Vincent’s ability. Sleep seemed impossible now.

The mattress shifted as Vincent settled beside him, and Adam couldn’t just lie there pretending to sleep. Not after that. Not when Vincent was so close, his presence cool and intoxicating beside him.

He slid his hand beneath the blanket, fingers tracing the waistband of his pants. He imagined it was Vincent’s hand, those long, cool fingers exploring his heated skin.

Vincent’s hand snaked over his, stilling his movements. “I thought you were going to rest,” Vincent whispered.

A smug smile tugged at the corners of Adam’s mouth. “You never said I couldn’t.” He was emboldened by the darkness and the lingering effects of Vincent’s touch. He pressed his hand against Vincent’s, resuming his slow, deliberate movements, sliding both of their hands into his boxers.

Vincent’s grip tightened, not stopping him but not quite encouraging him either.

His breathing hitched, a soft, almost imperceptible sound that sent a thrill of satisfaction through Adam and made his cock pulse in his hand.

Some part of him wanted to see a glimpse of that beastly side again, just to see what would happen.

Vincent’s other hand slipped beneath Adam’s neck, fingers gently encircling his throat as Adam began to jerk off. The sensation was intoxicating, a dance with

something dangerous that sent his senses reeling.

Adam’s hand moved faster, his grip tightening as he chased the release that hovered just out of reach.

“You want me to lose control?” Vincent murmured. “You want me to hold you down, to make you beg for me?”

Adam nodded, a sound of pleasure escaping his lips. He had started this as a means to an end, a quick release to take the edge off. But with Vincent’s hands on him, he wanted to draw it out.

Vincent’s hand remained firm over Adam’s, guiding the pace, but his voice dipped low, a growl that seemed to vibrate through the dark room. “Is this what you want, Adam?” His fingers flexed, a hint of pressure against Adam’s throat. “Answer me.”

Adam’s chest heaved. He nodded, a small, jerky motion, as he whispered, “Yes.”

Vincent’s chuckle was a low rumble, a sound that seemed to resonate within Adam’s chest. “I was planning on being more gentle with you.” His hand tightened around Adam’s, their fingers intertwined as they moved together. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Adam’s eyes fluttered closed, unable to answer, his body arching into Vincent’s touch. The pleasure was intense, a burning heat that spread from his groin to every nerve ending. He could feel the edge approaching, a precipice that promised both ecstasy and oblivion.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. What if I break you?” His hand tightened around Adam’s, their movements becoming faster, more desperate. “Will you still crave me, even when you’re in pieces?”

Adam’s body tensed, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. He was close, so close. “Y-yes. Yes, I’ll still crave you. I’ll always crave you.”

Vincent’s grip tightened. “Come for me, Adam. Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want me.”

Adam’s body convulsed, his release crashing over him like a wave. He cried out, the sound echoing in the dark room. Vincent’s hand remained on his, their fingers intertwined, as Adam rode out the storm.

As the last shudders of his orgasm subsided, Adam lay there, his body limp, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

He felt Vincent’s cool fingers tracing around his back, the gentle touch sending small shivers down his spine. The fingertips moved with deliberate care, barely grazing the sensitive skin surrounding his wounds.

“What are you doing?” Adam murmured, his voice thick with approaching sleep.

“Just making sure your stitches are still in place,” Vincent replied, pressing a kiss into his shoulder.

Adam hummed in response, too exhausted to form words. The adrenaline had drained from his system, leaving him boneless against the mattress. Vincent’s hand moved from his back to his hair, stroking through the tangled strands.

“Rest now,” he whispered against Adam’s skin. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The assurance settled over Adam like a blanket, warm and secure.

He’d spent so many nights alone, so many mornings waking up to empty beds and half-remembered faces.

The thought of Vincent staying, of opening his eyes to find those ice-blue ones looking back at him, filled a void he hadn’t realized was there.

As Vincent continued stroking his hair, Adam felt himself drifting toward sleep. His mind, usually racing with intrusive thoughts and regrets, grew quiet under Vincent’s touch. The vampire who had once terrified him now brought a strange comfort, a sense of safety he hadn’t felt in years.

It was contradictory, the feeling of being both protected and possessed.

Vincent could snap his neck with a flick of his wrist, yet those same hands now cradled him with impossible tenderness.

The vampire demanded control yet gave Adam a freedom he’d never experienced—freedom from pretense, from having to be strong, from having to make the right choices.

The realization hit him with surprising clarity as sleep began to claim him: he was falling in love with Vincent. Not with the idea of him, not with the danger he represented, but with the complexity of him, the monster and the man, the cruelty and the kindness.

It should have terrified him. It should have sent him running for the door, prosthetic or no prosthetic. Instead, as consciousness slipped away, Adam felt only a profound sense of rightness, as though all the broken pieces of himself had finally found where they belonged.