Page 125 of Vampires of Eden

I won’t, though. Not this time.

Not anymore.

CHAPTER 28

Daniel

The words slip out on a breath and from the depths of my soul.

“Please don’t stop.”

I have him in my grasp. He finally seems relaxed and I’m praying to God, fate and the universe that he doesn’t back away again.

I need this.

I needhim.

On my own, I do alright. I’ve accepted my choices and the ensuing consequences. Day to day my body aches. I’m tired and my nature is weak. But I’ve grown accustomed to it. It’s my reality. My fate.

Being around Alexander challenges this fate. The vibrant, unequivocal pull of his nature and its desire for me brings everything into question.

Maybe, I’m not meant to endure this suffering for the rest of my existence. Maybe, I can trust him. Maybe, we could fall in love.

Alexander’s mouth is hot on mine and he tastes to me like electrified sun-kissed oranges. Gently, his aura radiates and hugs the outside of his body. His energy resonates like a citrus grovebending and swaying in an early-summer wind—refreshing to my tired body and weak aura. Invigorating and enticing.

He lifts from my lips and his eyelids are heavy. His nose brushes mine before he kisses the corner of my mouth, my cheek and down the curve of my jawline until he’s nestled in the crook of my neck. I tilt my chin up, breathing and wanting him to take me in some carnal and visceral way.

A surge of energy courses through my body. I had felt stiff, but I’m revitalized as I push against his chest and urge him onto his back. He forfeits, tumbling and I follow the trajectory of his frame to settle on top of him. Resting on one hand, I position myself with my knees on either side of his hips, then simply take him in. This striking man with his golden irises, aroused and finally in my bed.

Alexander rests his hands at my waist, surprised by my action. As he takes a breath and opens his mouth to say something, I dip down and kiss him once more. His fingertips tense and dimple the naked skin beneath my t-shirt just above my underwear, but he relinquishes, softening his jaw and melting into the sensual rhythm of our mouths glued and moving.

I’m tired of talking.

I love talking to him. I do. But I can’t anymore.

Not right now.

The passion is centered in our connection. Between our lips and his tongue searching and tasting mine. In the blind heat and delicious fervor of it, my hips reflexively rock against his shaft. Slow and languid, because I want to take my time feeling him. His hardness and solidity. His glorious, effervescent presence and exotic scent.

I lift from the kiss, but steadily grind against his cock, which is already hard and pinned against my thigh. We’re so close that I can feel and taste his breath as we stare into each other’s eyes. His are glowing. Always shimmering for me and his lips are parted. He breathes in shallow, quiet gasps with his attention solely fixated on me and my movement as if he’s in atrance.

I kiss him again, delicately, teasing as I still my hips and shift one hand down in-between our bodies. His pajama bottoms are soft to touch. Warm and undoubtedly expensive as my palm grazes the fabric, reaching for the hard center of him.

When my palm caresses the outline of his cock, I close my fingers and squeeze. A small, unexpected sound escapes his throat on a huff. It makes me smile. I kiss him again as his hands start to explore.

Gingerly, he drags them up the center of my spine at my lower back. The tips of his fingers trace the concave of my bare skin. It tickles and feels hot and sensual and makes me writhe even though my hand is trapped between our bodies, still gripping him.

The color and essence of our atmosphere shifts. A profound weight and emotion that is invisible, and yet, undeniable. Our inner natures speak loudly now. Shutting out the distractions we’ve been wrestling with. Communicating with each other in their ancient and mythical way.

Responding to some truth that neither of us fully understands, but can no longer ignore.

I lift from his body and reach toward the side drawer of my nightstand. Alexander’s hands linger on my back, not allowing me to go too far. There’s lotion there—not lube—but it’ll have to do.

His eyes are luminous in the sunlit room. Neither of us speaks as I spread the lotion on my hand, then toss the bottle away. Inhaling a breath, I pull my underwear down with my dry hand, just enough to free my own arousal.

Alexander blinks, his chest rising sharply and falling as he stares with his palms resting on my thighs. His aura burns hotter beneath me as I lather myself, biting my lip and reveling in the abundance of sensations. “You, too,” I tell him. “Show me.”

Obedient, he lifts his hips, gently, so that he doesn’t unsettle me on top of him and slips his pajama pants and underwear down. When his cock is free, I crawl back down and fold myselfinto his body, resting on my elbow once more and taking hold of the two of us in my slick palm.