Page 204 of Vampires of Eden

He deserves the world.

“I really want to know what you’re planting, but I’m trying not to pester you about it.”

“Then don’t. All will reveal itself in due course.”

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist and the wind picks up, sweeping the rain sideways and creating green, blurrywaterfalls on the glass surrounding us. He shifts his head to kiss my neck. Helpless to his warmth and scent and sweetness, I close my eyes and raise my chin.

“I also really wish that we could just stay in bed today,” he says, brushing his lips against my skin so that the warmth of his breath makes me shiver. “Rainy days in bed with you are my favorite.”

“Rabbit, don’t do this to me when you need to leave.” I’m protesting, but simultaneously, I arch my lower back into his groin to feel him already hard against my ass. My lips part because the delicious verve and power of his aura makes me lose my breath.

“I would have done this in bed, like usual, but my king got up too early,” he counters, then licks the length of my neck in a sensual and slow stroke. “Why would he do that?”

“God,” I groan, writhing against him and painfully aroused. Tasting the warm air and the rain and his essence on my tongue as I inhale.

With his fingers, he pinches and plays with the waist of my sweatpants, driving me even further out of my mind. “Should I touch you?” he asks. The words drifting over me as I tilt my head back in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes…”

He slips his fingers into my underwear and the moment he grips my shaft, I rock my hips because I want more. I want everything and he knows it, but he also knows that I like to be teased. To be driven to the point of madness before he sinks his beautiful fangs into my flesh and takes from me. And yet, he fills me with the unknowable depths of his love and passion. His devotion and truth.

Alexander touches me, but I don’t touch him because my hands are dirty and I kind of like this. Being at his mercy and knowing I can trust him with my whole being. A safety that I never would have thought possible, until him.

When I’m whimpering and squirming like a desperate thing, he whispers again. “Should I feed?”

“Yes,” I exhale. “Please.”

And he does. Alexander bites down hard because he knows I love the intensity and pressure of it—the feel of his intoxicating power and confidence as he takes me. His fangs plunge into my neck and I relax into him, indulging in his beautiful mind and ferocious energy.

Skillfully, he drives me to the height of pleasure and the orgasm sweeps over me like this tumultuous spring wind. Like this tempest pouring from the sky, giving life and energy to everything it touches.

I cry out, shivering as he feeds and holds me tightly. His body is strong and capable, keeping me upright as he makes a mess of me.

When the intense pleasure softens and turns into a warm glow, Alexander pulls his fangs from my neck and licks the wound clean. I heal faster now, but it still takes a couple seconds. My eye color hasn’t changed at all, but I don’t mind.

We stand together in the rain-soaked silence and the sensation is meditative. As if we’re attuning our shared energy—always entwining ourselves a little more. Our love always shifting deeper.

He touches his forehead to my temple. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

I scoff in a laugh. He lives here, without question. But he throws this at me occasionally as a joke because only my name is on the deed to the land. He didn’t care about that at all.

As we untangle ourselves, he pulls his hand from my pants and casually sticks a finger in his mouth, like he was making a cake and got batter on his hand…

Which, he does pretty well, by the way. Bake. His cooking is just okay (this has been the hardest adjustment for him—not having a full-kitchen staff to prepare his every perfect vegan meal), but he’s successfully made blueberry muffins, oatmeal cookies and a whole vegan lemon pound cake. He says it’s because baking ismore meticulous and he’s good at following precise instructions, thanks to his mother.

“Where are we going for dinner?” he asks, unabashedly licking his fingers.

I shake my head. This man. “We haven’t discussed it yet.”

“If I’m running late tonight and you all don’t mind waiting, I can bring food back from Central?”

I take hold of his wrist, lean in and kiss his lips, indulging a bit before I step past him on the path, pulling him along with me. “I’ll ask Raph and Leoni, but yes, that sounds nice.” At the door, I pull it open, then take hold of the large umbrella. With Alexander huddled beside me, I raise the umbrella. We link arms, then rush out into the rain and back toward the cottage.

When we step through the side door to the kitchen, the rich aroma of coffee consumes my senses. We slip out of our shoes, as is our custom, then both head over to the sink. We wash our hands together, playfully bumping our hips and grinning like naughty teenagers as the rain taps the glass of the windows.

I need to change my pants and underwear, but I head over to the cabinets to get a mug. Coffee first. This is the beauty of privacy and being comfortable in our home. Being lazy about cleaning up after impromptu sex.

Hearing our movement, Buffy saunters into the kitchen, followed by Willow, a white, long-haired cat that we adopted shortly after we moved into the cottage.