I suspected he wasn’t wrong.
I didn’t tell him that.
“Now, you’re mine,” he went on, the warmth of victory turning heated, brutal, savage and fierce.
I suspected he wasn’t wrong about that either.
Boy, was I so f**ked.
His head came up, his hand pulling mine from between my legs, it lifted it, curling my arm around his waist. He tugged my camisole back over my breast, rolled deeper into me so he was almost on top of me and then he rested his hand against my neck, thumb stroking, head up, eyes locked to mine.
“Tonight, we join,” he decreed, his voice still fierce as were his eyes.
I felt something unsettling.
His eyes were blazing, the triumph blatant, searing into me, so hot, so fierce, I felt branded.
But it wasn’t the first time I felt that. I’d felt it before. Even though I knew I hadn’t. Just like earlier, when he’d closed his eyes in pain.
“Leah? Did you hear me?”
My mind was elsewhere but I still answered, “I heard you.”
“Leah,” he called, I shook off my troubling thoughts and focused on him.
“What we’ll have will be beautiful,” he told me, voice back to velvet.
I suspected he wasn’t wrong about that either.
The problem with that was, even though it would undoubtedly be beautiful, whatever it was, it would be temporary.
Tarnished beauty. Could I live with that?
“Sweetling,” velvet still but there was an odd throb to it like an ache, “whatever that is working in the backs of your eyes, let it go. You give this to me; I’ll take care of it.” His voice dipped lower before he finished, “That’s a vow.”
Of course, seeing as I was expelled from Vampire Studies, I had no idea how binding a vampire’s vow was. I had no idea they’d kill to protect it and die before they’d break it. I had no idea they’d quest to the ends of the earth for centuries to fulfill it or that they’d endure torture to keep it safe.
So, even though I believed that he believed he wasn’t feeding me a line, I knew different.
Still, with that thing in me broken, unable to keep him out any longer, I had no choice.
So I looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Okay.”
My submission was immediately rewarded.
He pulled me tight into his arms and gave me one of his demanding, bruising, possessive, branding and undeniably savage kisses that left me breathless.
Then he carried me all the way to the kitchen, deposited me on a stool, ordered a concerned, fawning Edwina and an equally concerned but not fawning Stephanie and Cosmo out of the kitchen and he made breakfast.
Amongst many other things, that morning I found out Lucien could cook.
Chapter Sixteen
The Aunties
I lay curled in the big beanbag in the comfy, seating area off the kitchen while Edwina made dinner and Avery sat on the couch, chatting to her.
Avery was who I guessed was my protector for the evening.