Jess Haines: Enslaved By the Others

I squirmed a bit to get out from beneath him, moving closer to the headboard so I could grab a pillow to hug to my chest. He frowned, but didn’t try to stop me, only edging closer so he could settle in the pillows beside me.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I know we’ve been over this before, but my head is like a goddamn hamster wheel, spinning around the same crap over and over again. After what I just went through, it’s even harder to let it go.”

He set a hand on my upper thigh, lightly running his fingertips over my skin. His gaze stayed firmly focused on where his hand rested rather than looking me in the eye.

“Your worry is perfectly understandable. Had you not been taken by Max, it would still be forgivable for you to suffer some trepidation considering how little you know of me or my motivations.”

That said, he tilted his head, studying my face as his hand on my leg stilled. The intensity of his depthless black gaze was a bit unnerving, truth be told.

“I want to be worthy of your trust. I want to earn it. You have no idea how pathetic I felt, sending you away, missing you and worrying that you wouldn’t want to come back to me. Being afraid that you wouldn’t miss me, too. Me, the Master of New York, pining like a fool,” he said, with a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. “All these years spent building a kingdom around a reputation for being the most ruthless, unfeeling, vicious monster in the country, and all it took to rip away that mask was a scared little girl—a frightened mortal who is braver than she’ll ever admit to herself or anyone else—reminding me of the value of freedom and mercy.”

He slid his hand into mine, pulling it to his lips so he could brush a kiss over my knuckles. Speechless, I watched his actions, but didn’t move, trying to process what he had to say.

“If you need more time, you need only say the word. You have tamed the savage beast, little hunter. I am yours to command.”

I thought about it, considering the power that admission gave me over him.

“You know, I’m tired of being scared. I want to trust you. I don’t want to be afraid of you. Not even a little bit. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let my fears or memories of someone else ruin my life. I guess what I’m getting at is just ... be patient with me for a little bit longer while I get my shit together. Please.”

He laughed, patting my leg. “So eloquent. Yes, I can be patient for you. Would you rather sleep alone tonight? I’ll understand if you need more time.”

I sat up straighter, clutching the pillow tighter as my gaze wandered over his sprawled, naked frame, lingering a bit too long at the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. He was all coiled grace and muscle, ready to spring into action if I gave him the word. Yet he was perfectly willing to leash that desire, just for me, to wait as long as I needed to get myself together. It wasn’t fair to make him wait. Not to him, and not to me.

I wanted him. I wanted him so badly I ached. And I wasn’t going to let the ghost of phobias past stop me from having him.

“Alec,” I said, tossing the pillow aside so I could crawl on top of him, with a lot less grace than the vampire, “we’re starting over. Right now. Right this minute. We’re making this better. I’m making this better. I’m having my happily ever after, damn it, and if you stop me, so help me God, I will ... I’ll . . . I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty.”

This time, his laughter was a bit more hearty, and maybe a bit relieved. He rolled onto his back, his hands settling at my waist as he grinned up at me. “As my lady commands. By all means, have your way with me.”

Last time we’d spent the night together, he had made it a point to get to know every part of me. Exploring every inch of my body, learning exactly where to touch me to make me into a quivering mess. Now, it was my turn.

I ran a finger down his chest, tracing the curvature of every scar, bone, and muscle, familiarizing myself with his skin. His own hands slid down to my ass, kneading lightly, but otherwise doing nothing to distract me from the task at hand. I got the idea he knew what I wanted.

He hissed softly when I leaned down and traced the same paths with my tongue. His grip on me tightened when I bit his nipple, my fingers tweaking the other, mimicking the light pinch of my teeth. His skin was cool and satiny under my touch, intriguing rather than putting me off.

“Naughty,” he whispered, and I grinned, glancing up to waggle my brows at him. His laugh faded into a groan as I ground my hips against him to let him know he wasn’t the only one turned on right now.

Inching my way down his body, I kissed and licked and nipped my way along the trail of dark hair leading to the juncture of his thighs. His fingers slid up my sides and along my ribs to tangle in my hair, and I’ll admit I took a bit too much enjoyment being the one with the power this time around. This close, his scent, musky and male, made it easy to sink into the moment and forget about all the things that had me worried before.

Even an ancient vampire could only take so much. As his growl took on a deeper edge, his absent shifting growing impatient with the feel of my breath on the most sensitive of skin, I took him into my mouth. Like velvet ice, cool and slick against my tongue. His back arched, just a bit, the low sound he made filling me with a delicious warmth at knowing that I was the one responsible for dragging that reaction out of him.

Judging by the rhythmic way his fingers tightened by my scalp, he was enjoying the hell out of this. When I tilted my head just a bit so I could catch a glimpse of his face, the hint of vermillion in his eyes and carnal twist of his lips, exposing his fangs, sent a thrill down my spine.

When the muscles in his abdomen began to tighten, I gasped as I found myself on my back, him looming over me, no freaking clue how it had happened. He must have moved like lightning, shoving me into the bedding. His ragged—and entirely unnecessary—breathing told me better than anything else that I hadn’t lost my touch.

“That,” he said, breathless and lisping very slightly around fangs, “was delightful, but unless you wish to risk being bound again, best not to finish that way.”

Once my heart worked its way out of my throat and back down in my chest where it belonged, I wrinkled my nose as the meaning of his words hit me. “Okay, ew. Talk about a mood killer.”

He ducked his head between my neck and shoulder, nibbling at the skin there before his lips drifted up to whisper in my ear. “I’ll just have to do something about that, won’t I?”

I poked at his chest. “My turn, remember? Roll your ass over.”

That gave him pause. He pulled back, probably checking to see if I meant it. With a growing smile, he did as I demanded, remaining obediently still as I moved to straddle him again.

Pausing before doing anything else, I frowned down at him. “Should you be wearing a condom? Am I going to—”

“No, sweet. It’s only an issue if you swallow any fluids. An enzyme in your saliva keeps the virus from breaking down before it gets into the bloodstream. Though if it worries you, I suppose I can send someone out to pick some up—”

“No! No, that’s fine.” My turn to cut him off. This was a subject I did not want to explore, now, or maybe ever. Cripes, I couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of facing Mouse or Clarisse or whoever he would send out on that little errand. Besides, I trusted his word. If it were really a problem, then chances were after the last few times we’d had sex, I would have been permanently bound already. With a shrug, I shoved all those weird thoughts to the back of my mind, reached for him, and grinned. “Well then. Let’s get this party started.”