Nectar: DD Prince (20 page)

She snickered as she fingered the spine of Interview with a Vampire. In fact, one entire shelf was dedicated to vampire books, both new and old. Dracula, The Anne Rice vampire chronicles, The Vampire Diaries, the Black Dagger Brotherhood books, Salem’s Lot, even the Twilight Saga.

When it started to get dark, the bedroom door opened and Tristan walked in. She was in the bed, just starting to read The Vampire Lestat. She’d already devoured Interview with a Vampire, envisioning Tristan instead of Louis as the main character.

He walked toward her. Was that anger on his face? He strode purposefully, his eyes seemed to be emitting heat and holding hers prisoner.
Uh oh.

She slouched back against the headboard, fear rising due to the intensity on his face. The book in her hand landed on the floor with a thud. She didn’t blink, probably didn’t even breathe.

He put a knee on the edge of the bed and then crawled toward her, stalking, almost like a lion. She covered her face with her hands. He took her wrists gently and moved them away from her face and his eyes met hers again. They stared at one another for a moment. Kyla felt like her blood pressure must’ve been through the roof.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said and at those words it slowed a little. She slowly exhaled.

He let go of her wrists and circled his hands around her head and took the elastic band out. Her long hair fell in a cascade of curls. It was still slightly damp due to having been wound tight since her bath.

“I need you,” he said, “Right now.” She was startled. His eyes were intense. Well, they were always intense… but right now they exuded something scorching hot.

He reached for her and pulled her toward him, catching her mouth with his. He kissed her hungrily. She responded, giving as good as she got right back. She let out a whimper, feeling relief wash over her as Tristan’s musky sweet sugar and caramel scent enveloped her.

He squeezed her tight, almost too tight. She revelled in that scent, that sweet and warm and comforting scent. And the taste…he tasted like something sweeter than she could have fathomed. If the past kisses were 1000 calorie desserts, this was an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet with 100,000 calories. Sugar and chocolate and maple syrup…and…whoa --- his zipper descended and then her sweatpants and underwear came down together in a bundle that didn’t even get off her ankles and he suddenly rammed hard into her. She winced at the fullness and lack of preparation but welcomed it at the same time.

“Please don’t do that again,” he whispered, breathless, then looked directly into her eyes as he rolled his hips.

Kyla nodded and reached for him. Fuck the foreplay; this was just what she needed. She wanted him to slam into her over and over and over. He leaned back and started to pull out, looking like he didn’t believe her.

“No,” she pleaded, imploring him with her eyes. She didn’t want their connection broken. She put her arms around his neck and kicked her pants off one leg so she could wrap legs around his thighs and pull him closer. He stopped her with his index finger directly on her mouth.

“You can’t test me. I don’t want you to see that side of me. It’s not meant for you, that side. Okay? I only want you safe. Please believe me.”

She nodded frantically and kissed his fingertip. She was so afraid she’d never feel him like this again. She kissed him like her life depended on it.

“We have to talk about this,” he breathed and then moaned and picked up his pace, “later.”

He rained kisses on her mouth, her cheeks, her earlobes, her throat, as he drove in over and over and over, thumb on her clit, cock slamming into her, fucking her like his life depended on it.  Kyla received every thrust like it was a gift, tears pouring down her cheeks when she climaxed. He caught every tear, kissed every one of them away, looking at her with tenderness. 

Then he climaxed and she felt like her whole body went liquid and this peace came over her. When it was over, still breathless, he caressed her face and rolled over onto his back and pulled her onto him, “All day I wanted you to come to me.”

“You were so mad at me,” she whispered, thinking about the fact that he hadn’t fed from her.

“I know.” He sniffed her hair, “Tell me how
you
feel.”

“I ---” She couldn’t speak.

“I need your words,” he said slowly but firmly and she knew they were at some sort of tipping point. She frowned. He opened his eyes wider and jerked his chin up at her, urging her to say something.

“Sorry. I…I’m sorry if I hurt you when you thought that … whatever you thought. I still don’t understand what happened there when I lost it and because it didn’t make sense and because it made me feel things so deeply, I ran. I also ran because that’s what you do when someone has you prisoner and I ran because I was scared. I don’t understand these feelings I have. I don’t understand this world I’m in. But I, I…I regret hurting you. It hurt to see pain in your eyes, hurt me so much, I couldn’t get that image out of my head. I don’t know what this is, I don’t know how to do this, Tristan. But I won’t try to take off right now. I can’t make you any promises other than that I’m willing to listen to what you have to say. I wanna know what we’re dealing with here. That might not be what you want to hear, I don’t know. I don’t know what you want but I’m trying to be honest.”

She felt magnetized but she wasn’t a paperclip this time, not a paperclip that had no choice but to get sucked into that magnet, she was north and he was south and there was a mutual pull. She started to feel very emotional. She’d had a lot of time to think in the last few days but at this moment things were suddenly gaining more clarity. She wanted to explore this, whatever this was. Wanted him. Whether it was chemistry, voodoo, or some form of entrancing, she was in. If it meant she could have these feelings, this connection, she was in. The alternative, the not feeling him, the not touching him --- the pain, unthinkable.

“You can’t run. Please don’t try. I’ll explain everything and then hopefully you’ll understand why running isn’t an option. Ever.” His voice was slightly threatening and then his eyes softened, “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Mmm hmm. The key. You surprised me, you know? You stayed there with that chain on for days when you had the key.” He brushed her hair behind an ear with his fingertips.

She whimpered and buried her head into his chest. She knew her actions didn’t make sense. Her emotions didn’t make sense, either. But what did she know about emotion, really? She’d avoided it for so long.

“I need to feed, baby. Did you eat today?” he whispered this gently.

Kyla’s heart sank. She was under no illusions about the fact that this bizarre scenario was about her blood but felt, suddenly, like she wanted this to be about something else. She wanted to separate things. She wanted to separate them both from the fear and confusion she felt.  Separate the blood from the sex. Separate imprisonment from free will. Separate the monster from the gorgeous man who made her insides liquefy when he looked at her and made her feel like never before when he touched her. Separate the blue from the black and never see or feel the black again.

He watched her, searching for answers. She leaned down and pulled her pants back up and was about to get out of the bed and go to the bathroom to wash up.  He reached for her wrist, “Where are you going? Talk to me,” he said.

“I ate,” she said flatly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You only came back for my blood.”

“No.”

“No? Really?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She fixed the seam of her cockeyed track pants and tried to blow her damp hair out of her eyes. It didn’t work so she had to push it back with her fingers.

“No,” he pulled her against him and took her face into his hands, “Definitely not. I missed you. You. I was……angry. And there’s so much I have to figure out. There’s stuff you don’t know. I needed space.”

She was suddenly pinned beneath him and he had her chin in his grip. He leaned in to kiss her but she stopped him with her palm over his mouth.

“So you punished me by chaining me up and now that you’re starving, you, you…”

He kissed her palm and then lifted her hand away by her wrist, which was now ringed with a greenish yellow where his bruises had been, “I had to keep you safe, stop you from running. But yeah, I guess I was punishing you, too. I’m not starving. But I knew you were ready and now that we’re here, I want to feed. I want to connect with you, baby.”

He was admitting that he was being a control freak. But that didn’t make it okay.

“I can’t just be okay with you chaining me up, controlling me, deciding when I’m
ready
. Let my wrists go, please, this one is still bruised. From you.” She had to set some ground rules, let him know that he couldn’t just take over like this. She didn’t ever want to give anyone carte blanche control over her life, not after her childhood. She pushed back the desire that coursed through her veins at the thought of that connection, that humming. If it’d be humming. It wouldn’t be spiders and snakes, would it?

He examined and then kissed her wrist, “I’m sorry about your wrist. I didn’t mean to bruise you. As for locking you up you didn’t let yourself out. And you had the key. Maybe you did want me to stop you from leaving because deep down you know you don’t want to leave even if your brain is telling you that you should.  Listen to your soul. It’s telling you to let me take care of you. I can hear it.” He touched her face.

“I have issues with being controlled. I guard my freedom…fiercely. You’ve been sweet to me, at times.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Kyla nodded, “But at times you’ve been a scary monster, too. You’re domineering and… and you’re addicted to my blood and…”

Tristan exhaled loudly, “You don’t understand, Kyla. You’ve seen nothing yet. You’d better get ready for a bumpy ride, baby, because I guarantee that this is not gonna to be smooth sailing. And yes, I’m addicted to your blood. But I’m addicted to you, too. And it’s pretty clear that the feeling is mutual. I feel you, I
know
it’s mutual. ”

Kyla continued, “Bumpy ride? How is that supposed to make me feel? Wouldn’t that make you wanna run?”

“You can’t run. I’m inside you. You’re inside me. If you try to run and manage to succeed at escaping for a little while, you’ll be miserable. And it’d only be for a little while because I’d find you and bring you back. I’d be angry. And I’d be hurt. You wanna keep hurting me?”

Her heart lurched forward, “I was kidnapped. You took sex from me.  Repeatedly, after I said no. That’s a four letter word starting with an r. A capital R. You drank my blood. You took blood from me for some test.  You’ve interfered with…” she started counting on her fingers, “my life, my jobs, my home, my body…” She took a deep breath and waved her arms erratically, “Then there’s all this supernatural paranormal stuff that I never even knew or believed existed.”

“So, I guess I was reading you wrong. I thought you were ready to actually discuss this. You just want to keep denying what you feel.” He stood up.

She took a deep breath, “Wait.”

He folded his arms.

“I feel that connection you’re talking about, too.  I’m not denying it; I’m just having a hard time dissecting it. I know it’s magic or a chemical reaction of some sort.” She flattened her hand across her chest at her heart for emphasis, “Things are happening when you…feed. Even when you look at me. Things I can’t articulate. I was ruined the last few days, thinking about the things you’d said, the pain on your face. Ruined. I’ve never felt so much pain, not ever, not even when ---”

She didn’t finish that sentence, “You say I’m not entranced by you but I can’t imagine how that would feel because it feels like I
am
under a spell. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt, things I shouldn’t feel! I’m doing things women who have been kidnapped just don’t do. Things I would never ever do if I was my usual self. I don’t get it. Try to understand this thing from my perspective. I got snatched out of my life and dropped in the middle of a horror movie. I have Stockholm syndrome or something fucked up like that. I’m a prisoner, and I want to climb into a cocoon and hide from you but then you look at me and you touch me and I feel things I’ve never felt. I’m not me. I’m, I just… I’m a wreck. I’m a mess and I can’t think straight. I don’t know what’s real. Being without you the last few days, it was painful. It’s an addiction, yes, but I know it’s something else, too. Something deeper than addiction and withdrawal, even. That’s pretty fricking scary for someone like me…someone who has controlled her reactions, avoided emotion… for most of her life. I don’t know how to feel, Tristan.”

They were both quiet for a minute. He was staring at the floor.

“And no, I don’t wanna keep hurting you,” she whispered.

She thrust her hands through her hair, surprised she was able to get that all out. She didn’t typically talk about her feelings, heck, didn’t even feel her feelings. It was like she was waking up inside after being numb for a long time. All that time with her thoughts and emotions was forcing her to face her feelings.

“We’re real, Kyla. We are. And if you don’t want to hurt me then stop running.” He sat down, “I don’t want you afraid of me; I just want you safe. And you
are
you. This, you telling me how you feel, this is you. You want this connection as much as I do. Just embrace it. Whether it’s magic or chemistry or what, it feels like it could be something amazing, doesn’t it?”