Ambrosia (Nectar Trilogy, Book 2)

by Prince, DD

The bathroom door flew wide open, crashing loudly into the wall. Tristan’s eyes were huge. They were still blue but his mouth was open. He looked absolutely livid. He obviously smelled it from outside the door!

  Blue. Don’t turn black, don’t turn black!

  She winced and applied pressure with a washcloth, dropping the razor onto the floor, staring up at him horror-struck. His eyes landed on the razor and then followed up to her face, almost in slow motion.

  She raised her palm at him to halt him, “Sorry! It was an accident. Go, go, go! Hurry, get out. I’ll get it to stop.”

  He fell to his knees beside the tub and put his head in his hands.

  “Tristan,” she whimpered, starting to tremble hard, “Go out. I’ll make it stop. Please.”

  He was shaking his head and taking slow and deep breaths.

  Oh no.

  Shaving your legs near a vampire was beyond dumb, of course it was, but never in her life had she cut her legs shaving before.

  I’m so fuckin’ stupid. Don’t turn gray, don’t turn gray!

  She shakily applied pressure tight to her ankle with a wet washcloth and prayed for the bleeding to stop. It was like time stood still. Then he looked up at her. His face looked normal. His eyes looked normal. She didn’t know what to do so she just sat, wide-eyed. The water was still running and the tub was only minutes away from overflowing. She held the washcloth tighter.

  He leaned over and turned the taps off. She swallowed hard.

  “Lift the cloth.”

  She didn’t move. It was like she was paralyzed. Tristan huffed in a, ‘I’ll do it myself’ manner and leaned over and lifted her ankle slightly and took the cloth from her hand. For a split second it looked okay. Relief washed over her.

  Then she saw the red dot spring forward again. She choked on a sob, feeling fear grip her heart as it grew in diameter. She gripped the side of the tub and braced the other hand against the tiled wall to steady herself. Tristan leaned over and put the tip of his tongue to the spot. Kyla’s eyes very nearly bulged from her head.

  ‘Ahhh,” he groaned loud as her blood touched his tongue and he leaned back for a second and exhaled in slow and staggered breaths. It seemed like that moment was suspended in time. Would he lunge and kill her? Would he be okay? He let go of her ankle and rose from a squat, up straight.

  “Bed. Now,” he commanded.

  Huh?

  He arched a brow at her, looking so unbelievably sexy she thought she might spontaneously combust. She felt a mixture of fear and desire surge through her at the exact same time. She was immobile.

  “What part of now don’t you understand?” He flashed a grin.

  She gulped, got up, and not-so-steadily reached for the towel but he scooped her out of the tub before she got to it and in a nanosecond, she was on her back on the bed and his shirt was up and over his head. He spread her legs wide and first licked the ankle wound that was now punctuated by a fat droplet of blood and then his tongue traveled up her leg past her knee, up her inner thigh, and landed directly on her more-than-ready wet, hot, and very much wanting girlie parts.

  She almost detonated on the spot. His mouth on her, down there, his eyes, filled with passion, looking very much like a man on a mission. Brilliant blazing blue and hungry, he didn’t have black eyes. He didn’t have gray skin. He seemed okay.

  “Oh yeah, babe,” she moaned. Oh yes, yes, yes!

  “Let it go and come hard, baby. This is gonna be fast. I’m gonna bite as soon as you hit it.”

  She never would’ve guessed that a few words would take her over the edge like that but those, along with his tongue, and along with his unshaven jaw causing friction on her inner thighs did. They so did. His voice and his tongue lifted her to a celestial place and she free-fell into a gust of sensation that spurted everywhere. At what would’ve been the tail end of her climax he extended it by connecting with his teeth, right on that spot on her inner thigh where he’d bit her the very first time.

  She felt the hum, a blooming, and then a tidal wave surged through her. At first it was painful, then sweet, and then confused, then dark and angry, and then soft and sweet again.

  It was like an orchestra was in her veins and there were different instruments playing at varying tempos. Sweet and melodic harps, angry dueling violins; it alternated from pain to sweet pain to amazing. It was different. It was scary. It was exciting. She felt dizzy. She was spinning and spinning and her body started to tremble as she hit yet another peak and her mouth opened.

  Sensation swirled as she looked down at the man she loved, loving every hair on his head, every tooth in his mouth, and every emotion he was nourishing her with. She had a moment of clarity.

  He helps me feel; helps me want to feel.

  She heard his zipper and then he grunted her name as he was about to thrust his cock into her.

  “Wait,” she breathed and flipped, pushed him onto his back, crawling backwards down his body, and took the tip of him into her mouth. She twirled her tongue around and then wrapped her lips tight and applied suction.

  He let out a sexy groan and gently gripped the back of her head. Kyla couldn’t take all of him in but used her hands to compensate for the areas that couldn’t fit into her mouth. He seemed to be enjoying every minute of it but abruptly pulled back.

  “Mmm, Tristan…” she pouted; wanting him to finish that way --- wanting him to come apart under her.

  “I need to be inside you. Now.” He flipped her and then in an instant thrust deep into her, eased out, and then began a rhythm of depth and gyration. He slammed repeatedly into her, holding her face and staring into her eyes. She touched his face and then realized his eyes were turning black.

  She gasped, “Oh, Tristan. Don’t. Please, baby.” She felt like the bottom was dropping out on her. Oh fuck. Not now.

  “No, s’okay. I’m fine,” he breathed reassuringly and then his eyes were bluish and she felt anchored again, “I’m better than fine. Tell me you love me.”

  “I do. I love you.”

  “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.” Relief washed over her.

  “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you so much.”

  “Never leave me again.”

  “Okay, babe.”

  His voice went hoarse and his eyes went black again, “Never.”

  “Never.”

  “Tell me no one will ever fucking touch you but me. Ever!”

  She gasped, fear spiking at his intensity, at how his eyes were gray.

  “Tell me!” he demanded.

  “Never. No one.”

  “No fucking one! You love me?” His voice softened. The look in his eyes was so soft.

  “Yes.”

  “Say it again, baby.”

  “I love you,” she caressed his face and his eyes were blue again.

  “Again,” it was a plea.

  “I love you. I love you.”

  “Even though this is fucked up and I’m dangerous and I’m damned to hell?”

  Her heart sank, “You’re changing. It’s not too late. You’re not damned.”

  “I wish you were right. Dig your nails into my back. I’m going for your throat. Hang on tight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Would he be able to stop?

  “Now, Kyla.”

  She grabbed his shoulders and held on tight. When he bit in the same war flew through her veins but even more powerfully. Possession, protectiveness, love, bliss, hunger. It was dizzying. She started to weep. She could taste rocky road ice cream. She could smell sugary marshmallows mixed with fire. Her veins and her core ebbed and flowed with pleasure and pain. He pounded and pounded and drank and drank, fingers digging into her hips. It felt so good. It felt so right. It felt like it was what she was made for. She was nothing but sensation, nothing but his.

  “I really really love you,” she wept, and the orgasm gripped hard. He let go of her throat and arched his back as her nails dug in. His mout
h was open, his face was ecstasy-filled, and his eyes were darker, blue flame-colored. He shuddered as he found his release.

  “You’re mine and I’m yours,” he said tenderly and feathered kisses all over her face, “We’re forever, princess.”

  She brushed her hair out of her eyes and wrapped her body around his, feeling light and airy, feeling whole.

  “That was…” she started but couldn’t finish. Fucking amazing!

  She looked at his face. His eyes were closed but he had a little smile on his lips. She touched the cleft on his chin and planted a kiss on his full soft lips.

  “Your eyes kept changing colour. They were like disco lights,” she whispered.

  His eyes opened. They were his usual blue. He frowned.

  “We made it,” she whispered, “we survived.”

  His expression relaxed and he let out a sigh. “We did.”

  He pulled her closer, “A million tonnes just lifted off my shoulders,” he said.

  If only that was the whole war.

  “Talk to me. Tell me what was going on inside of you. Tell me what else I need to know.”

  “Want a drink?” He went to get up.

  “I’ll get it. Gotta wash up, anyway. You? Water, coke, grape?”

  “Water.”

  She pulled away and then spotted blood on her nails. She gasped and looked at them.

  “Tristan!” she exclaimed, “Turn over.”

  His back was scratched and bleeding in a few places, only lightly, but there were distinct nail marks.

  “You’re bleeding!” Oh shit!

  “Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s go wash your hands.” He jumped up and guided her to the bathroom. He turned the taps on and soaped her hands up, rubbing them gently, rinsing them under the water.

  “Tigress,” he purred in her ear. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

  “Keep rinsing,” he told her, kissed her temple, ran his tongue from her clavicle up to her earlobe, and then he disappeared back into the bedroom.

  She let the hot water run over her hands for a good 2-3 more minutes, scrubbing her hands and using her nails to scrape under her other nails.

  Tristan’s blood? Wow, scary.

  She went to her purse and pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer she’d always carried and saturated her fingertips with it, then went back to the washroom and got cleaned up, then got drinks from their bags and put extras into the mini fridge and then passed him a bottle and opened a can of grape soda pop for herself and guzzled half of it and then threw herself back on the bed, feeling exhausted.

  She examined her nails again, “You okay?”

  “So much more than okay.” His voice was husky. He leaned over and let out a little growl into her ear.

  She smirked and lifted her leg up in the air and then examined the ankle.

  “I only shaved a quarter of a leg. Either I need to finish or not wear shorts tomorrow.”

  He touched the tiny, now lightly scabbed-over, razor wound.

  “It was the perfect amount. I smelled it and rushed in here before I could stop myself and then I felt something in me, something lifting my confidence. I tasted it and it was a tiny amount but I felt stronger, yet I was in control and knew I could handle a real feed. I thought it’d push it back by drinking, that maybe that’s why it was so close to the surface, because I hadn’t fed from you. But I’m different. It’s all different. It’s not two personalities, I’m one. But I’m different. I have to get to know myself again. I can’t explain but I need to know my limits; right now I feel like a stranger to myself. Stronger but a stranger. Does that make sense? I don’t know what’d happen if you got your period but I’m closer to being in control now than I was.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair and nuzzled in,

  “At least we have time. Thank God. We’re going to figure this out, Tristan.”

  “We are,” he kissed her forehead.

  “Let’s run, Kyla. Let’s go out for a run. Now.”

  “Really? I’m shattered.”

  “I feel like a billion bucks. A hundred billion bucks.”

  “I won’t be able to keep up. My body feels like spaghetti. That was a seriously intense session there, Mr. Vampire.”

  “Follow me in the car.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I need to run and can’t leave you alone. Follow me in the car, okay?”

  ~~~

  An hour later they were back at the motel. Tristan didn’t feel the need to sweep the room before relaxing, saying he smelled nothing new, and Kyla was relieved. She was spent. She collapsed onto the bed.

  They’d driven to a highway back road and then he’d gotten out and jogged while she drove slowly behind him, with the blinkers on as he ran, praying no police would spot them. It was uneventful, thankfully.

  “I’m getting’ a shower” he said, “Leaving the door open. Don’t go to sleep yet. If anyone knocks or anything odd happens, you come into the bathroom immediately, okay? Anything odd at all. I’ll be fast.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled and yawned.

  He leaned over and grabbed her chin, “Okay?” his eyes were dead serious.

  “I said okay,” she was irritated.

  “You don’t seem to understand the gravity here,” he growled.

  “No, Tristan, gravity understood; I get it. Just leave the door open.”

  She did not like his tone, nor the aggressive intensity coming off him. She grabbed his wrist and pried him away from her chin with a pointed stare and very pointed thoughts about being manhandled.

  He took a breath, “You don’t know how dangerous it’d be if he got to you.”

  “Uh, yeah, I can imagine. Do you want me freaking out while you’re in there? How’s that going to make you feel? Want me to come sit in the bathroom while you shower?”

  “Yeah, I do. Shower with me.”

  “Too tired. Just be fast.”

  She curled under the blanket and flicked the TV on. She heard the shower turn on. He left the door open and the shower curtain open so he could see her.

  “You’re drenching the floor!” she called, yawning, staring at his naked body.

  Yum.

  She fought sleep, watching his strong corded arms and large strong hands move up and down his sudsy body but even his personification of male beauty wasn’t enough to keep her awake after those earth-shattering orgasms and the fact that she’d had to drive behind him running for all that time.

  By the time he got into bed a few minutes later, she’d been dozing. He got in bed beside her, smelling like soap and shampoo and toothpaste, and feeling all warm and hard. He cupped her between the legs and slid one, then two fingers inside as he tongued her earlobe.

  He was being more possessive than ever. She imagined it must be because someone was after them and out to take her from him. Maybe it was the beast inside of him, too, the addiction to the nectar. She moaned, feeling so tired, but not able to resist. She arched back into him and parted her legs wider.

  After a quick romp and a spectacular climax where he did all the work, she went to get up to go wash up.

  “Need to pee?” He asked.

  She shook her head, “No, just need to clean-up.”

  “No,” he murmured, “don’t wash me away.”

  “Mmm-kay.”

  She sighed happily and nuzzled in and drifted off to sleep wrapped tight in his embrace. As they fell asleep, her thoughts drifted back to when he first started to explain what he knew of their bond. He’d said a woman with enchanted blood bonded to a vampire would fight to the death before letting another vampire feed from her.

  After what happened tonight, after the idea of another woman with him and how it made her feel, what it made her want to do…would that turn Kyla into some sort of warrior if Liam Donovan did find them? She didn’t want to think on that now.

  She was so relieved that they’d gotten the awkwardness out of the way --- feeding and making love. And that it hadn’t
gone horribly wrong after all. It had been more than frightening when his eyes kept changing, like he was teetering between personalities. But it had gone okay. She fell into slumber with a small hope that maybe things would be okay after all.

  -4-

  “We make one another feel,” she whispered to him, rubbing her thumb pad up and down the cleft on his chin. They were in bed, lying on their sides and facing one another.

  The sun was starting to rise and she’d woken up to him watching her sleep. She’d nuzzled into his chest, then looked up into his eyes and they’d stared at one another for a long time before they started to talk.

  “I’m not whole if I’m not with you,” he answered, “I feel so much now.”

  “Me either. And me, too. I used to bury my feelings, ignore them, run from them, do whatever I had to do to not stop and feel them. Not now,” she said, knowing that her emotions didn’t just impact her; they impacted him, too.

  “Good. I feel your feelings. They’re amazing. You should feel them, too. What I like best about feeling your feelings is how you feel when you feel my feelings. Now, that’s incredible.” He traced her ear with the ridge of his thumb, “It’s like mirroring.”

  “Mirroring?”

  “Ever put a mirror in front of another mirror and it just reflects endlessly?”

  “Yeah,” she smiled. She knew just what he meant.

  “That’s what it feels like when you feel what I feel.”

  “Some of them, my feelings, they aren’t fun, though,” she winced, “I’ve gone from pushing emotion away to obsessing about everything. I’m driving myself cuckoo.”

  “It’ll get better. I promise to do my best to keep the seesaw leaning in the fun direction, as much as possible, okay?”

  “Kay. What’s the plan today?”

  “We get as much road behind us as possible. Tomorrow night we’ll be in Southern Nevada. We’ll stop there and stay the night.”

  “Vegas?” Her eyes lit up and she sat up. Las Vegas had been something she’d always wanted to do. She loved the idea that many hotels had different themes so it was like you were in Paris, then in New York City, and then in Rio, and then in Egypt, and then medieval times and all in the same day if you wanted. Shows, slot machines, doing the touristy thing. It sounded fun. Sounded normal.