“What are we doing?” she whispered.
Christopher frowned. He turned his back to her and grabbed his phone. “Hello?”
Chapter Twelve
Life is a gift in which every moment counts.
Christopher ran his fingers through his hair. Once, he’d believed the same. Back when he was young. Human. When his maker had offered him eternity, he’d welcomed it with open arms.
The idea of living forever, of being able to experience everything he’d ever dreamed of, and more, had seemed like a heaven-sent gift. For a while, he’d enjoyed it. Then things changed. He went into hiding, living in perpetual darkness. He could no longer mingle with the people he cared about, for he never aged. And then, they started dying. People came and went, one after the other. Cities changed, growing, breaking, and being built again. He endured, day by day, beginning to yearn for a freedom which would never come.
Regret and sorrow consumed his days and nights. Memories of people he’d never see again appeared before him like mirages in an oasis.
Then, Santa came along and for a brief time, the world became beautiful again, but that didn’t last. Until now. Until Samantha.
How many days had he known her? Barely a handful, but he couldn’t get past the fact she made him feel an array of emotions he’d forgotten existed. Christopher clenched his fists. He wanted more. To hold her again, to feel the warmth of her frame pressed to his and the tiny, mewling sounds which escaped her as they kissed.
More.
To watch her eyes widen with amazement. To see her smile and hear her laughter.
More.
To make her his. Permanently.
It would never happen. He would never ask her to forsake her joy for his. He’d made that mistake once.
There is no beauty in forever.
He still carried those words with him. The weight was heavy on his shoulders and a constant reminder of what he was.
He glanced at Samantha’s reflection in the elevator mirror as they went up to his office. The pain in his chest struck him, something which had been so alien at first, slowly becoming familiar and welcoming because it meant she was at his side.
They arrived at his office. Christopher shook himself mentally. Time for business. At the end of the tunnel, the ambitious routine where money ruled was what kept him going. His sole reason for living. He waved at Ariana and went to the rear. Samantha’s shoes clicked behind him like a steady heartbeat.
“Andy, do you have the papers?”
He stopped short. The elf looked up from his phone, his eyes wide. Christopher strode to him, plucked the gadget from his hands and slammed it against the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the suddenly silent room and tiny pieces of plastic flew in all directions.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Samantha spoke up. “You can’t do that to a person.”
Christopher spun around. Spots danced in his vision and he struggled to gulp in air. Samantha must have seen something in his gaze because she took a step back.
“Go my office,” he told her. “And you.” He pressed his palms against the tabletop and leaned over Andy. “You called me about an urgent meeting and instead of working I find you on your phone. Again.”
“But—”
“I warned you.”
Visibly trembling, Andy got to his feet. Somehow, the elf seemed to have found his courage. He met his gaze head on, even though the blue in his pupils had become watery. A pang of regret hit Christopher in the gut. He sucked in a breath. The present mingled with the past, becoming a dull ache in his chest. A paintbrush—or was it a pen?—rolled across the desk.
Why are you like this? Another voice. Another moment. A chilly whisper in his ear.
“Christopher—”
Samantha’s angry tone shot through him like a slap of a warm breeze in a frozen tundra.
“In my office, Samantha,” he snapped. “As for you, Andy.” He sighed heavily. “Get back to work. We’ll speak after the meeting.”
Christopher strode to his office, herding Samantha inside and closing the door behind them. She glowered at him, her arms crossed at her chest.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Andy reminds you of Lawrence, doesn’t he? Is that why you hate him, because of his blond hair and blue eyes? That was years ago. You can’t hang onto the anger forever.”
He stiffened. Lawrence. Yes, Andy was the spitting image of the man he’d once thought he loved. Physically, and in his creative streak. Or at least, that was what it had always felt like.
“Christopher, answer me. Why—?”
He didn’t hear the rest of the question. It was always the same. Why are you like this? Why aren’t you different? And the answer couldn’t be more obvious.
He was on Samantha in two strides, forcing her to back up against the desk. Her fear hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of her blood as it flowed to her extremities. Hunger clawed at him painfully.
Christopher bared his fangs. Samantha’s hand shot out to push him away, but the warm contact of her palm against him fueled his longing to an unbearable pitch.
“Isn’t it evident?” he growled. “I’m a beast, Samantha.”
She shook her head. “No.”
Christopher pressed against her, relishing the weight of her fingertips and the way her nails dug into him.
“No? Then why are you trembling, doll?”
He moved her hair aside, bringing her neck to his view. Her vein pulsed frantically, calling to him to dig in.
“Christopher—”
His gaze shot to her face and what he saw undid him. Christopher slammed his lips down on her. Fireworks exploded, sending sparks across every part of him and coming to rest on his rapidly thickening cock. Samantha moaned into his mouth, tugging on his bottom bow and ratcheting his arousal.
“You’re going to burn,” he choked, cupping her ass and lifting her to the edge of the table.
Samantha grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him toward her. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Good. I’ve gotten tired of the cold.”
She licked the seam of his lips. Christopher groaned. Fisting her hair, he angled her head and devoured her. The smell of her arousal hung heavy in the air. Christopher thrust against the layers of clothes separating them. Samantha whimpered.
He snaked a hand between them. Finding the elastic of her panties, he shoved them aside and slid two digits into her, finding her wet.
“You like playing with fire.”
Her body bowed in response. Christopher pumped his fingers in and out. Samantha threw her head back, biting her lip in an attempt to quiet her sexy mewls.
“Tell me you want me,” he demanded. “Look me in the eye and tell me, Samantha.”
Running her hands down his arms, she gave him a gaze glazed with lust.
“I don’t want you,” she said.
The ache in his chest returned, stealing his breath.
“I need you,” she declared.
The pang scattered, leaving behind a dull throb which energized him.
“You’ve made a grave mistake,” he said.
Pulling her hair, he twisted her head to the side and scraped his fangs over her flesh while thrumming her clit. Goosebumps dotted Samantha’s skin. She rocked her hips, an encouraging yes bursting from her. Her pussy clenched around his digits and he sped up.
“Chris—”
They froze at the knock on the door. Gasping, Samantha scurried from his grasp. Cheeks burning crimson and lips bee-stung from their kisses, she hurried to adjust her clothing. Christopher swore. The knock came again, more persistent.
“Come in,” he shouted.
Andy peeked his head inside. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze on the floor.
“Santa’s on the phone. I’ve been calling, but the line is busy and your cell is off. It’s urgent,” the elf said.
Christopher g
lanced at the phone. The mouthpiece was misplaced and he recalled his phone had run out of battery on their way here.
“Give me a minute and put me through to Santa.”
Andy nodded and shut the door behind him.
“I better go,” Samantha said.
Christopher grasped her wrist and pulled her into his embrace. He cupped her chin and tilted her head back. Their gazes locked.
“There are many things I can’t give you, doll, but pleasure isn’t one of them. I’ll return and when I do, you’ll be screaming out my name in ecstasy.”
The phone rang.
Chapter Thirteen
Christopher hit the elevator button with his elbow. He shifted the load of papers he carried. How many hours had he been entrenched in Santa’s boardroom? There was always a last-minute meeting to go to at this time of year, but he’d never had such a difficult time concentrating. He’d sat throughout the whole thing, Samantha’s scent permanently ingrained in his brain. His cock had softened, but the pull and the desire to be in her didn’t lessen in.
Worse still, was the pain in his chest. The damn thing didn’t vanish as it usually did. Instead, every few minutes it’d pulse through him like a swarm of bats fluttering their wings.
The elevator chimed and he walked into his floor. A dim glow came from the emergency exit lights, everyone having gone home hours earlier. Christopher moved on, the dark as familiar to him as his own hands. Clocks ticked loudly, mingling with his muffled steps against the carpet and the shallow sound of his breathing. The shadows lingering in the corners comforted him. He was not alone. He belonged among those blacks and grays. He was one of them, a soul which fed on the essence of the living, desperately seeking to be one of them and yet, never capable of finding the light to return.
As he walked past Andy’s desk, guilt assailed him. Christopher cringed, recalling the incident. What had he done? He’d gone mad. In the last few hours, he’d lost all semblance of normality. His world had careened out of control. Feelings and emotions battled within him, desperate to find an outlet. Centuries of anger had exploded when he’d seen Andy playing on his phone. Christopher pressed his lips together. Not playing. He knew the elf had been working on something else, another one of his technological projects, apps he called them. In a way, just like Lawrence, always doing something new, different, finding beauty in things which for him possessed none. Like Samantha. The realization shook him to the core. She saw the magic of this place where he saw nothing but the ordinary.
Christopher’s shoulder slumped. Tomorrow, he vowed he’d find Andy a new device and apologize. It was the least he could do.
He approached his door and stopped. Samantha’s scent hung in the air. Christopher cocked his head. Even breathing. A steady beat. A human heartbeat.
He shut his eyes against the onslaught of emotions and the pang in his chest. Samantha.
For half a millennia, he’d pushed his emotions into a bottle, then she’d come and with one smile started to tip the contents. One by one, they’d rolled down the glass container, forming a puddle at his feet. Hunger. Lust. Sadness. Nostalgia. Joy. Surprise. Anger.
Those were just a few. With every minute he spent with Samantha, something else joined the muddy waters. Christopher clenched his jaw. Yet, she tilted the container further.
He should hate her for it, as he did Andy, but instead, something he’d thought buried thousands of feet underground and would never see the light of day again crept steadily upward.
Love.
It wasn’t possible. She hadn’t dug that deep. Had she?
Christopher entered his office. Samantha didn’t budge. She sat at his desk, her head cradled on her arms as she slept. The discomfort in his chest grew, momentarily making his vision swim.
Thump. Thump.
“It’s true, Christopher. See for yourself. I live again. Listen to my heart.”
No.
Christopher shook his head. He had nothing to offer Samantha except resentment and a curse which was his alone to bear. He’d chosen eternity and despair. She chose joy and love. They weren’t compatible. He couldn’t condemn her.
He set the papers on the desktop and swallowed. He shuddered, suddenly cold. Maybe the time had come for him to disappear. He’d stayed here long enough. Santa’s magical wonderland no longer brought him any happiness. Christopher smirked. The old man had known all along. Samantha had come to replace him. She’d do a good job too. She’d treat everyone fairly and this lugubrious tomb he’d created would once more brim with life. Everyone here deserved it.
Christopher swept Samantha’s hair away from her face. Her eyelids fluttered. She grasped his hand and held it to her.
“I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” she mumbled.
“Hush, doll. It’s all right. I left you in charge, but I didn’t mean working the amount of hours I usually do.”
She rubbed her cheek against his palm. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Christopher sucked in a breath.
Thump. Thump.
The beat in his chest frightened him.
“You don’t mean that.”
She sat up, without releasing him. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she murmured. She looked at him, her green eyes bright under the lamp.
Christopher retreated. “Samantha, I think we’ve made a mistake,” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
She stood and went around the desk. Christopher held up a hand. She laced her fingers with his, snaked her other arm around his nape, and brought him down for a kiss. He tried to pull away, but she was relentless.
The last one, he promised himself. For the sake of the memory.
Her tongue swept inside his mouth, tangling, sucking, curling over his with an abandon he hardly recognized. Her taste filled his senses. Christopher groaned. His cock hardened. He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her flush to him. Samantha whimpered and rubbed against him.
Spots danced in his vision. Her blood pumped wildly, sending jolts of electricity through his digits and across his limbs. His fangs ached. The scent of her arousal filled the air, intoxicating him, overruling any common sense.
Christopher picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him. He dropped kisses across her jaw, down her neck. He rested his lips against her pulse. It quivered.
“Do me,” she whispered, carving her fingers into his hair and pulling his head back. Their eyes locked. The pressure on his chest inflamed.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Samantha undid the knot of his tie. Her inquisitive digits undid the buttons of his shirt. Her palm grazed his flesh and a low growl erupted from him.
“You don’t need to ask me twice, doll.”
Chapter Fourteen
Samantha’s heart pounded. Christopher’s lips trailed a path down her neck, alternating between kissing, nipping, and sucking. Her sex clenched with desperate need.
In quick strides, he moved them to the couch. He settled her over his lap, so she straddled him. Cupping her face, he kissed her again, while shoving a hand up her shirt and palming her breast. She bucked against Christopher, searching for the friction which would take her over the edge.
“More,” she demanded, tugging at his bottom lip.
The pearl-like buttons of her blouse ricocheted against the floor. Her hard nipples puckered further. Christopher tugged down her bra cup, exposing it to his sight. Lowering his mouth, he sucked in the turgid nub. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there. Christopher plucked her other nipple. Samantha jerked. Pleasure sizzled through her veins, centering on her swollen clit.
“More.”
She tore at Christopher’s shirt, desperate for the feel of his skin against hers. He shrugged out of it. Her breath caught. His upper body glistened with sinewy muscles.
“God, you’re built.”
His low chuckle startled her. “You’ve seen nothing yet, doll.”
Undoing her bra, he discarded the garment to one side and nu
zzled her breasts. Holding them, he kneaded the flesh, heightening her arousal.
“I can feel your heartbeat,” he rumbled. “And I can almost taste your blood. It’s racing through you. Here.”
He grazed one of her nipples with his teeth. Samantha cried out.
“Coursing in your veins.” Christopher skimmed her stomach. “To your cunt.”
He snuck his hand beneath her skirt, cupping her drenched pussy.
“Can you imagine if I bit you here, doll?” He painted lazy circles across her labia.
Samantha moaned.
“It’d be a feast.” His lips twisted into a devious grin. “Maybe we should try,” he said.
Suddenly, she was on her feet. Christopher lowered the zipper of her skirt and it dropped to the floor. Her underwear followed. Emotions she couldn’t process flowed through her. She shut her eyes, trying to control her wild breathing. Even through her closed lids, she could sense Christopher’s gaze on her. It licked her skin, leaving a trail of liquid desire which dripped down the inside of her thighs.
“I could watch you all day, feast on your beauty alone.”
He squeezed her ass and she stumbled forward into his arms. Christopher nuzzled her lower belly.
“Except, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”
Samantha shuddered. Christopher parted her thighs. His long, sensual fingers trailed down her leg, leaving a string of goosebumps in its wake. He lifted the limb to the couch, exposing her swollen pussy to his gaze.
“Precious.”
Firmly holding her with a hand at her back, Christopher dipped his head and ran his tongue over her swollen labia. Samantha tilted her pelvis forward in a silent plea for more. Christopher curled his tongue over her clit and sucked. She gasped loudly. His fangs rasped the sensitive tissue and she lost her footing. Christopher steadied her and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“Hold on to me, doll. You’re about to go for a ride you’ll never forget.”
He lapped at her juices and teased her clit with a series of rapid strokes.
The Beauty of Forever Page 7