by Lexi C. Foss
“Keep commanding me, love. See what happens.”
She lightly nibbled his lower lip. “A dare I accept.”
His midnight gaze gleamed with wicked intent. “Please do.”
12
Issac
Astasiya appeared angelic in the rising sun, her blonde hair splayed around her, the sheets revealing glimpses of her bare skin. It almost hurt to leave her naked and alone, but he wouldn’t be far.
He closed the door softly and crept downstairs to find Jacque waiting for him in a pair of pajama bottoms, his dark hair wild with sleep.
“The only reason I’m not going to punch you right now is because I already opened my gift and I liked it.”
Issac grinned. “I thought you might approve of that.” He’d bought him a pair of high-tech headphones for his music obsession.
“Yep.” He gestured to the pile of wrapped gifts beside him. “I grabbed all the items you requested.”
“Brilliant. Cheers.” Issac had purchased several items for his family before leaving on holiday with Astasiya but hadn’t brought any of the items with them, as he hadn’t expected the Montana ambush.
He sorted through all the items on the floor, finding the most important ones and setting them aside. Then he carefully arranged everything beneath the tree. His gifts for Aya were upstairs as they all required private explanations.
Jacque had fallen asleep on the couch, one arm hanging off the end, his leg kicked out at a weird angle.
Issac chuckled at the sight, not used to seeing the hyper teleporter rest. But he clearly crashed hard. He draped a blanket over the lanky male and wandered into the kitchen to play with the coffee maker. Aya liked hers black with a few teaspoons of brown sugar, while he preferred his with no additives.
He fixed their cups, snagged a large muffin, and carefully carried all the items upstairs.
Astasiya was sitting up in the bed, waiting for him, the sheets around her waist. Her eyes lit up at the items in his hands. “I knew I loved you.”
He chuckled and handed her a mug. “Merry Christmas, love.”
Her responding smile warmed his heart. “Merry Christmas,” she murmured before blowing across the steaming liquid.
Issac set the muffin on the nightstand and joined her on the bed with his own coffee.
They drank in companionable silence, something he adored about their relationship. Astasiya didn’t require constant conversation or attention, she just enjoyed being in the moment. Like now with the way she admired the snow falling outside the windows, her lips curling into a secret grin. What he wouldn’t give to be able to see inside her mind, just for a moment, to know what caused that look. A memory? A dream? Him?
He pictured her from the other day, the way she’d played with him and the others while throwing snowballs. Such a carefree passing of time, one he never would have indulged in without her.
She’d reawakened his youth, his will to live again.
Issac’s world had grown mundane over the last century. Then revenge had consumed him these last few years, fueling his purpose.
Until her.
Astasiya changed everything.
Changed him.
He tucked a stray blonde strand of her hair behind her ear, his gaze tracing the movement. “Can we exchange our gifts here instead of downstairs?” he wondered, craving this moment between them and longing to extend it. Soon the house would be overwhelmed with noise and excitement, and he wanted to stay here just a little longer. With her. With his Aya.
She smiled over the rim of her mug with her eyes. “I like that idea.” She took another fortifying sip before setting the coffee aside and climbing out of the bed. “You can open your presents first.”
Issac admired her athletic form as she wandered through the room to the walk-in closet and disappeared. He finished his drink and placed it beside the untouched muffin as she returned with a gift in each hand. Neither of them compared to the confidence she exuded while walking around in the nude, or the beauty of her long, shapely legs, or the subtle curve of her waist.
Fuck exchanging gifts.
He wanted to nibble every inch of her.
Memorize the taste of her skin.
Kiss her until she couldn’t remember her own name.
And fuck her so hard she thought of him all day, every time she moved.
Astasiya set the presents on the foot of the bed before crawling up to join him, her breasts swaying with the movement. He wrapped his palm around the back of her neck and pulled her up against him.
“Gifts,” she reminded against his mouth as he rolled her to her back beneath him.
“I’m unwrapping the one I want first,” he replied, his palm sliding down her side to the top of her bare thigh.
“I’m already naked,” she pointed out.
“Trust me, I’m aware.” He settled his hips between hers, eliciting a low moan in her throat. “Very, very aware.”
She arched against him, her hands on his shoulders, tugging at his shirt. “I think it’s you who needs unwrapping.”
He smiled against her neck and lifted as she pulled the fabric over his head. “Does that make me your present, then?”
She pushed him to his back, her heated gaze admiring his bare chest and abdomen. “Yes. Yes, it does. Which means I can do whatever I want.”
Issac arched a brow. “Is that how this works?”
She nodded, her lips curling.
“I thought I was opening my gifts first?”
“You are.” Her eyes glimmered deviously as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his sternum, her hands pulling his pants down over his thighs. “Consider it opened and soon to be delivered.” Her tongue traced a wet path down his abdomen, leaving no question as to what she had in mind.
“Aya.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, his head falling back onto the pillows. Her mouth was his addiction. Every lick and nip against his skin a reminder of how well she’d come to know him, his tells, his preferences.
Nothing between them was ever gentle, even when they tried.
And Astasiya made no exception now.
She finished removing his pants, her lips right where he desired her most, hovering but not touching. Her smile said it was intentional.
“Do you want your present, Issac?” Her voice vibrated against his shaft, causing him to groan low in his throat.
Aya loved to tease him, to try to take control, to bring him to his knees. And while he adored her mouth and skill, he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body. Not even desire could crumble his strength of will, and he reminded her of that by tightening his hold in her hair and yanking her back to meet his gaze.
“All I’ve ever wanted is you,” he said softly. “You know that.”
“Seducing me with words?”
He smiled. Yes, that was most definitely his goal. “Suck my cock, darling.”
Temptation darkened her eyes to a sultry green. “Such sweet things you say to me,” she murmured, her lips brushing his sensitive skin.
“Now, Aya.” He applied pressure to the back of her head, which only deepened the sensuality in her gaze.
She licked the arousal seeping from his tip and hummed in approval. “Merry Christmas, Issac.” Sin underlined her tone, lighting his blood on fire.
Jesus, he adored this woman.
He tightened his hold as she took him deep, her name falling from his lips with a curse. Issac never wanted a woman more than once, always bored after the first time. But Aya gifted him with new perspective. Every time with her felt new yet experienced, and yielded the most intense pleasure of his life.
“More,” he growled, needing everything she could give him. Sensation, emotion, passion. All of it.
His fist guided her movements while her tongue and mouth mapped every inch of his shaft. He thrust upward, his hips driving him to the back of her throat.
Yes…
She took him, her nails drawing down his thighs, her eyes locking with his. He ne
arly came from the image she represented alone, those lust-dilated pupils driving him to the edge of insanity.
“Fuck, Aya,” he whispered, his muscles tensing as flames destroyed his being.
He swore she was smiling up at him, knowing what that look did to him.
And that only made him harder.
Only had him clutching her hair like a lifeline as he escalated her pace, forcing her to take more of him, needing her to swallow him down to her very core. To be inside her. To be with her. To own her the way she did him. To mark her as his in the darkest of ways. To keep her with him always. To forever remain with her.
His head fell back on a growl, his stomach clenching, his balls tightening. And fuck, she knew, her mouth already hollowing, her tongue stroking him exactly where he desired.
“Aya,” he breathed, his jaw clenching. It almost hurt, that moment right before… and then she carried him over with another trick of her mouth, a hum in the back of her throat that encouraged him to explode.
He held on to her, forcing her to swallow, as he shook with his release. So much more powerful, more intense, than the night before, and yet he had no idea why or how that was even possible. Every experience deepened their connection, destroying any semblance of his ability to let her go. He’d forever be bonded to her. There would be no other. Not even if she commanded it.
Adoration mingled with relief and firm desire to return the favor. Just as soon as he could breathe again.
Astasiya climbed over him, her lips swollen from the way he’d fucked her mouth. She straddled his hips, her damp core against his erection. He wasn’t ready yet, but knowing the way she excited him, he would be again soon.
“You have two more gifts to open,” she said, her voice a low, husky sound that went straight to his groin.
How did she do this to him?
Sometimes he thought her second power might be related to sex because everything she did consumed him. From her smile to the subtle way she clenched her thighs around him, all the way to the innocent excitement highlighting her gaze as she held out the gifts she’d retrieved from the bottom of the bed.
He could deny her nothing.
Ever.
Issac forced himself to sit up, feeling as if he’d just run a marathon despite it being her mouth that had done most of the work. He took the gifts and set them on the bed beside his hips and circled the back of her neck with his palm. “Thank you, Aya.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
He kissed her softly, loving the way her recently fucked lips felt against his. Mine, he thought possessively, tracing her mouth with his tongue.
She grabbed his biceps. “Gifts.”
“Yes, it was quite a gift,” he agreed.
She opened her mouth to say more, and he took advantage, dipping inside to properly taste her. Her responding groan reverberated against every inch of his body. She’d thought to give him an orgasm without reciprocation. Mmm, not on his watch. He might not be able to properly take her, but he could certainly return the favor in other ways.
He pulled her beneath him, away from the gifts, and slid his still-hard cock between her slick folds, massaging the sensitive spot that made her ache and scream. She quivered, her body already so close to the edge from her oral ministrations.
“I love having you like this,” he whispered against her mouth. “Quivering with need. It’s sexy as hell, Aya.”
Her nails bit into his lower back, then his ass, as she encouraged him to give her more. His name left her lips on a moan, the sound being one of his favorites in existence.
He rocked into her harder, forcing his head to hit her clit on each thrust. She cradled him with her thighs, her chest arching into his as he dropped his mouth to her neck. He longed to bite her, to use his teeth to send her over the edge.
If she’s a Seraphim, I might be able to.
A dangerous thought, one that lingered in his mind while he took Astasiya over the edge with a final shift of his hips against hers. She shattered on a spasm he felt down to his very soul, the call to claim her loud in his heart.
One bite.
God, he wanted to.
Needed to.
His resolve shook around him, his incisors aching with the need to mark her. It was not about her blood but about her. As if he would lose her forever if he didn’t lay claim to her now.
Issac’s hands fisted as common sense warred with his innate need for possession.
She’s mine.
Not entirely.
Finish it.
“Issac,” she whispered, her fingers combing through his hair, the other trailing down his taut back. “Are you all right?”
No.
They’d been together several times since her turning, and never once had he felt the need to bite her.
Until right now.
And it consumed him.
Overrode logic.
Tore right through his walls of control, penetrating him deep.
“You’re starting to scare me.” Aya’s touch had stilled. “Issac?”
“I…” He had to clear his throat, his mouth watering with the desire to taste her again. To imbibe her blood the way he used to.
Why now? Why after two months of controlling it am I failing now?
He shook above her, his self-discipline shredding inside of him.
He felt compelled to bite her.
Possessed by some unknown entity that presided over them, dictating his actions.
What is happening to me?
Just one bite.
No, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not with his life in the balance.
And what about her life?
The pull tugged him forward, her pulse singing beneath his mouth. Just—
“Remove your mouth from my neck,” Aya demanded hoarsely, her words laced with power.
Issac lifted, unable to resist the call of her persuasion.
Her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling from what it took to force him away from her in that manner.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the spell broken as he rolled away from her.
He’d nearly bitten her.
Had scraped his teeth over her skin, ready to take her.
“Fuck,” he repeated, his palms digging into his eyes.
This is never going to work.
13
Issac
Astasiya remained utterly still beside him, her hitch in breath breaking his heart. She was crying because of him. Because of this—their relationship. The fact that he’d nearly risked his own life to taste her.
And the guilt she would bear if her blood killed him would destroy her. He knew that. Yet, he’d nearly bitten her anyway.
“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted. “It’s never been like that before.”
She said nothing for so long he worried she might be unable to speak.
“Aya,” he whispered.
“I think… I think I was compelling you.” So soft, he barely heard her. “I d-didn’t mean to. I just… I was thinking about it, how it used to be, and…” She broke off on a choked sound that broke his heart.
“Oh, Aya.” He pulled her into him, her head going to his chest as he circled his arms around her. A part of him acknowledged the danger of that move, especially after what just happened, but his soul begged him to console his other half. Her pain was his pain. That was how this worked.
“I’m sorry, Issac.” She buried her face against his skin, her body trembling against his. “It just happened. I thought about the last time you bit me, and the urge to finalize something, us, our blood, just slammed into me. It doesn’t even make sense. I don’t even know what we would be finishing.”
He combed his fingers through her hair, considering her words. They matched his experience, but he hadn’t sensed her compulsion. Not in the way he usually did when she persuaded him to do something, even mentally.
No, this had felt different.
Not compulsion, but something much more i
nstinctual. As if his very soul had begged him to mark her.
He kissed the top of Astasiya’s head. “It’s not your fault, love. I think we both were caught up in the moment.”
“What are we going to do?” she whispered. “If I have to choose between keeping you alive and our relationship, I’ll always pick your life. Always, Issac.”
“I know, Aya,” he murmured, hugging her harder. “I know.”
They clung to each other as if it might be the last time. Their hearts beating as one. Minutes passed, turning into an hour. No words were needed, just the comfort of their silence.
His family began to wake.
Images of conversation in the kitchen.
Breakfast.
Mingling by the tree in the living area.
So many smiles, not a single person aware of the pain upstairs. Except for Balthazar, who thankfully kept his mouth shut.
“Christmas has officially begun downstairs,” he advised softly.
Aya nodded. “I still want to open our presents up here.”
“Me, too.”
She tilted her head, her green eyes a softer shade, almost jade in color. “Do you want to open your gifts first?”
“I can,” he murmured, stroking his hand down her arm. The artfully wrapped packages were still on the bed, sitting in the same spot Astasiya placed them before he requested a present of a different nature.
She slid away from him to sit up, and he followed suit, his thigh brushing hers. “Here.” She snagged the two items and handed them to him, her cheeks reddening. “I’ve, um, never bought for a boyfriend before.”
He chuckled at the frivolous term. “Boyfriend.”
She gave him a look. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” He grinned at her. “But I prefer demon as a pet name.”
“How about jackass as a nickname?” she asked cheekily. “Since you’re being one right now and all.”
He laughed outright, his heavy heart lighter with her humor. “I’ll answer to whatever you want to call me, love.” He kissed her crimson cheek and started on the first box.