I felt eyes on us as Black pushed his way through, tugging me after him gently, his fingers still wrapped cautiously around my wrist.
He didn’t look at me.
He led me just as carefully through the room on the other side.
The space was dim, but he didn’t turn on any lights. The only illumination came from glass cube tables scattered around the carpet, all of different colors: green, midnight blue, gold, sky blue, silver. They clustered around a massive, U-shaped leather sectional couch that stood below an equally large television. A pool table lived on the other side of the room, along with a wet bar and a high chrome table surrounded by stools.
Black walked us through like he knew the layout already, which I didn’t really want to think about, given Rory’s crack about hookers. He took me down a hallway, past expensive-looking modern art hanging on the walls, then down another corridor.
After passing a number of doors, he found the one he wanted.
He opened it, again tugging me gently inside. Once we were both over the threshold, he released my wrist and turned, shutting the door behind us and locking it.
I barely had time to look around, to note the fireplace embedded in a pillar in the center of the room, the couches on either side, the shelves full of books––when Black turned towards me.
He’d been so careful with me up until that point, I was startled when he wrapped an arm roughly around my waist, yanking me up against him. Pressing the length of his body against me, he ground his crotch unambiguously into mine, making me gasp, pain flooding my light. He gripped my ass in his hand, sinking his teeth into my shoulder.
I let out a startled groan.
Before I could recover, he kissed my mouth, hard.
Hard enough to take my breath, to stop my heart in my chest.
His kiss confused me, turned me on, knocked me off balance. Halfway through it, I found myself clutching at him, maybe just to stay on my feet. When I opened my light, he let out a heavy groan, shocking me again. His free hand wrapped into my hair, clenching there, right before he kissed me harder, twisting his fingers in my hair.
I felt his desire turn violent. Pain slanted out my vision, right before he bit me again.
Control your light... His thoughts were a murmur inside my mind. Control your light, Miri... gaos, please, control your fucking light…
That only confused me more.
That desire in his light twisted, once more sliding out of his control. Images flashed in his mind. In them, he had me bound under him. He was fucking me, hard, extended, digging his fingers into my shoulder and ass from behind. I felt him wanting to hit me and let out a strangled cry against his mouth. His skin flashed with heat, his tongue turning to liquid fire.
His pain worsened before I could make sense of that, either.
He let go of me long enough to take off the tuxedo jacket, flipping it off his shoulders and tossing it over the back of the couch. He stared at me as he loosened and unknotted his tie.
Something in that stare worsened the pain, closing my throat.
I looked down at what I wore, the pale violet dress with the v-neckline I’d thought he’d like, that he’d done nothing but insult all night and stare at like he thought I’d worn it to fuck with him. I didn’t try to take it off, mostly because my mind still lagged far behind his, not just with clothes but with what we were even doing.
Some part of me was still trying to decide if I should be trying to talk to him.
He didn’t wait for me.
In two strides, he was back at my side. He ripped off the tie, tossing that on the couch, too. His shirt was only halfway unfastened when he caught hold of me again.
We were on the floor before I could catch my breath, and he pushed the dress up to my waist, yanking me down under him by my hips and spreading my legs. His fingers dug into the garter strap at my thigh, unhooking it roughly and ripping the nylon halfway down my leg. I let out a gasp when his hands yanked the top of my dress down next, wrenching it off my shoulders to expose my breasts. Then he was hanging over me, unfastening his pants while I massaged his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice a low gasp. “I’m sorry, Miri...”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
I’d forgotten about wanting to talk to him. I’d forgotten the blond woman by then, too.
If I felt anything in that moment, I think it was relief.
His fingers moved aside the lace underwear I wore––also for him, although I hadn’t fully admitted that to myself, either. Then his fingers were inside me and he lowered his head. Pain came off him in a dense cloud.
For a long moment, he stroked me with his fingers, groaning.
“Gaos... you’re wet...” He closed his eyes, panting. “Tell me you want me,” he growled. “Tell me, Miriam… say it out loud, or I won’t let you come…”
Pain closed my throat, hardening in my chest, even as something like anger surged in me again. Tears came to my eyes.
“I want you,” I said. I hit him in the chest and he flinched, catching hold of my wrist. My throat closed as his pain worsened, right before he let out another groan. When he leaned his weight onto me, I fought not to hit him again. “You’re a son of a bitch.” I choked on the words, biting my tongue as I clenched my hands. “You’re a son of a bitch, Black...”
“I know.” His pain worsened. He forced my legs wider with his knees, fucking me harder with his fingers. “I know. I’m sorry…”
My anger worsened. I wasn’t even sure if we were talking about the same thing. Before I could speak, he kissed me, pinning me under him as he used his lips and tongue to open my mouth. I felt him fighting to hold back his light, and I hit him again, harder.
I felt that turn him on, too.
He slid down my body while I was still fighting to get closer to him. He had his mouth on me before I knew what he was doing, and my mind lost cohesion again.
I lay there for what felt like a long time, staring up at the dark ceiling, panting. Shifting position so that he had one arm over my belly, he pinned me to the floor, using his fingers and tongue until I was sweating, writhing under him.
He was still closed.
Something about that frustrated me beyond reason, making me want to hurt him again.
Go ahead... he sent, pain pluming off him in a hotter cloud. Hurt me, Miri. Get it out, doc. I don’t mind... get it out... I don’t mind...
Tears came to my eyes.
I lost my train of thought when he slid his tongue into me deeper.
Anger still swirled around me, irrational. Anger, but not really anger––it was a feeling of powerlessness that was worse than anger. Some part of my mind wanted to make it anger instead. Black took his arm from around me and reached down. He finished unfastening his pants without taking his mouth off me. When he started stroking himself, I felt him holding back his light with all of his concentration, fighting to keep it from me.
I shoved at him that time, with both hands.
“Stop!” I snarled the words. “Stop! Stop it!”
I shoved at him again, hitting him for real that time, and he raised his head, panting, staring at me in the mostly dark room. His gold eyes stood out in a darker face.
Somehow, seeing his face brought the tears back.
“Get off me!” I snapped. “Get off me, damn it!”
He removed his fingers and my pain worsened without warning. Unable to stop it, I let out a low moan. For a moment I could only lay there, my heart jackknifing in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Realizing I’d hit him––in anger, again––shame twisted my pain into something colder.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, still not looking at him. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Black. I can’t do this. I can’t do this like this. I just can’t.”
I felt him staring at my face, his hands stroking my thighs.
“Gaos, Miri...” Pain altered his voice. “Gaos... Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you fucking belong t
o me... that you aren’t going to leave me for this.”
I shook my head, fighting another wave of that irrational anger. I almost didn’t know what he was talking about, or what it had to do with what we’d just been doing. Some part of me felt dodged still, like he was deliberately confusing me.
“I’m not,” he snapped. “Fuck, Miri... I’m not!”
My hands gripped his shoulders under the shirt, clenching on skin and muscle, fighting to control his body and light and failing at both. I felt an irrational impulse to hit him again, maybe in the face that time, but I didn’t. There was something wrong with us. There was something wrong with his light. The thought confused me; it also upset me, to the point where I was nearly in tears. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust him anymore.
I felt fear eclipse my mind, like a dark cloud.
It took another second to realize it was his.
“Miri!” he growled. “Gaos, Miri… I’m not fucking cheating on you!”
Something about him voicing it aloud made the pain exponentially worse. My grief mixed with his fear, the combination making it impossible to breathe. I couldn’t move for a long moment, couldn’t do anything but lie there, willing both feelings away.
“You know why I can’t have sex with you,” he snapped. “You know why!”
That brought my eyes open, focused back on his. Staring at him, I shook my head. Fighting another flush of fury, I shook it harder.
“No!” I snapped. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” I hit at his shoulder with my fist. “You won’t tell me anything! All you do is fucking lie to me!”
He blinked, staring at me in bewilderment. As he did, his expression changed, growing less hard as he studied mine. Pain slid off him in a denser wave. Then he was moving, making his way up my body. I felt his heart open that time, and my breath caught.
“Gaos, Miri... ilya,” he murmured, kissing my face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He kissed me again, wrapping his arms around me, leaning his weight so that I gasped.
For a long-feeling few moments, we just lay there, holding each other.
As our lights wound back into one another for the first time in weeks, my mind slowly cleared. Not just in relation to him––in relation to all of it. It hit me that we were both lying half-naked on the floor of a complete stranger’s apartment. I probably had make-up smeared all over my face. My hair and dress were trashed. I’d just criminally assaulted someone in the other room, in front of probably two dozen witnesses.
Black told them we were married.
Hell, I told them, while I was threatening that woman.
I’d also hit Black with my fist, twice, and shoved him when he tried to jerk off instead of fucking me the way I wanted.
Even in my mind, all of it sounded so insane I couldn’t process it.
I was massaging his back with my hands, mindlessly tugging at his hair, caressing his face and neck as I felt him relax into me more.
Sighing, he lowered his face to mine, kissing my cheek.
“Miri,” he murmured against my neck. “Gaos, ilya. You know this… you understand. You remember what we were like when we first started sleeping together.” Lifting his head, he gazed down at me, eyes glassy. “You remember how I got, Miri. You remember how fucking crazy I was.” He shook his head, his jaw firming. “I can’t do it. I can’t do that right now.”
He met my gaze, clicking softly.
“If I let myself go there while we’ve got those things hunting us, we’re both dead,” he said, blunt. “I need to be clear right now. I need your head clear, too, doc. It’s hard enough right now as it is.” Swallowing he met my gaze. “I can’t do it, Miri. I can’t.”
I stared up at him, trying to make sense of his words.
“What are you saying?” I said, when his expression didn’t change. “You don’t want to have sex until... when? The entire vampire race is wiped out?”
“I need to kill that son of a bitch. Or at least figure out how to stop him.”
“And if you don’t?” I said.
His jaw clenched, hard enough to jut out his cheek.
“We’re still bonding,” he growled, shaking me lightly. “We’re still fucking bonding, Miriam. Stop pretending you don’t understand what that means. You know what we get like.”
I shook my head. “It won’t be like that. Not this time––”
“No,” he cut in with another growl. “It’ll be worse. The more we get to know each other, the worse it’ll get. Gaos. Look at us, doc. Look at us right now. What about this isn’t clear to you?”
Pain expanded off him, so intensely I closed my eyes, gripping him tighter.
“I’m trying to protect you.” He kissed my face and his pain sharpened. “Jesus, Miriam. I know I’m new at this fucking husband thing... but I’m trying to protect you. What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?”
Pain pulsed off him again, and my breath caught.
“What do you think I’m doing, Miri? Really?”
I stared up at him.
It wasn’t a rhetorical question. He wanted an answer.
I considered not giving him one as I turned over the paranoid motives I’d ascribed to what he’d been doing. After a few more seconds, I shook my head, mostly to myself.
“What did I think?” I said, my voice bitter-sounding. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I thought you blamed me... consciously or not... for what happened to you. That, or you just didn’t trust me anymore. I thought you blamed me for not finding you sooner. For letting you get hurt. I thought you were struggling with your feelings towards me, because of that.” My jaw clenched as I met his gaze. “I didn’t know how to help you.”
At his silence, I looked away, shaking my head.
“I should have pushed you to see a professional sooner. I know you don’t want to. I know this is complicated for you. But you need to talk to someone. I know your family never found you when you were a kid. I know you resent them for that. I’ve felt it on you. I know you’re still angry at them, and––”
“What?”
I looked up. Anger emanated off him, so much of it that I froze. He raised himself up on his arms and hands, staring down at me through the dark.
I returned his gaze, feeling my breath stop.
Watching him look at me, I gripping his arms in both of my hands.
“Black, listen. This isn’t an accusation… or a guilt trip. I blame me, too, all right? I think I should have gotten you out sooner.” I shook my head where it rested on the carpet. “You think I don’t know why you’re hammering me so hard on the sight stuff right now, but I do. I get it. I’ll work harder from now on––I promise.” Swallowing, I glanced up. “Please. Just tell me what you need from me, Black.”
He hung over me, staring at my face.
“Miriam.” His voice was openly incredulous. “Jurekil’a gaos... ilya. You begged me not to go to the port that night. I fucking ignored you... I blew you off. You asked if you could come with me and I said no.” Pain coiled off him, making me close my eyes. “Miri. I don’t blame you. You’re not my parents, Miri! Jesus Christ!”
When I shook my head, fighting for words, he caught hold of my hair and shoulder, forcing me to look at him.
“Miri,” he growled. “You’re nothing like them. Nothing! Do you hear me? This wasn’t your fault! None of it!”
I stared at him, breathing harder from the intensity coming off his light. Anger shone in his eyes, vibrating off his hands, but it didn’t feel aimed at me.
“Do you know why my parents never found me, Miriam?” he said. “I never told you, did I?”
Feeling that pain in my chest worsen, I shook my head.
“No one kidnapped me, Miri,” he growled. “I wasn’t taken. I was sold.”
I felt something in my stomach drop. As it did, that pain turned blinding, hard to breathe through. I couldn’t tear my eyes off his face.
“I had a sister,” he growled. “
Maryn. She was ten years older than me. The traders came, and they told my parents they had to take one child, for ‘regulatory’ reasons. They said seers were only supposed to have one... they offered to take one of us off their hands at a ‘fair price,’ to keep my father and mother out of prison. My parents could have given them either of us... or they could have run. They could have taken us to Seertown, asked for sanctuary. Maryn and I could have lived there, where we had cousins.”
His jaw hardened as he watched my face.
“Seertown was flooded with refugees already, though... most of them homeless. My father had a good business going, trading with humans. They had a nice house.” His voice grew cold. “They discussed it, Miri. Right in front of us. Want to know why they chose me, and not Maryn?”
I swallowed.
I didn’t want to know, but I nodded anyway.
Black’s voice twisted into a harder anger.
“My mother’s words: ‘He’ll be handsome... he has the kind of features rich humans will like.’ That’s why my mother decided it was okay to sell me, Miri. Because she knew humans would want to fuck me. She and my father said I’d be ‘treated better’ as a slave.”
Staring down at me, his gold eyes sparked with a colder fury.
“I didn’t stay a slave because they couldn’t find me, Miriam. They never fucking looked. In that world, female children were worth more. They conveyed more status. So they kept their cushy life outside the seer enclave. They kept their higher-status daughter and they sold me for a ‘fair market price,’ telling themselves it was because I’d ‘do better’ as a slave.”
Pain made it hard to breathe as I looked up at him.
It wasn’t sex-pain that time.
It was the kind that burned in my chest, that made me nauseous.
I remembered what he’d told me, about seers and their photographic memories. He would have remembered that exchange between his parents and the traders. He would remember it, word for word, his whole life. He would have remembered it back then, as a child.
He would remember every single thing his parents said about him.
“Don’t ever fucking compare yourself to my parents again.” He stared down at me, breathing harder. “Do you hear me, Miriam? I never even want to think of you and them in the same goddamned breath ever again.” His voice grew colder. “They stopped being my family the day they sold me. I’d hoped maybe Maryn would come find me when she got older...”
Black Of Mood (Quentin Black: Shadow Wars #2): Quentin Black World Page 17