Bound by Her Blood

by Mara Leigh

  My horrid stepfather ejaculated inside me many times. I knew it from the sticky evidence after, but this… It must be my vampiric senses heightened by arousal, because I feel the power of each eruption, feel the heat and force of his thick fluid spraying inside me.

  He slows, still moving, but now at a more human-like pace, and then he withdraws, turning me and pulling me tightly into his arms. “Holy fuck, princess.”

  “Exactly what I was about to say.” I kiss his chest, licking his skin, as he cups my ass with his hands, caressing me gently, rubbing our hot bodies together as we both come down from the high.

  “Is sex always like that?” I ask when I’m capable.

  “No.” His fingers trail up and down my back. “No, princess. That was special. Very fucking special.”

  He lifts his head, looking over mine.

  He pushes back from me.

  “What is it?” I ask, startled.

  He gestures behind me with his eyes, then drops his head forward, shaking it from side to side as if he suddenly regrets everything we’ve done.

  I turn around.

  My stomach contracts. Shame and regret replace every ounce of my satiated pleasure.

  “Rock.” I take a step toward him.

  Chapter 19

  Selina

  I stand frozen.

  Rock remains in the corner of the room, quiet, not moving, and I realize with horror that he isn’t standing right at the door. He didn’t just walk in. How much did he see?

  Something brushes my shoulder and I look down to see that Gray has draped my T-shirt over my body. He presses a kiss against the top of my head, and then I scramble to dress as he strides, already fully clothed, toward Rock.

  Which one of them will win in a fight? Which one will die?

  But instead of attacking, they talk, then shake hands. I try to hear what they’re saying, but my blood’s too loud in my ears. I pull up my leggings, my legs shaking, my sex throbbing and my mouth unbearably dry.

  What time is it? I feel the need to feed, after all.

  Does sex fuel vampire hunger? No way can I ask Gray the question. Not right now. Not in front of Rock. I could call Astrid. But then I’ll have to admit to her what I did. That I cheated on Rock.

  Rock claps Gray on the back, and then the vampire leaves the room, leaving me alone with Rock and confused.

  What the hell could they have said to each other?

  Legs like jelly, I walk slowly forward and we meet in the middle of the room. I stare at the floor, shaking, unable to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Rock. It just… It just happened. I’m so sorry.”

  Using his bent index finger, he lifts my chin, and I reluctantly look into his eyes. Rock doesn’t look angry or even sad. He looks calm and happy.

  And that hurts.

  He doesn’t seem to care that he just found me having sex with someone else. When he said he didn’t love me, he meant it. He doesn’t care—not at all.

  “It’s okay, Selina,” he says softly. “It makes me happy that you’ve found someone to satisfy…that you and Grayson… It’s okay.”

  I step back, shaking my head. “No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay with me and it kills me to hear you say that it’s okay with you.”

  He tips his head to the side, a question in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Did Grayson hurt you? Force you? It did seem very…very rigorous.”

  My chest nearly caves with shame, but it quickly turns to wounded anger. “How can you be so calm about this? So cold? So unfeeling?”

  He looks at me intently. “Believe me, although I am calm, I am far from ‘cold’ or ‘unfeeling’ on this subject. Your happiness is very important to me.”

  “So.” I shake my head. “Are you saying it’s okay if I go around fucking every man that I see? In front of you?”

  He frowns. “Not every man, no. But whether he admits it or not, Grayson cares for you, Acushla.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  His head snaps back like I punched him.

  “Do not call me that, again,” I repeat. “Not if you don’t mean it.”

  “I do mean it.” He pulls me into his arms, enveloping my body completely.

  I warm against him, his arms like a comforting blanket around me. But his holding me isn’t enough. It will never be enough.

  “Rock, you don’t understand.” I push back on his chest so I can see into his eyes. “I’m falling in love with you.” I look down. “I might have already fallen, and I don’t mind saying it, even though you don’t love me back.”

  “But I do.” He holds my face in his hands, forcing my gaze up to his. “I love you, pulse of my heart. I love you with the power of a raging river. I love you like no other before you. I love you heart of my heart.”

  Blood pounds so loud in my ears I’m not sure that I heard him or if I dreamed it; I’m not sure that the words weren’t carried to my ears through the wishes of my pounding blood.

  His bloodstream’s loud, too, his two hearts pumping with unfathomable force. Did I really hear what he said?

  “I betrayed you, Rock. I made love to another man, and it breaks my heart that you don’t even care.”

  He presses a kiss against my forehead, a kiss so hard and long I feel it might brand me. “I love you,” he says. “And I’ll love you forever. I will worship you, and if you’ll let me I will protect you and defend you against any threat or foe.”

  “Rock.” My voice comes out in a whisper, a shadow of itself.

  And then he takes my face in his hands and kisses me, and soon our lips are devouring each other’s with so much passion I feel like I’m floating. And then I realize I am floating, or at least my feet are no longer on the floor, my body’s held aloft effortlessly by Rock, my big strong giant who loves me, loves me as I love him, but…

  I break the kiss. “What you saw. Gray and me. It didn’t make you jealous?”

  Rock shakes his head. “It made me happy. Happy for you, that you’ve found someone who can fulfill that need for you. Malcolm trusts Grayson, and from what I’ve seen this week he’s a good man. I like him.” He says this earnestly, not a hint of deceit in his voice, but his eyes still seem a little sad.

  I struggle with my feelings. One part of me wants Rock to love me so much that he’d crush any rival, but the thought of his hurting Gray or asking me never to see him again makes me ill.

  I realize in that moment that losing Gray would break my heart, too. My insides are still pulsing with the memory of his cock inside me. And I want him inside me again. I need Gray. I can’t sort out my emotions, but I know that my body longs for more Gray. And it’s not just my body; he’s touched my heart, too.

  Can I love more than one man? Or can I love one man and have sex with another?

  Red lights flash in the four corners of the room.

  Rock’s body stiffens. His body is always hard, just like his name suggests—even when he’s sleeping—but when he tenses like this… I run my hand down the hard ridge at the side of his neck.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Police,” he says. “Upstairs in the bar. Come. Let’s get you safely downstairs.”

  Selina

  I pace inside Rock’s apartment, terrified about what could be happening upstairs. If the police arrived before Gray left the building, or if they caught him on the way out… Is Gray already dead?

  I bend forward, the mere idea like a stake to my own heart. My chest heaves as I fight off the unbearable pain.

  The highs and lows of this day have been exhausting, what I imagine a roller coaster must feel like—something else I never got to try before turning and now never will unless someplace runs them at night.

  As I circle the room for the umpteenth time, one of the paintings distracts me from my fear. Bold slashes of color crisscross the canvas in lavender, pale green, soft gray, and then feathery, finer strokes swirl over top, and… I step closer. There’s another layer in between, one that looks like a veil, like it’s for
cing the viewer to see portions of the bold strokes through a soft-focused lens.

  And as I stare at the image, it’s like some of the shapes start to move, the top layer of swirls and strokes slide over the filmy layer, dancing and skipping, hiding and revealing the bold swaths of color underneath.

  I blink and the image stills, but every moment I look at this painting I see something different, the fine strokes of paint on top now seem sensual, like they’re luxuriating in the touch of the thin veil underneath. And the bold strokes exude so much force and power.

  When I was homeless and human, I’d go to the big art gallery on the nights it was free, and I often visited commercial galleries, even when the snotty, well-dressed staff working there made it clear I wasn’t welcome.

  And at the library, I’ve seen images of some of the most famous paintings hung in museums around the world. While I know paintings are often very different in real life versus a computer screen or book, I’ve seen more works of art than most people my age, and I’ve never seen anything like this.

  A feeling of peace washes over me. My terror about the police presence upstairs doesn’t disappear, but there’s no sense letting the worry overwhelm me. There’s nothing I can do.

  And there’s nothing I can do to take back what Gray and I did, or that Rock saw us.

  I can’t sort out my feelings for Gray, except to know that there’s something beyond the sexual fire, but looking at this painting, I can convince myself that it’s all going to be okay, that I’m looking for problems where there are none.

  I didn’t sense any animosity between Rock and Gray, and if neither man is bothered, why should I be?

  They shook hands; they man-hugged. And Rock…Rock told me he loved me. His confession is still sinking in and fills me with joy.

  We’re in love. I draw long, luxurious breaths as I let the idea absorb. Why did I let fear overstep my comprehending or responding to the most beautiful words ever?

  Can I really love Rock and make love with Gray? Feed from Gray? Have him feed from me? Gray said I drank from him like I was his mate. What did he mean?

  “You like that one?” Rock asks.

  I turn, shocked that I didn’t hear him come down. I nod, a lump of emotion blocking my throat.

  “Is everything okay upstairs?” I choke out.

  “Yup. All clear. Seems they were just doing a regular check. The cops handed their cards to Kev and Chelle. One to me.” Shaking his head, he grins. “Bad news for you, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulls a card from his pocket, flipping it back and forth between his index and middle finger. “Constable Colton Young. Guess this card makes me his deputy or something.”

  “What?” I laugh as he steps toward me.

  “I’m a spy for the cops. At least, an undercover informant, charged to report any individuals ‘exhibiting suspicious, vampire-like behaviors.’” He makes air quotes as he repeats what I assume are the cop’s words.

  Hand on my butt, Rock pulls me hard against him. “Seen anyone suspicious around here, miss? Any vampire-like behaviors?”

  My body undulates, loving how it feels to have his huge hands on my ass, his thighs against my belly. “No officer. Honest. Haven’t seen any vampires around here.”

  “Are you sure, miss?” Bending me back, he slides his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. “Because I’m not sure what I’m sensing here, but something smells fishy.”

  “Fishy?” I mock punch him, and he starts to laugh, his huge body shaking mine as he returns me to an upright position.

  “Not fishy. Sorry. I hit my role-play limits. Never was much of a performer.” His voice drops with that last line.

  Did Rock want to be an actor at some point? He did mention a circus. There’s so much I have yet to discover about my man and I can’t wait to start finding out.

  “Where did you get this painting?” I ask, turning back toward it. “Who’s the artist?”

  “Artist?” His hand wraps around me from behind and he strokes my ribs. “That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?”

  “So, it’s no one famous, then?” I lean forward to check again for a signature. “I mean, to me this is a museum-level piece, but nothing like I’ve seen before. The artist has a style of their own.”

  “How do you know so much about art?” he asks.

  “It’s what I studied. Well, I don’t have a degree or anything, but I audited some courses, read tons of books and studied on the Internet. I would have given anything to take art history for real. When I was human, I actually landed a job doing graphic design at a small ad agency.”

  “You sound sad when you say that.” He kisses my head.

  “I got the job just before I was turned. I was looking forward to the job more than anything, but I couldn’t take it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of, you know, daylight?”

  “Acushla, you’ve got an eternity to make your dreams come true. So what if that employer insisted you work during the day. You can find someone who’ll let you work from home, or at night.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “But won’t they suspect?”

  “There are plenty of vampire-friendly workplaces. You just have to know where to look. Malcolm and Astrid—not to mention Gray—can help you with that. I’ll bet they even have graphic artists working at FJS.”

  My heart swells, my emotional roller coaster is back on an uptick again, or is it a descent? I’m on whichever is the best part.

  Standing here with Rock, looking at his beautiful painting, I feel utterly safe and content. “I really do love this painting.”

  “That’s because it looks like you.”

  “What?” I turn toward him, then back to the painting.

  “Graceful and strong, delicate and bold, it captures you perfectly.”

  I smile. “And you really don’t know who the artist is?”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Me.” He shrugs. “I painted all of these.” He gestures around the room.

  I gasp, my gaze darting around the room over all of the striking artwork then back to Rock. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  Shaking his head, he rubs his head, leaving a few of the blond curls on top standing up from the crowd.

  “Rock. You’re very talented. These are amazing.” My love grows, expands beyond the limit I already thought was the max.

  His cheeks flush with embarrassed pride, then he turns back to the painting I was staring at.

  “You know,” he says softly, “when I did this one, I think I was painting you.”

  “What do you mean?” I lean my head against his chest. “I remember seeing it the first time I came down to your apartment.”

  “I painted it fifty years ago—fifty-seven years ago, to be exact.”

  “Then, what do you mean?”

  He turns to face me, one hand cupping my head as the other arm rests heavily on my shoulder. “When I painted this, I think I knew, deep inside…I must have known through my loneliness and despair, that someday I would find you.”

  My heart swells. “But I wasn’t even born yet.”

  He shakes his head and presses his hand over his heart. “Not physically, no. But in here.” He taps his chest. “In my heart, I already knew the promise of you, and that promise pulled me through, kept me going when there was so little to make me think life was worth living.”

  “Oh, Rock.” My heart nearly shatters from the combination of love and the desire to sooth all his pain—past and present.

  I trace my hand down the side of his face, loving how his pale whiskers scrape my palm and how his eyelashes flutter as if my touch is the most fabulous thing he’s ever felt. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, Acushla. I love you so much.”

  He bends and his lips capture mine.

  Chapter 20

  Rock

&n
bsp; With Selina in my arms, her lips kissing mine, her hands on my body, it’s easy to believe I could be happy. That I could lead a normal life. That we could love each other, build a life together, but I know it’s not possible.

  Pleasure purrs from inside her as she strokes her tongue along mine, and mine strokes hers right back.

  I pull my hips away from her soft body as my constrained rod hardens at the memory of having my tongue between her legs, drinking her in. If we did that ten times a day it wouldn’t be enough. And while I watched the tall vampire fuck my love, a yearning grew like a painful lump inside me. Pain I can live with, and her obvious pleasure cushioned my pain.

  I would love to be the man who could give her that pleasure, fulfill her primal need, but that’s not possible, and her happiness is more important than anything else.

  I did my best to reassure Grayson, to make sure he knew he was welcome as far as I was concerned, to continue her training and make love to her—if that’s what she wants and needs.

  I hope he believed me. If Gray can satisfy my love’s sexual desires, then she’ll stop pressing me, and it will assuage my guilt.

  Her hand brushes over the front of my jeans.

  Fighting a moan, I sweep her into my arms to hold her aloft. Her arms circle my neck, where they’re less dangerous, and her fingers play with the hairs at the back of my head and thread through the curls on top as we kiss. Her body writhes in my arms, her breasts rubbing against me, her pelvis circling. So fucking sexy.

  “Rock.” She pulls away from my lips, panting. “Make love to me. Please.”

  I shake my head.

  Pain invades her eyes.

  If she weren’t a vampire I’m sure there’d be tears in her eyes right now, and I hate that I’m the cause. I want to make her understand, but if she knew the truth, what I’ve done to so many women, her love for me would vanish.

  No woman could ever love a man who’s hurt so many, especially not a woman who’s been assaulted herself.