Reawakening

by K. L. Kreig

  Oh. My. Gawd.

  He was the sexiest damn thing she had ever seen.

  “Accompany me to breakfast.”

  Was that a demand or a question? She wasn’t really sure it mattered at the moment because her answer was yes, yes, hell yes.

  “Sure,” she replied nonchalantly. His grin spread even further, knowing she was anything but unaffected by him. Jesus, instead of acting like the grown ass woman she was, she was acting like a crushing schoolgirl who liked a boy, but for some dumb reason didn’t want him to know.

  Never letting her hand go, he silently led her through the shelter back to the main house and into the smaller of the dining rooms. The table in here could still easily hold twenty guests. Dev really did like the finer things in life.

  “Sit.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to take a seat. Surprisingly, he pulled out the chair right next to hers and sat, but not before scooting it closer to hers. He had nineteen other chairs to choose from but chose the one right next to hers instead.

  Suddenly she was very nervous. And kind of pissed off, actually. After seeing him again, she knew she hadn’t dreamt up their mutual attraction, so why hadn’t she heard from him before now? Why didn’t he stop by last night? Why hadn’t he called her before now? Why hadn’t he made even a shred of an attempt to let her know that she wasn’t concocting this insane connection in her own sometimes-crazy head?

  “How did you sleep?” he asked.

  How did she sleep? That was his first question? He hadn’t seen her in a week, ignoring this raging sexual inferno between them, and he wanted to talk about how she’d slept? Why not just ask her what she thought of this ungodly hot summer they’d been having or her thoughts on global warming or hey, what do you think of North Korea’s nuclear warhead threat?

  How did she sleep?

  Nancy: because he was with another ho … I thought I already went over this with you, Sarah.

  She turned in her chair to face him, tucking her right leg beneath her left.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Having breakfast,” he replied flatly. All traces of humor had vanished and the insanely intense Romaric had resurfaced.

  Kate and Analise had warned her against Romaric. Analise thought he was ‘scary as fuck.’ Kate just thought he was lonely. Both agreed he was stoic, calm and calculating. Almost unfeeling, like an emotional lever had simply been flipped off.

  She observed him for a few moments. As much as she wanted to have sex with the sex-god himself—and she really, really did—she suddenly didn’t want to be added to a very long list of women that came before her. And if she stayed here, she’d have to see him occasionally, and wouldn’t that just be awkward. She could just imagine that conversation.

  Hello Sarah, how are you today?

  Great, are you in town long?

  Just tonight, I’m afraid.

  Oh … are you interested in maybe … coming back to my room?

  Thank you for the offer, Sarah. I have someone else lined up this evening.

  Yah … that would so not work for her. She would get insanely jealous and lash out and probably be asked to immediately leave the premises. Can’t have a psycho ex living here, verbally threatening a Vampire Lord.

  “I’m not talking about food. I’m talking about what are you doing with me?”

  “I thought I made that clear.”

  Uh … what?

  “Breakfast?” she asked.

  “No, Sarah. You.”

  He was so serious she almost laughed. Maybe Giselle learned her tail chasing from Romaric, because he was making no fucking sense whatsoever.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I want you, Sarah. I’m not sure how much clearer I need to make it.”

  His intensity suddenly increased twentyfold. His cheekbones became more defined, sharper; his eyes glowed, making them appear almost crystalized; his sinewy body went completely taut and she could see the flex of his muscles underneath the tightness of his stuffy button down shirt.

  “But if you need me to spell it out for you, I will.”

  He pushed his chair back and stood. He was already a good foot taller than her short five foot six frame, but with him looming large over her sitting form, he seemed almost like a daunting mythical warrior that had risen from the ashes. If he suddenly brandished a medieval longsword, it wouldn’t surprise her in the least.

  Gently taking her hand in his, he pulled her to her feet. His piercing stare was so ripe with longing she almost couldn’t catch her breath and the reasons she shouldn’t have sex with him vanished like they’d never existed at all. He walked her backward until her back was flush to the dark blue wall.

  She swallowed hard, not knowing what to expect next, but waiting for it on pins and needles all the same. Romaric’s eyes never left hers as his hands came to the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. His feet came on either side of hers, his thighs pressing against hers, which allowed him to unashamedly push his rock hard erection into her stomach. She was well and truly trapped and so incredibly turned on by his blatant display of ownership over her body that she thought she could possibly climax from this physical contact alone.

  “What I want, Sarah—no, what I crave more than my next breath—is to bury my aching cock deep inside your hot, tight, soaked pussy and fuck you until your throat is raw from screaming my name. I’m going to fuck you until you’ve come so many times you think you can’t come again, but you will because I will demand it. I’m going to fuck you every way I can until you crave me on a subconscious level and can’t live without my cock. Then I’m going to make love to you until you agree to be mine.”

  Fucking. A. Well … let’s get right to that, then.

  “Is that clear enough for you now, my beauty?”

  Yes. Yes, that was as clear as the Caribbean Sea. But his words had robbed her lungs of air and apparently severed the connection between her brain and mouth, so she could only nod her understanding.

  “Good.”

  She expected him to kiss her next. Christ, she wanted him to kiss her next. One would think after a guy verbally fucked you like that, they’d follow it up with a soul-sucking kiss to prove they weren’t all talk.

  But not Romaric.

  He pushed away from the wall, which also pushed him away from her body, and she swore every single nerve ending he’d touched while leaning against her was burning out of control.

  Once again, his stony mask snapped into place. He held out his hand to hers, escorting her back to the table, resuming the same positions they’d had before. She was stunned speechless and pinched herself to wake up from this most bizarre dream, but the sting proved she wasn’t sleeping. She dared a sideways glance at Romaric, who was staring at her with open interest.

  She felt like a science experiment and opened her mouth to demand he stop it, when Hooker entered, rolling an entire cart full of food. He always, always went overboard and she felt bad for all the food that went to waste.

  “That will be all,” Romaric rudely replied when Hooker placed all the items on the table.

  Hooker started to leave when Sarah called, “Thank you, Hooker.”

  His lips turned up and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. He would never say, but she knew he appreciated the kindness. Just because these vampires were lords and all powerful, didn’t mean they needed to be assholes. A nice ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ went a long way as far as she was concerned. Maybe that was the Midwest girl in her.

  After he was gone, Sarah turned to Romaric. “You didn’t need to be so rude, you know.”

  He set his fork down on his plate, which had been halfway to his mouth filled to the brim with scrambled eggs.

  “Rude?” He seemed genuinely confused by her accusation.

  “Yes, rude. He works hard cooking and cleaning and doing whatever else it is that Dev demands of him. It’s not too much to ask to say thank you for all the work he went to making
breakfast.”

  She turned back to her plate, but her appetite had vanished. Both her physical and sexual one. Romaric may be a hottie, but who was she kidding? He was waaay out of her league and she was still very much intimidated by him. He may think he wants her now, but he would quickly tire of her. She would never fit into his world. Into this world. And she’d been naïve to think otherwise.

  They were complete opposites.

  She had manners. He clearly didn’t.

  She wanted happily ever after. He just wanted to fuck her brains out.

  She was sympathetic and empathetic. He was emotionally closed off.

  She had a hair-trigger temper. He was calm, cool and collected.

  He intrigued her on so many levels and what she wouldn’t give to be able to peel away his protective layers one by one. To really get to know the untainted soul she saw hiding underneath his gruff exterior. He put on a very good front for everyone else, but the second she’d looked into his eyes, she knew there was so much more to Romaric Dietrich than he would ever let on to the outside world. She’d seen a deep wound that she’d foolishly wanted to uncover and heal.

  But it would never work between them. She was far better off keeping him in her dreams, where he belonged. Where he’d always been.

  “I’m not hungry after all.”

  Placing her napkin on top of her untouched food, she stood and walked toward the door. She didn’t make it five steps before running smack into a solid, immovable object, which threw her off balance and she began to fall backward. Strong arms reached out and swept her off her feet before she could hit the ground.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Sarah?” Romaric said, holding her tightly in his oh so strong arms. She had no choice but to put her own arms around his neck for support.

  Okay, so she did, but her momma didn’t raise no fool.

  “I’m going back to my room,” she retorted. She didn’t owe him anything, certainly not an explanation. And she’d be damned if she would give him one.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He didn’t think so? What?

  Me Tarzan.

  You Jane.

  If his hands were free, he’d probably be pounding his chest with his melon-sized fists trying to convince her of his male worthiness.

  “Um, I think so, buddy. Let me go.” She now used her arms in a fruitless attempt to push out his iron grip hold.

  “We’ve already been through this. You’re mine, Sarah. You’re not going anywhere.”

  She stopped her futile efforts and gawked at him in disbelief. Wow. He needed a lesson in twenty-first century courting, because he was sorely behind the times.

  “I’m yours?” She couldn’t have kept the biting sarcasm out of her voice if she’d tried. Which she didn’t.

  “Yes.” The very matter-of-fact way he said that word burrowed under her skin.

  She laughed. Really laughed. She couldn’t help it. This entire thing was so unbelievably ridiculous and she couldn’t wait to gossip to Kate and Analise about how downright preposterous her morning had been.

  Me Tarzan, You Jane.

  “You’re mine, you’re not going anywhere.”

  They’d laugh about it for months and months. She’d just keep his impassioned ‘fucking’ speech out of the story, however. That was for her ears alone and God knows she’d be pathetically replaying that twenty times a day.

  Romaric was gawking at her like she’d gone to crazy town and maybe she had. She finally got control of her laughter enough to speak.

  “I’m not a piece of property that you can just claim, Romaric. And I’m not yours. I belong to no one except for myself. Now, kindly put me down. This has been … interesting, but I have a very busy day.”

  She didn’t.

  At her tirade, a devilish grin ate up his entire face and a terrible sense of foreboding wormed its way into the pit of her stomach.

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, my beauty. You are mine and I’ve come to do exactly that. Claim you. For you see, Sarah, you are my Destiny. My Fate. You, my insolent beauty, are my Moira, which makes you One. Hundred. Percent. Mine.”

  Oh.

  My.

  Holy.

  God.

  Chapter 9

  Geoffrey

  He’d been back with Xavier for all of twelve hours and it already felt like twelve fucking thousand. Xavier would never believe the lords—especially Romaric—had captured Geoffrey and let him escape unscathed, so he’d been forced to endure hours of agonizing torture at the hands of the lord before being set free. Which Romaric certainly enjoyed.

  But he was recovering fairly well and would be completely healed by tomorrow at this time. And although it’d repulsed him, he’d had to feed as he’d needed blood to recover, but he’d wanted nothing more than to take the sweet blood of his Moira instead.

  He’d taken a huge risk being captured by Romaric, but it’d been the only way. He’d told Romaric the entire truth … and was surprised that he’d been believed. In hindsight, being captured by Romaric was the only reason he was still breathing. Had one of the other lords captured him, particularly Damian, he’d be dead.

  The rumors about Romaric had been true, and then some. He was powerful, calculating and strategic. He was a formidable opponent, one that Geoffrey didn’t feel Xavier could best. Although he didn’t deserve it, he hoped to make an ally out of Romaric, instead of an enemy. If he could bring the lords what they needed to wipe that sick fuck out of existence, he stood at least a chance to make it back to his Moira alive.

  “And how is my loyal lieutenant recovering?” Xavier mocked, as he strode unannounced into one of the small, bare rooms in the Kentucky compound that Geoffrey now occupied. He had a bed, a chair, a desk and a small closest that housed a few items of clothing and that was it. It was all he’d needed until he could get the fuck out of this hellhole.

  He sat up, as agonizing as it was to bend at the waist. He was not about to be in a vulnerable prone position with the devil incarnate standing over him, waiting to decapitate him any second.

  “Better, my liege.” The knife wounds in his midsection were the worst as several had punctured his lungs. The strips of flesh that Romaric had so enjoyably removed from his back were far better and laying down wasn’t nearly as painful as it was when he’d first arrived.

  “Good. I’d hate to have to replace you.”

  He fucking wouldn’t. Xavier loved nothing better than breaking in new servants, as he’d so intimately learned his first sixty years on the job.

  “So, tell me again how you escaped with your life? Romaric Dietrich isn’t one to make such a grave mistake.”

  This had been the tricky part. Xavier was right. No one escaped the lords with their life intact. They were lords for a reason. If they wanted you dead, you were dead. Especially Romaric.

  “As I said, I had the amulet on me you’d procured from the last witch. It wouldn’t work with Romaric, but he was called away. I overheard his minions say that it was for some sort of strategy meeting with the other lords in their fruitless efforts to end your life, my liege. That gave me the opportunity to use its negating ability on a lesser vampire so I could take his form. I barely escaped with my life.”

  Geoffrey added, “I would never betray you, my liege. I would gladly give my life to protect you and your righteous mission.” Or he’d gladly give it bringing Xavier’s evil sorry ass down to hell along with him.

  Xavier scrutinized him closely. He was very good at detecting subterfuge, but Geoffrey had also mastered that skill many years ago. It was the only way to keep his head.

  “I have an assignment for you tomorrow,” Xavier simply said, turning to leave without another word.

  Whatever the assignment was, he’d follow orders to the letter. He needed to regain Xavier’s confidence and trust and prove that he remained his undyingly loyal servant, even if that had been the furthest thing from the truth for years.

  The only que
stion was, how long would that take and how much longer would he have to live in this hell on earth?

  Chapter 10

  Rom

  They’d been sitting here over fifteen minutes in a silent showdown. After he’d dropped his big bomb, his little firecracker’s cheeky comments suddenly evaporated and she hadn’t said one word since. He’d carried her into the library and deposited her on the well-worn leather couch, taking up residence in the ivory armchair sitting opposite her. Their eyes were locked in some unspoken duel and neither of them would give. He could do this all day.

  But what he wanted to do instead was haul her to his home and spend the next several days, or months, ravaging her. Every word he’d spoken earlier was true. He could think of nothing else other than repeatedly burying his painfully hard cock into her sweet, willing body until she cried uncle and acquiesced to be his. And she was very willing, despite how she was currently behaving.

  This morning when he’d heard her pleasuring herself, he’d almost broke down her door with the burning need to watch. He’d wanted to watch her wet fingers circle her clit, going faster as she neared the peak. He’d wanted to see the ecstasy on her face in the throes of orgasm. He’d wanted to lap up every single drop of her come, which he’d been able to smell through the thin drywall. His cock had throbbed so hard he swore it had its own heartbeat. And with the way she’d eyed him like her favorite treat after she’d open the door, he knew exactly who’d been the cause of such arousal.

  “How do you know I’m your Moira?” she finally asked.

  “It’s undeniable, Sarah.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “You know, this would be a whole lot easier if you’d just answer a goddamned question straight up instead of being so damn obstinate.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “I’m the obstinate one?” He’d wanted to tell her to look in the mirror, but he didn’t think that would serve him well during this particular conversation.