by Scott, K. M.
Leaning against the counter, Saint propped himself up on his elbows and rolled his eyes. “And the girl from last night?”
Solenne secretly enjoyed the thought of him repelled by Marie for any reason. Maybe he didn’t drink from her. That would explain why he was being such an ass. Maybe he didn’t sleep with her either.
“Marie seemed perfectly fine to me,” she said casually as she picked grapes off the vine. “Maybe you just weren’t her type. Maybe she has more refined tastes in men.”
“Yeah, that sounds right. A woman who smells like a French fry has refined tastes. Just find me a woman who smells like a woman should.”
You’ll be lucky if I bring you one at all.
Saint strolled past her after issuing his order as if he were the king of the castle. God, he was infuriating! If she’d ever met a man who could push her buttons more than Saint, she couldn’t remember him. Wouldn’t have wanted to remember him, at any rate.
It still amazed her how different he and his brother were. Teagan was smooth and so much fun to be around. And Saint? Always the darker, more sullen brother, he’d transformed into a shell of the man she’d met a hundred years ago, more detached and alone than anything else now.
But behind his gruff exterior—behind the defensiveness—that vulnerable soul she’d known then must still exist. At least she hoped it did.
It did no good to think about that now, though. She had a job to do, and at the moment that meant finding a human female to provide him with what he needed.
Even if it felt like she was betraying everything she held dear in her heart the whole time she was doing it.
Solenne sat staring at the book in front of her, stuck on the same page for the last ten minutes. She’d read the same sentence five times and still had no idea what it said.
It was no use. The fact that on the other side of the house Saint and his female du jour, a farm girl named Elise, were together doing something that should be shared by vampires made concentrating on some stupid paperback she’s picked up in an airport years ago impossible.
Maybe eating would occupy my mind.
A handful of grapes and a sandwich later and she was no better off than she’d been before. This was torture.
Although she knew she shouldn’t, Solenne let her feet guide her to outside Saint’s room. Standing there in the hallway, like a masochist desperate for more pain, she listened through the door open just a crack but heard nothing. Heart pounding in her chest, she peered in and filled her eyes with the sight she’d imagined and dreaded.
At the foot of the bed, Elise stood naked and silent as Saint moved his hands over her skin, as if one worshipping a piece of priceless art. Solenne watched in rapt attention as his large hands delicately traced the curves of her body, lingering on the spots that brought a woman the most pleasure. Seated on the bed, Saint gazed up at the human with care in his eyes as he captured a pink nipple in his mouth and sucked gently. When he pulled away, the woman’s gentle cries showed her loss.
His hands slid slowly over her stomach to rest on her hips, and he leaned in close to her to press his lips to her skin just above one hipbone. His attention made her arch her back, and in her arousal, she pleaded quietly for him to give her more of what she desperately wanted.
Solenne held her breath, waiting to see more evidence of that man she believed still existed in Saint. The figure so sweetly tending to Elise made her want to believe that vulnerability was still there, buried under years of anger and resentment, but still part of him.
“Elise, I take from you because I must. Take from me.”
The tenderness in his words struck Solenne but was replaced by a sharp pang of jealousy that tugged at her deep inside. This woman—this human woman—would know nothing tomorrow of the pleasures she’d receive, pleasures she didn’t deserve from one of her kind. That Solenne, a proud vampire female, had not only given her to him but now watched as he made love to her made her cringe.
Was this her punishment for her mistake all those years ago?
Saint’s mouth fastened on the female’s neck and one sharp cry escaped from her and then she was silent. Her eyes closed, Solenne was helpless to stop her ears from hearing the sensual sound of his mouth pulling Elise’s blood into him, the gentle lapping sound of his tongue gliding across her skin as the taste of her blood danced on its tip. The deep, low growl of pleasure from him as her blood slid down his throat, each drop feeding his need for that connection to others.
A connection that should be with other vampires, not those who still lived human lives.
Anger mixed with her jealousy, and Solenne’s eyes flew open to see Saint pulling the woman onto his lap. Now he’d fuck her, another act that should have been reserved for those of his own kind. Unable to watch any more of the erotic scene playing out in front of her, she turned away and fled into the night to satisfy her own need for connection.
*
Saint held the woman to him, her soft body to his hard one, as he took the first of two gifts she’d give him. Her blood did what it needed to do—nourish his soul. Each drop that entered him reminded his body of what he truly was.
A vampire who barely clung to the rest of his own kind.
He’d need the blood of his own soon, though. He could go maybe one or two nights longer, but he needed more than human blood could provide. As it was, he felt himself slipping away from his world, a disconnect born of a lack of vampire blood. If he were to be any good to the Sons, he couldn’t let that happen.
If one of his vampires didn’t come soon, he’d have no choice. He’d have to feed from Solenne.
No.
Forcing the idea from his mind, he focused on the willing woman pressed up against him. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her, eager for his cock, and he gave himself over to his need to provide some kind of happiness to another being.
Elise stroked his jaw line, gazing at him with a look of curiosity. “Saint? Why would a man like you be called such a thing?”
“A man like me?”
“I’ve been to church many times, and never once have I seen any saint that looks like you,” she said with a devilish smile.
As she spoke, she caressed his back, trailing her hands to his waist and then around to the front to stroke his stiff cock. “And never have I heard of saints being blessed like this.”
The feel of her skin on his excited him even more, and the urge to show her exactly how un-saintlike he truly was surged inside him. Fisting her hair, he roughly tugged her head back. “I’m no saint.”
Still under his hypnotic control, she whispered, “Show me. Show me you’re no saint.”
He lifted her off him in one swift movement and placed her behind him on the bed. Turning to face her, he saw her legs spread, her glistening cunt dripping for him. He crawled toward her, his baser animal tendencies ruling him now. Grasping her thighs, he ran his hands up her legs to the sensual vee that was his final goal.
The sultry scent of her sex wafted up to his nose as he dipped his head to her pussy. Musky and sexy, she was just like a woman should be. At the first gentle touch of his tongue to her tender nub, Elise moaned her pleasure.
“More.”
Saint flicked his tongue over her clit and slid his middle finger into her slickness. Stroking her tender walls, he slipped a second finger inside her and sucked her swollen clit between his lips.
“More! More!” she moaned as he began to feverishly finger fuck her as he licked her pussy.
This was just the beginning of the more he planned to give her.
Elise writhed under his mouth and fingers as her body raced toward her orgasm. Thrusting her hips off the bed, she ground her pussy into his mouth as she begged him to take her to that point of no return.
The first tendrils of her climax took her over that sweet edge and as she came into his mouth, her cunt milked his fingers while spasms of pure pleasure overwhelmed her. Saint loved the feel of a woman losing control, her delici
ous juices running down his chin as his tongue and lips delivered the release she craved. Such sublime happiness was all he could wish for with any woman.
Elise’s orgasm and the remnants of it on his lips made him crave more. What his mouth had enjoyed his cock wanted now.
He reared up over her and stared down into her half-lidded eyes. “Now you see what a sinner fucks like.”
Kneeling, he pulled her up from the bed and covered her lips with his. His tongue thrust into her mouth, mingling with hers as she rubbed her excited nipples against his chest. Sliding his hands down her back, he squeezed her full ass and pulled her onto his cock. He slid into her to his balls and groaned at how incredible her body felt around him.
“Hold on to my neck and don’t let go.”
Elise obeyed and soon Saint was like a man possessed, driving into her wet channel to find the perfect moment of bliss for both of them.
“Take me. Make me yours,” she begged in his ear as she clung to him. “Make me your sinner.”
Her words echoed in his head, transporting him back to a time so long ago when another begged him to take her too. Back to her.
For a few sweet moments, the woman in his arms in the present was the only woman he’d thought of for a century.
The only woman he’d ever loved.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he pushed the memory from his mind, but flashes remained. The touch of her hand on his cheek. Her soft hair against his lips. The woman who haunted him.
Fuck. What demon possessed him to bring her back to him? What caused him to be such a man?
Saint shook his head to expel the idea of her from his mind, desperate to focus on the willing one in his arms. Whatever she may have been, human women could provide him with everything he needed.
Almost everything.
Fuck. Saint buried his hand in Elise’s hair and tugged with all his strength.
“Harder,” she groaned as she bucked against him. “Yes…harder!”
In and out, up and down, he invaded this human woman, searching for that fleeting moment of bliss. He was close, and God help him, he hoped she was. Just a little more and for a few brief seconds he’d be free of the torture of his existence.
Elise’s climax won the race over his and just as he clamped down on her neck and the taste of her blood touched his taste buds, her body gave in. Complete and total pleasure flowed from her, taking him too. Together, they shared the fleeting sensation that made him forget everything but the sublime feel of another’s ecstasy.
As he held her to this mouth, Elise quietly whimpered her wish to never leave him, but that was just the spell he’d worked. Staying with her, no matter who the “her” was, couldn’t be. Saint had accepted that ages ago. Staying meant turning her and once that happened, what they’d just enjoyed could never happen again.
Saint closed the holes in her neck and cradled her face in his hands. Placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, he leaned back to study her. She was beautiful with light brown hair, warm brown eyes, and flawless skin. Any man would be crazy not to want to have her every night for the rest of his life.
“Thank you, Elise.”
“I don’t want to go. Let me stay.”
Her brown eyes full of desire stared up at him, and for the briefest moment, he considered letting her stay the night. How wonderful it would be to feel someone beside him as he drifted off to sleep for the day. To hold a woman in his arms for more than sex.
No.
“Thank you for the gift you’ve given me.”
Before she could say another word, Saint began to chant the words that would wipe the memory of this night from her mind. A few minutes later, he was dressed and she was asleep in his arms as he carried her to the sitting room and Solenne.
“Time for her to go home.” Saint placed her in Solenne’s arms. “Take care of her.”
“Of course. Your wish is my command.”
The tartness of her words made it quite clear his wish meant nothing to her. Not this one or any other.
“Just do it, Solenne.”
Alone, he returned to his room, but lying around watching overnight television wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was something to take his mind off the realities of life.
Solenne’s gym was basic, but it would do. As long as he could take the edge off, he’d be able to focus. Being cooped up in Solenne’s eighteenth century country house prison was beginning to take its toll. And she was doing her best to add to the misery.
Twenty minutes on the treadmill only made him wish he could run free through the French countryside instead of in a room forced to face a blank wall. It was unnatural to keep a vampire trapped like this.
Fucking Archons.
And where the hell were his vampires? Did a sire have to be a complete tyrant to receive help? By rights, they should have come as soon as he’d called them. That’s how this whole sire thing was supposed to work.
Fuck them too. They have no idea how much they’d miss the freedom I’ve given them.
The realization that his past hadn’t finished haunting him yet pushed him on for another half hour of running, the need to punish others morphing into the need to punish himself. His feet pounded into the rubber of the treadmill and his thigh muscles burned as he ran faster and faster toward nothing and away from everything. Sweat poured from him, soaking his back and chest. It ran into his eyes, blurring his vision and forcing him to squeeze them shut.
Every muscle in his body reacted to his punishment, used to his self-imposed torture and almost taunting him toward more. More punishment. Eventually more pain.
But never more of what he so desperately wanted. Never more of what he needed.
Peace.
Forgiveness.
Only inside himself would he find these, but years since everyone else had moved on, he still hadn’t forgiven himself.
Or her.
Exhausted, he hunched over the equipment, catching his breath. No closer to focusing on anything but the memory that haunted his every waking moment, he relented and let it consume him, unable to fight it.
More painful than anything he could devise as punishment, his thoughts of the past numbed him to the presence of an unnoticed audience to his usually private penance.
Five
Vasilije watched in disgust as Saint attempted to recover from the physical beating he’d forced on his body. He’d only watched for a minute or so as the fellow Son nearly ran the treadmill into the ground, but that was more than enough. Just watching it was exhausting.
“Fuck. Is that what you have to do to keep yourself looking like that? That looked like the least pleasurable thing I’ve ever seen.”
Saint’s expression at hearing his words told Vasilije that his time with Solenne had done little to improve his disposition, and his response reinforced the observation.
Lifting his head, he snapped, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Delighted to see you too, Saint.”
Pushing past him, Saint nearly knocked Terek and Solenne over in his hurry to get away.
“Wait, Saint. We need to talk,” Vasilije called after him as the three followed him up the stairs to his room where he’d already stripped naked and stood holding only a towel in front of him.
“No, we don’t. I need a shower. I have no idea what you or they need.”
“Just give us a few minutes, and then you can have your shower. We need to talk about your feeding.”
“My what?” Saint’s eyes flashed his growing anger at their presence.
“Your feeding. Solenne says you’re refusing her blood and only taking human blood.”
Vasilije felt Saint’s rage explode off him and take up all the space in the room. Solenne must have sensed it too because she took a small step back away from him and stood near Terek.
“Saint, we need you as strong…” Vasilije began.
One giant step brought Saint within inches of his face. Standing toe-to-toe with him, Vasilije stare
d into eyes full of fury.
“What you need to do is stay the fuck out of my business.”
Saint shot Solenne a look of cold hatred and Vasilije continued, hoping to diffuse his obvious anger with her. “Solenne didn’t say a thing until I asked, knowing your reputation.”
“Vasilije, what I choose to put into my body is my concern. Don’t make me tell you this again.”
Saint threw his shoulder into Vasilije’s as he silently stormed away toward the bathroom, flashing Solenne another look of hatred as he left the three of them standing in his bedroom.
Solenne’s expression showed the pain inflicted by Saint’s venom. Dropping her gaze, she stared at her hands and then looked at Vasilije, forcing a smile onto her lips.
“I’m sorry, Vasilije. I haven’t been successful in bringing him around, even though I’ve tried to do everything I can to make him happy here.”
Terek stepped close to her and gently touched her shoulder with his fingertips. “Don’t give up, Solenne. Some men just take longer to come around. He will. Just give him time.”
“He’s right. Saint is just more difficult than most. Has he had any vampire blood in the time he’s been here?”
Shaking her head, Solenne grimaced. “No. Only human blood. I don’t know how he does it. He’s only a few years older than I am, and I’d never be able to exist on their blood alone.”
“He’s done it for a long time,” Terek said. “It’s who he is.”
Vasilije nodded. “That may be true, but we need him strong for this fight. Solenne, we need you to keep offering him your blood. Now more than ever, he needs it.”
Solenne let out a heavy sigh and said quietly, “I will.”
“Let us know if you make any progress. With any luck, Saint will come around. But we’ve got bigger problems with Ramiel and Thane we need to get back to,” Vasilije said, thinking out loud.
As she led them out, Solenne said, “I wish I knew something, but Verrater has never mentioned anything about the prophecy. I guess that’s not surprising. So far they seem to be playing this whole thing as them ridding our world of vampires like you.”