D. Reynolds - Aden

“But why would she send you away when you’d saved her life?”

“She had other vampire children by that time, and I’d grown too powerful. She was afraid of me. She called it a gift when she released me, but really, she was just sending me away. I was alone for half a century after that. I had no one until I found Bastien and made him my own.”

“But how could you be lovers if she was afraid of you?”

“Sex between us had grown infrequent by then. She said I was cold. That while I knew where to touch, where to put my tongue, how to deliver pleasure, there was no passion in my lovemaking. When she released me, she kissed me good-bye and said she hoped I’d find my passion someday.”

“And did you?”

Aden looked down at Sidonie, at her crystal blue eyes gazing up at him with such honesty, at the wild copper curls tangled on the pillow beneath her. He brushed a length of hair away from her bruised cheek, marveling at the contrast between them—his hands seeming so big and rough next to her delicate features, so dark against her pale skin.

“You tell me, Sidonie. Am I cold?”

She blinked up at him for a puzzled instant, then her arms looped around his neck, and her fingers stroked his nape. “No,” she whispered. “You’re the sapphire heart of the hottest flame. When I’m with you, I feel like the sexiest woman in the whole world. I feel cherished and safe.” She swallowed. “I feel loved.”

Aden froze. Did he love Sidonie? Had more than two and half centuries of life brought him to this place and time so that he could finally know what it meant to love someone? To love this woman? He kissed her again, a tender brush of his lips that became a lingering kiss, a seduction of her mouth. Sidonie met his kiss with eager passion, her mouth opening beneath his, her tongue darting out to taste him, to weave around his until he felt the hunger rising in him, the need to possess her again, to claim her as his own.

He lifted his hips, letting his already-hard shaft drag in the wetness between her thighs. Sidonie made a greedy little noise and spread her legs wider, thrusting against him.

“Am I cold, Sidonie?” he whispered again.

“No,” she insisted fiercely. She reached between their bodies, taking his cock in her slender fingers and stroking him lovingly before tightening her grip and placing his tip between the swollen folds of her sex, letting him feel her heat.

There was nothing cold about his Sidonie, he thought as he as plunged deep into her silky warmth, her sheath clasping and releasing his cock as he drove in and out. He groaned at the satin slickness of her pussy, at the sensual fullness of her breasts, the hard pearls of her nipples.

The slow seduction became a demand as his pace quickened. He slammed his hips between her thighs, his cock burying itself deep inside her, then pulling out and doing it again. Her sheath squeezed him with every thrust, a thousand fingers caressing his length, stroking him, urging him to come, to go over that edge with her, to tumble into the unknown of ecstasy, to take the chance.

“I love you,” she whispered against the sweat-slick skin of his neck, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back, her legs crossed over his back, trapping him inside her. “You’re my passion, Aden. I love you.”

A rush of emotion answered her whispered vow, a fire that spread to every inch of his body, lighting up his nerves and warming his cold heart until it slammed against his ribs, feeling as if it was beating willingly for the first time in two centuries. As if until now, this moment, it had pumped only because it had to, because it kept him alive. He felt it pounding in his chest, felt Sidonie’s heat surrounding him, welcoming him, loving him.

The climax came from nowhere, roaring over his body, every muscle taut with desire, every nerve thrumming with electricity. His balls tightened and his cock swelled, growing harder and thicker inside Sidonie, filling her so completely he could barely move. She moaned, a sound full of heat and desire, and it was his name on her lips.

“Aden.” She repeated it like a prayer, her head thrown back, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Aden growled, his fangs splitting his gums eagerly, hungry for her blood, for the fever that was Sidonie. His Sidonie.

He lowered his mouth to her neck, slicing through her velvet skin, piercing the thin wall of her vein and drinking down the smooth, honeyed flow of her blood, feeling it speeding to every cell of his body, giving him life, giving him her.

She bucked beneath him, crying out as his bite brought euphoria instead of pain, her mouth closing on his shoulder as she tried to muffle her scream. He felt his skin tear beneath her teeth, felt the pull as she swallowed his blood. He tightened his grip, lowering his full weight onto her body, holding her in place as she thrashed against the double assault of his bite and his blood. She’d never tasted that much of his blood before, never had that connection. Aden knew what could be forged if she drank more, if he permitted her to do it again in the future. A powerful link would be created, the kind of link humans could only try to replicate with their vows and their protestations of love.

If asked, he’d have said he didn’t want such a link with anyone. So he couldn’t explain why he pressed her face against his shoulder, while he urged her to bite harder, to drink more. Why his cock stirred anew when she complied, why he joined her as she moaned against his skin, as a final orgasm rolled through them both, leaving her shuddering and limp in his arms.

Aden gathered Sidonie close, holding her tightly as he rolled over and pulled the comforter back on the bed, then slid them both into the warmth beneath the covers.

“You’re staying with me today,” he said fiercely. “No more roaming around the office for you.”

She didn’t even stir, only cuddled deeper into his embrace and went to sleep. He smiled down at her, marveling at the feelings tightening his chest. He didn’t know if it was in his nature to take a mate in the vampire way, to bind someone to him forever. What he felt for Sidonie was love, but forever was a long time. She might grow tired of him, of the life he led. Maybe she wanted children and grandchildren, and he could give her none of those.

But for now, she was his. And he intended to keep her for a very long time.

“Sleep, nuur il-‘en. We have a busy night tomorrow.”

SID WOKE WITH a smile as a muscled arm looped around her waist and pulled her in, sliding her across the sheets and tucking her underneath his heavy body as if she weighed nothing. She opened her eyes to find Aden staring down at her, looking like a man who’d been waiting impatiently for her to wake up.

“Is it nighttime again?” she asked sleepily, reaching up to brush a thick lock of black hair out of his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked instead, his gaze so intent that it made her wonder if she should be feeling worse than she did.

“Um. A little sore?” she ventured. “You’re a big guy and—”

“Not that, Sidonie,” he said, though he couldn’t stop the smug smile that curved his lips.

“Oh!” she said, then frowned, as if just remembering the beating she’d taken at the hands of that creep Carl Pinto, remembering the explosion and fire afterwards. “Surprisingly well, actually.” Her frown deepened as she realized just how good she really did feel. She drew a deep, testing breath, and there wasn’t even a twinge from her ribs. She touched her face cautiously. Her cheekbone had been so swollen that she could see it without a mirror. But it seemed completely healed, not tender and no longer swollen. And she felt rested in a way she hadn’t in weeks, although that could be explained by the rigors of the previous night. She blushed hotly, remembering exactly what some of those rigors had entailed.

Aden caught the blush, of course, and grinned, as if he knew what she was thinking about.

“Can you read my mind?” she asked accusingly.

“Only if I try.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Unless it’s necessary for your safety.”

She pursed her lips, thinking about that one. He laughed and bent his head to kiss her, coaxing her lips with soft caresses, until her mouth opened to him.

When he lifted his head again, she was breathless . . . but still in possession of a brain, so she asked, “How long did I sleep?” thinking that perhaps she’d been unconscious for days, and that’s why her various injuries were healing already.

“Through the day, a little longer. Sunset was an hour ago.”

“But just one day?”

“You’re wondering why your injuries have healed,” he guessed.

She nodded.

“Do you remember biting me?” He nodded his chin at his left shoulder where she could just make out the imprint of a human bite mark. Her bite?

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” she said instantly. “I don’t—”

He kissed her again, stopping the flow of words. “Don’t apologize, habibi. It was a good thing.”

“Did it hurt?”

He didn’t answer her directly, saying instead, “My blood healed you.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Professor Dresner, that bitch,” she added, when his eyes narrowed at the name. “She told me the reason you all were so good-looking—”

“Not all of us.”

Sid rolled her eyes. “The reason so many of you are good-looking is because once you become a vampire, your blood heals everything that was wrong, all the defects.”