Fallen Ever After (3 page)

I bit my lower lip. “What are you doing?”

“Fulfilling your request.”

He grinned as he pulled an oddly shaped object from under the bed. It looked like it had a rattan handle, and it reminded me of a fly swatter, but the end had a woven design that almost looked Celtic. I regarded the object with a wary look as he palmed it in one hand while holding the handle in the other.

He brought it away from his hand and brought it down again to thud in his palm. As I heard air whistle through it, desire shot down my spine. I licked my lips. I could almost feel the tingling warmth on my ass as I imagined how it would feel smacking against my heart-shaped derriere.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It’s a carpet beater. Quite the appropriate name for it, don’t you think?”

My underwear became damp.

“Cute.”

I knew better than to ask what the hell a rug beater was doing under the bed when the loft didn’t have any carpets. He kept plenty of creative things in the bedside table, and HFC hosted an array of toys to satisfy just about any fetish or fantasy.

“No, I’d say useful. The Dutch liked to use it when their children were naughty. Such a shame it had to be replaced by the carpet sweeper. But I can think of better things to do with it than beat rugs.”

I couldn’t resist the opening and walked right into it with a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “Such as?”

“Stand beside the bed, bend over, and I’ll show you.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I pushed off the bed and bent over it, holding myself up with my arms to brace for the sting of the carpet beater. Arie slid my underwear down my legs, where they bunched around my ankles.

“Spread your legs.”

I obeyed his gruff command but could only spread them as far as my underwear would stretch. I waited, but it was hard to be patient as he drew out the anticipation, which was almost hotter than what came next. I knew that I had to stand still and wait. He massaged my ass, moving lower, and barely brushed my pussy. I almost couldn’t take it anymore. It was always the tease, that moment right before the first blow, that made me feel like I would jump out of my skin. I flinched when I heard a whoosh, but when its rattan head met my ass in a resounding smack, I let out a yelp. At ten strokes I lost count as the hefty thwacks kept coming. But the woven design wouldn’t leave an imprint for more than a minute, with my newfound healing ability.

Then he stopped. His hand spanned the warmth that flooded my ass as he massaged and cupped me, then dipped lower.

He slid two fingers into my pussy. “You’re drenched.”

I moaned.

The erotic motion of his fingers sliding in and out of me was almost more than I could take. I needed him, wanted him—had to have him inside of me. The spanking would be enough to keep the visions away long enough to climax. Skin to skin contact usually brought them on, and whether it was submitting to Arie or our supernatural bond that kept them away, he was the first person who had ever made me orgasm. Well, besides orgasms that I had given myself. I moaned as his thumb circled my clit. He knew every inch of my body and what turned me on. These past few months had been surreal.

Without warning his cock was inside of me, stroking me, urging me with its length. His fingers gripped my shoulder while his other hand dug into my hip as he hammered into me.

Yes.

This was what I needed, and I needed him in every way imaginable. Sex was just the icing. His thrusts rode deep and hard with me bent over the bed. Arie’s hand left my shoulder and he reached around me to stroke my swollen clit. The circling pressure on my clit, and his long, hard thrusts drove me over the edge.

I let out a scream and my muscles clenched around him. He followed me over that edge, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside of me. We collapsed on top of the bed, his face buried in my neck, our breathing heavy. It would be hard to stick to my original plan of going out and paying everyone at the club a visit, but everyone had been so worried about me.

And I had a decision to make.

I didn’t have to be a vampire—not if I didn’t want to be.

Chapter 2

His head lay on my chest where we had rearranged ourselves on the bed to catch our breath. These were the good moments. These little moments when we were tangled in each other’s arms and the rest of the world stood still.

“We’re totally incompatible. You know that, right?” I stroked his hair teasingly.

“Oh? How so?”

“You’re insatiable and we’re never going to get anything done.”

Arie laughed. “Can you blame me? You’re gorgeous, and I’ve been holding back with you for so long it’s like a dam burst.”

I was quiet for a moment as I wondered if it might be better to bring up the obvious when he was relaxed, when he was open—which was usually right after sex. Maybe guilt, Katarina’s death, or the fact that so much had happened made it feel like I’d jumped from one frying pan into another.
Deep breath.
I could barely look at him when I voiced the niggling question in the back of my mind.

“But don’t you think we’ve jumped into things a little too fast?”

“It’s not like there was a choice.”

“Yeah. But now there is. We only started living together because there was a threat to my life,” I said softly. “I mean most people, most couples—they’ve been together for at least six months before they’d even consider moving in with one another, right?”

I wouldn’t even think about the promise ring he’d given me over Christmas, which at the moment lay on the nightstand next to the bed. His scavenger hunt had been the most erotic and romantic gesture that anyone had ever done for me. Arie surprised me. Conflicted me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a commitment; I did. In fact, I’d imagined something more than a promise ring eventually. But that was just it…it felt too soon, and my emotions were still so new and raw. And if I was still processing it, then how did Arie feel about Katarina’s death? Hell, when you’re with somebody that long, there are bound to be residual emotions, even if that somebody was totally twisted.

Arie tilted his head, looking up at me. “Six months? You know that’s kind of an arbitrary number.” The wounded look in his eyes took my breath away. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that you don’t want to live with me?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m saying…now there’s no threat and we have plenty of time, so maybe we should slow down and take the time to really get to know one another.”

It crushed me to hear Arie’s intake of breath, a thin hiss. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I’d never lived with anyone. At least not in a romantic sense. Other kids in foster care didn’t count. So much had happened, and he’d finally let go of Katarina. Or had he? I didn’t know for sure. What I did know was that it didn’t change his worry that the Sight would be harder on me as a vampire. Deep down, he had to wonder if I’d be able to handle it. It pissed me off being compared to her, and I wanted to know that he believed in me, that he knew that I was stronger than that.

“Holly, I want you to stay. I need you with me.”

I didn’t have an answer for him. There were no easy answers, and I wanted to stay more than anything. I just didn’t want to ruin what we had by rushing it, and it didn’t feel right staying now that my reason for being here was dead and gone. But I didn’t want to argue with him about it, either. I couldn’t stand the hurt in his eyes.

And there were other things I had to figure out for myself. Rue, my godmother, had told me that she would take me to meet my grandmother if I wanted her to. I’d never known my parents or anyone that I was related to by blood.
Blood.
A ripple of hunger coursed through me.

I nodded slowly, my only acknowledgment, because I wasn’t ready to agree to anything. “Let’s go out. Let me take a shower and then we’ll go.”

Arie’s brows knitted together. “You drive a hard bargain, Holly. We’ll revisit this after the club. We need to talk about this. I don’t want you to leave. I want you with me. I need you by my side.”

He paused.

“I didn’t think I could ever feel like this about anyone. You satisfy me. I feel content when I’m with you…it’s like coming home.”

I smiled as I continued to stroke his hair. His words almost made me want to take back what I’d said. Other than the Ellis family, I’d never had a home. Not a real one. Arie had become my world, and we shared so much passion. We had more than that. Knowing it wasn’t just the fact that I rocked his world meant everything to me. Maybe reminding him he’d been buried inside of me moments ago would take his mind off the bomb I just dropped. “I figured a satiated man would be a lot easier to persuade to get out of bed and do something other than suck on my nipples and spank my ass.”

Arie grinned. “I suppose our prelude should just about tide me over. But don’t take too long in the shower. You’re only going to get sweaty again later.”

With a smile I slid out from under Arie, who had been using me like a body pillow. “Why don’t you join me?”

Arie groaned. “It’s a good thing we’re already dead, because we’d fuck each other to death otherwise. And that is precisely why I shouldn’t join you in the shower.”

“Precisely?” I laughed as I pushed myself off the bed and padded across the floor to the bathroom, glad the injured look had left his face. I bent to scoop a bra off the bedroom floor, deliberately taunting him with the view of my ass. “Suit yourself.”

I closed the bathroom door behind me. It muffled the string of expletives that followed. Lord, how I loved that man. He’d forget what century we lived in sometimes and go all formal in his tone and choice of words. But he could be gruff, cocky, and downright blunt at other times. It was an interesting contradiction, and I always wondered what would come out of his mouth next. Better to take a shower or we would indeed fuck each other to death.

*****

He had to be at least six-foot-three, even without the platform Goth boots. I looked into the dark eyes of the stranger dancing with me. Before meeting Arie I never hung out in Goth clubs, but I gyrated on the dance floor to the pumping music that echoed off the converted warehouse walls while I waited to see Victoria. Arie perched on a barstool, watching with an amused look on his face was I danced with the vampire groupie.

The smell of leather, cheap knock-off cologne, and sweat lingered in the air, intensifying my libido. I moved with the crush of bodies grinding on the dance floor, undulating with the tide as the human that I’d just met leaned into me. I could sense his desire, his dark need, and part of me considered that it was wrong to lead him on like this, wrong to let him think that I was interested in him for anything other than a feed.

But when he’d offered to buy me a drink, Arie had nodded at me encouragingly. I thought watching me move with the guy on the dance floor turned him on—or rather, watching me hunt got him hot. Although, I couldn’t be sure exactly what Arie thought, with his expression that looked both amused and a little bored at the same time.

“Come with me,” the human shouted above the nosebleed tempo that made conversation damn near impossible. “My table is over there.”

The stranger’s way of speaking felt odd after being with Arie. Semi-formal, stiff speech was part of Arie’s allure. His decorous yet blunt mannerism when I first met him at the Coffee Grind drew me to him. An ancient vampire, he dressed in tasteful but casual clothing beneath a black leather jacket that helped him blend in with the Goth and punk fashions at the club. So unlike the stranger that I was following, in his black trench coat and glossy black, waist-length hair, severe white-powdered make-up and black lipstick.

Two guys and a girl around my age sat at a table in a darkened corner. The girl glared at me as I approached them. My black cargoes slid across the faux-leather seat as I sunk into the semi-circular booth. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into his side. Her glare deepened into a frown that creased her forehead.

“Brandon, who’s your friend?” she asked, her voice steeped with derision.

Brandon. I remember now.

I’d found it hard to remember names long before out-of-control hormones had run amok from becoming a vampire.

“Holly, this is Jess.”

The girl looked a bit familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I winced as her open-toe shoe banged into my ankle under the table. Her toe brushed against my ankle when she drove my cargo pant up my leg as she kicked me. I was pretty damn sure she had kicked me on purpose, but I didn’t have time to consider it as the Sight took over and images spun through my mind.

Jess was sitting at a kitchen table across from Brandon in a cramped apartment. They ate carry-out from Styrofoam containers. He slurred his words and Jess snickered. Fury etched his features before he struck her and blood spurted from her nose. She cried out, tears welling in her eyes, and then she flung a slew of curses at him.

The images began to fade and no one at the table seemed to notice me shudder or catch the blank stare. I knew that I got this sort of blank expression whenever the Sight took over. And the passage of time seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

“Whatever,” she grumbled, before taking a swig from the beer bottle on the table.