My breath catches as erotic tremors ripple through me. My husband knows my body, every tiny nerve, every hidden button that evokes pleasure from me. He flexes his hips, moving again, deepening his thrust. “Oh, my God, Ben. You’re so good.”
Faster, inhumanly fast, he teases the nerve bud inside me, rocking me, exploring my folds with his thumb, and finding an entirely new rhythm.
“I’m, I’m…” I cry out, his speed pulling a gasp from me.
In a blur, he’s knelt between my legs and staring up at me, his blue eyes mixed with red. “Your eyes are almost purple.”
“As purple as your clit, which I plan on licking until you scream.”
He works his fingers inside of me as he laps at my clit, drawing me closer and closer to a bliss-filled climax. White dots fill my hazy dream state as I think this man, my husband, my vampire is finally here with me. He loves me. He’s not dead. He’s not lying in a coffin in the middle of the town cemetery. He’s home, and we’re going to be together forever.
“Come, baby.”
His command sends me over the edge as I grip his hair with my hands, tugging until I hear him purr as he works his way up the length of my body with a feral hunger that should terrify me. But this is Ben. My protector. My pleasure master. “Ben! Oh, Ben…”
I stiffen, allowing the ecstasy he’s giving me, giving us both, to irrevocably bind us together. He retakes me, burying himself deep and pinning me with his weight, his desire, his love. I prick his shoulders with my nails, pulling him against me. My toes curl as wave after luxurious wave sends me sailing and carries me off to the edge of the world.
His lips find mine, slower this time, sure, calm. I’m tingling from my roots to my toenails and everywhere in between. I shouldn’t push this, but I find I’m still hungry for my vampire. I mumble, drunk on all the tender caresses lavished on me, and his love. “I never want to stop. I want you inside me forever.”
He murmurs against my mouth, “As many nights as we’ve lost, I think I can make arrangements.”
Ben
Asleep, Camille’s sated from our lovemaking, her soft, sleep-laden breaths, causing her chest to rise and fall under the weight of my arm. No longer are her cheeks pale but painted a peach-colored blush. Her warmth seeps into me, bone-deep, soothing my very soul—if I have one. She does, and I don’t want to screw that up for her. She’s also alive, with a human lifespan ahead of her, and babies if she wants them. She’d always wanted a big family. A dream of hers I’ll never fulfill.
As if my body’s temperature can drop further, a chill rattles through me. How can I survive without Camille? How can I survive with her when she faints at the sight of blood? I don’t want to let her go. But that chill I label “selfish”… By keeping her here, selfish is precisely what I am. If we flee this place and exist as a couple only in the dead of night, I’m depriving her of sunlight, of life.
I don’t want to rob her of anything, which means I must decide for her. An impossible decision for both of us if I’m honest.
With fluid movements, I plant a feather-light kiss on her beautiful cheek as I roll away, tucking the blanket against her back to replace my body. I’m immortal. She’s not. I don’t want this underground, dangerous life for her, so I must do the right thing. The only thing I should have done. From the beginning.
Chapter Three
Camille
A shadow stretches across the earthen floor inside the torch-lit underground. The click of a handgun is as expected as the disappearance of Ben. I’d felt his pain, even though the love we’d made could have fueled the glorious sun. He didn’t bite me or cause me pain. Quite the opposite. He is my Ben, honest, honorable, gentle, playful, and oh-so-very passionate.
“Camille, are you okay?” Anderson, along with his men, stands poised, flashlights and guns raised, the steady beads fanning red and gold arcs into the depths of the underground.
Anderson’s face falls when he meets my gaze.
He knows I’m hurting, bold tears streaming down my hot cheeks as I sit perched on the nest Ben made for us. “Where is he?”
Anderson shakes his head, but his side-eye betrays him. He knows where Ben is.
Classified.
My heart sinks further, and the icy chill of the catacombs permeates me to the core. Maybe Ben and I aren’t so different, both of us uncertain about how to embrace our new life as a couple. I suspect it’s hard for him to see me as both his lover and food.
“Ben told you where to find me, didn’t he?”
“Yes. Before he left.”
Anderson’s smile is nothing more than a flat line, the disappointment and betrayal just as apparent by his deep-set eyes.
“He’s a good man, my husband.”
“The best of them.” Anderson offers his hand.
I take hold as he helps me to my feet, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. I lean into the yoke of his arm, burrowing into his side more than I should. Comfort is what I’ve needed—still need. But as I stand upright, I have to respect Ben’s choices. He is a good man, even though the decision he’s made for both of us is dead wrong.
“Thank you for seeing Ben as both human and vampire. For treating him with respect, and for your kindness.”
“I wish I could do more…”
Anderson’s somber tone gives me pause, and I glance behind me, into the darkness, thankful to know the truth. My husband is a warrior, a hero, free now. I mouth the words, wishing in some way Ben could see through the dense walls, “I love you. I always will. Forever. And then after...”
Camille
At work, the keyboard under
