Destined to Dream, page 6
I just wanted to burst into tears.
It was too much, too open, and too normal. I thought that’s what I wanted, but apparently my priorities shifted alongside everything else in my life. Normal fucking sucks. I hated it when I was human, and I despise it now.
So here I am; curled in on myself on the floor like I’m right back in the cage I woke up in, trying to hold myself together and comfort myself in silence. Back then, I wanted to shrink until I was invisible, too small to notice. And while the situation is vastly different, the impulse returns, because right now? Malcolm treats me like I’m the center of his world, the only thing worth noticing.
I need him to freaking blink for once and let me out from under the microscope.
A weary sigh makes me thump my head back against the wall. “You’re being an ungrateful jerk, Scar. People would kill for this kind of devotion.” I wince before the words are fully out of my mouth. “Which you did, and he still treats you like you hung the moon.” Tightening my hold on my legs for a minute, I force myself to admit at least to myself, “You’re just afraid that since he looks so closely, he’s going to see right through you. It’s only a matter of time until he realizes that he was saddled with a defective mate and you crush him when he’s been nothing short of amazing.”
Fated mates are supposed to be... everything. There’s no looking at another person twice after finding yours, no desire to ditch them for a hot piece of ass. Hell, even the shifters I knew back home that weren’t fated and simply created their own packs were loyal to one another, like the concept of cheating on their mate wasn’t even in their vocabulary. Mages are way more open with their sexuality than humans, but still, all of the ones I met had the decency to be open from the beginning that they weren’t looking for anything serious. Hell, I’d even had a fling with a couple, back before I realized it’d never work long term since I felt so inadequate in comparison. Even then, I never had to worry about getting cheated on. Caleb bluntly told me to my face that someone else caught his eye and asked if I wanted to try to work on our relationship or if we may as well call it so he could explore other options.
And none of them were fated mates.
Yet here I am, spoiled rotten by someone absolutely devoted to me, and I’m fantasizing about pushing the shifter that scent marked me to the ground and sinking my teeth into one of his broad shoulders. He was solid and sturdy, but in a comforting way instead of being all ripped muscle. The moment he first embraced me, it was like my world shrunk to the confines of his arms, simple and manageable, and I could breathe easier. But with that Xanax hug came the sweet, mouthwatering scent of his blood, and I had to force myself to hold my breath as much as possible until he finished.
“Malcolm deserves so much better than you,” I whisper into the darkness.
I hurt him if I refuse to let him mark me, and I devastate him if I accept it. With the emotional telepathy thing he claims comes with the bond, like it’s some fun and fabulous prize he’s using as a selling point, he’d feel the surge of longing and know. He’d know that vampires are just garbage humans.
Literally.
“So be better.” Nodding to myself like a lunatic, I continue to fill the depressed silence with one sided conversation. “You don’t have to act on it; you clearly have impressive control or you’d have torn his throat open.”
Getting to my feet, I fumble my way out of the plush nest and remake my bed, removing all evidence that I can’t keep my shit together when so much is riding on me being able to. “Malcolm will understand that it’s not my fault the gods were drunk when they created vamps and forgot to add the chastity belt into the fated mate coding for us. And knowing him, he’ll just be impressed by my level of restraint and it’ll give him hope that when it comes time to pitch to the world that we aren’t any more of a threat than shifters or mages, it’ll be a fact instead of a prayer.”
Straightening the last pillow and smoothing out the comforter, I grab my laptop and sit on the freshly made bed, coming to a decision as I boot up my game to keep me out of my head. I’ll lay it all out there for Malcolm and let him make the choice if he wants to be tied to me or not, in light of the new development. But I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself, and if I look at this bond as a good thing like he does, it would mean that when I’m beating myself up and starting to spiral, he’d know. And Malcolm’s the sort of man that would drop whatever he was doing to try and catch me before I fell too far, which is all the more incentive to keep myself in check so I don’t become a burden.
It also means I’d feel what he does, and even if it was orchestrated, he really seems to love me. It’d be a pretty nice change of pace if I could, too.
Chapter 9
Malcolm
Unbuttoning the cuffs of my final sleeve, I shed my suit jacket as the elevator door opens. What was supposed to be a relatively quick meeting ran three damn hours over, and I’m exhausted. Though my bed is calling my name, I seek out Scarlett. Not only because she’s the best vision to wake up or fall asleep to, but she’s been trapped up here all day with no one to talk to. After being forced to live so long in silence, the phantom cacophony of screams haunting her day and night as her memories return, it kills me to think of her sitting up here all alone.
I’d give anything to bring her with me to my office, where she could keep me company as she became lost in her games while I endured an endless parade of people pitching ideas, shoving stacks of documents my way to be reviewed. But until I can find a way to turn ‘shifter’ into a perfume line, I can’t risk it. Every shifter in the building recognizes Hendrix’s scent; it’s not like fooling strangers in a department store, or out on the street. It’s a warning to other shifters nearby that the person covered in their scent is off limits. Whether it’s a lover, a child of a mixed species pack, or a friend, it means if you touch them, there’s going to be hell to pay.
But here, with no underlying shifter scent of her own, people will assume human or mage, and her vivid eye color will shoot both theories out of the water. So for now, until I can figure out the next step, she needs to stay where I know she’s safe.
Frowning when I see that she’s not in her room, I head over to check the bath, but the door’s wide open. “Scarlett?”
“In here,” she replies, and my eyebrows jump to my hairline as I backtrack to my room.
She’s sitting cross legged in the center of my bed, fisting the blanket like she means to pry genuine sapphires from the color by force. Tossing my jacket on the floor and kicking off my shoes, I crawl onto the mattress, kneeling in front of her and settling my palms on her tense shoulders.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, love, I didn’t mean to worry you. I need to get you a phone so-”
“I want you to mark me.” My ears start ringing as the silence following her words becomes deafening. Wiping her sweaty palms on the blanket as she releases it, she squirms. “Malcolm? Do you-” she swallows “-if you still want, I mean.”
Her anxiety has me snapping out of my shocked state and reaching out to cup the side of her face, thumb stroking over her cheek. “What brought this on?”
A flash of something crosses her eyes, and for the thousandth time, I wish our bond was established so that I could get a read on her. But now here she is, asking, and all I feel is a sense of dread instead of relief. She’s wound impossibly tight to the point a harsh breeze would blow her over, and struggling to meet my eye. I want my mate desperately, but I need her to want me to, not just... relent, like she’s tired of fighting.
When she doesn’t answer, I lean in, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Talk to me, beautiful. Did something happen today?” As she starts trembling, I try to lighten the tension. “Because if you’re just incredibly horny, you do know that I can fuck you six ways to Sunday, no mark necessary, right?”
Her trembling ceases with her breathy laugh and I mentally sigh in relief. Continuing to stroke her cheek without pressing the issue, I wait for her to be ready to talk now that the edges of the ominous cloud have begun to dissipate.
Straightening her spine, she looks me dead in the eye, hers glassy and hard with determination. “It was hard not to bite that shifter when he was scent marking me.”
My eyes darken immediately. “He frightened you? I promise you, Scarlett, Hendrix is loyal and kind; he’d never hurt you, nor would I allow it if he so much as tried. But if he makes you uncomfortable, I’ll make sure you never have to see him again and I’ll arrange for a diff-”
“He smelled good!” she blurts out as her cheeks start to mirror her name. “I wasn’t scared, I wanted to feed off of him. I’m glad it happened, though, because I’ve gotten spoiled up here and sort of forgot what it was like being around other people. It was a good test of restraint before we went outside, and it made the rest of the smells less overwhelming after having my face shoved right against the dude’s throat.”
Leaning my forehead against hers, I resume my steady stroking. “I’m so damn proud of you, love, that can’t have been easy on you. Is that why you’ve been subdued the last couple of days? It shook you up a bit, worried you might hurt someone?”
Her lip wobbles as she pulls away and I frown, but let her go. Gods, I wish I could read her so I could skip the guessing games and just know what she needed.
Voice watery as she fights tears, she says, “But feeding now that I’m not feral is-” she’s forced to pause as she chokes back a sob and I finally crack, her distress sending a physical pang through me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I guide us to lie on our sides, holding her tightly against me. “Ssh, deep breaths for me, love. It’s alright, you’re alright.”
A few hot tears soak into my shirt, so I stroke her back, hoping I can pull her back before she breaks down. She’s hovering right on the precipice, and with a few minutes of steady breathing, she regains control of herself, drying her few tears on my shirt. I keep her pinned against my chest for good measure, hoping it’ll be easier to talk if she doesn’t have to look at me, anxiously watching my face for signs that I’m upset by whatever she’s trying to say.
“Want to tell me what’s got you so upset now? Or do you want me to start guessing and you can tell me if I’m on the right track or not?”
She grips my shirt in a tight fist, burrowing her face against my chest to hide. “Now that I’m not feral, feedings are, well, you know.”
My face stays scrunched up until it suddenly clicks and my eyes widen with understanding. “You’re worried that it’s not the mate part, but the actual feeding. So now it’s a confusing jumble of hunger and sexual hunger?” At her jerky nod, I cautiously press, praying I’m not reading this wrong and about to put an idea in there that isn’t already. “So you’re beating yourself up because you had a visceral reaction to Kasen and aren’t sure if it was hunger or lust, and you’re worried that in the heat of the moment if you had to feed off of someone else, you might lose control and have sex with them even if you were mated?”
She groans. “It’s got to be hunger, right? Because fated mates don’t get crushes after meeting their mate?” My stomach flips, because she’s completely right. Which means either vampires have yet another thing working against them, or more likely...
“You gorgeous, amazing, anxiety ball, let me make a few things perfectly clear.” She starts to retreat, and I jerk her back against me, not wanting her to start crying again. “One, I strive to never have you in a position where you’re so hungry that you’re at risk of losing control. Between myself, packing blood bags in your lunch box, or that you can eat regular food to stave off the cravings, you’ll be fine.”
“And two-” my fingers dig into her back and I have to forcibly lessen the pressure, the sound of the outlet surging behind me a muted distraction. “If, and that’s a heavy if since we’re speaking strictly hypothetically right now, you ever find yourself on the brink of starvation or in a dangerous situation, do whatever you need to in order to survive. Yes, the thought of you sleeping with someone outside of whatever unit we find ourselves in makes me want to throw up. But there’s also a difference between you being desperate to survive, and sleeping with someone else because you’re indifferent to my feelings and don’t value our relationship. While it would be rough, we’d figure it out somehow. But if the choice was you dry humping someone so you could make it back to me safe? Love, I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”
Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Maybe you just conditioned me to associate feedings with foreplay.”
Smiling softly, I roll so she’s pinned beneath me, my hands braced beside her head, caging her in. “I would apologize, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered.”
Bending down to kiss her, I wait until she melts into me, finally relaxing and lets some of her fears subside. Nipping at her lip, I swallow her gasp, pulling away with a grin before I sigh, knowing we need to hash the rest of this out before I get carried away.
"Explain this one to me, because I'm a little lost. You suddenly want my mark because you wanted to assuage your guilt? Like you owed me something to even the scales, or something equally ridiculous? Because I'll be completely honest, Scarlett, this is a big deal for me, the same way it should be for you. If we're not on the same page about that, I'd rather wait."
Her features soften. "Don't get me wrong, I still am struggling a bit with how one-sided things are, but not as much as I was before. It'd be nice if I had something to do so I could pretend I was contributing to this relationship." As I open my mouth to protest, she covers it with her hand and raises an eyebrow. "I'm not fishing for compliments, I'm stating a fact. That's where I'm at, but it's my own insecurities and I'm working on them." I kiss her palm and tip my head for her to carry on as she drops her hand to wrap around my neck instead.
"And as I've been working all of that out in my head, I realized a big part of my holdout was that I don't feel like I deserve you. You're so inherently good and considerate, caring and patient." She arches up to kiss me and my magic slips its leash to wrap around her, urge her closer, and attempt to singe her clothes right off. "But even if I don't deserve you, I've accepted that if I'm a terrible person, why not be selfish and keep you?"
A growl slips from my lips as I capture her mouth, sliding a hand down her side and tracing over her curves. "Now, how am I supposed to argue with such flawless logic?"
She hums beneath me, reaching between us to undo my belt. Pulse pounding, I reluctantly pull away long enough to unbutton my shirt, tossing it aside and stealing another hungry kiss from her before stripping her of hers. "You're absolutely sure?"
She nods, lifting her hips as I tug at her shorts. "Go on, shoot your magic hand lasers, I can take it."
Barking out a laugh, I drag her shorts down her legs as I get to my feet. "Gods, you're perfect." My praise turns into a tortured groan as she's left only in her bra, reclining on her hands as she sits up enough to watch me strip. Dragging the zipper down slowly, I free myself and kick my pants away, pumping my length once to ease the ache while her pupils dilate. Holding her gaze, I crawl onto the bed, sliding a hand behind her back and releasing the clasp with a flick of my fingers. Chucking her bra aside, I gently push her onto her back, soaking up the sight of her naked in my bed.
"My visions did not do you justice." Recapturing her lips, I kiss her breathless, and when my tongue flicks across her lengthening tooth I smile. "I think you might be onto something here, gorgeous. Please, don't hold back on my account."
Her hands slide up my chest, nails lightly scoring my shoulders. "I don't want you to think I only want to do this if-"
With a growl, I grab one of her wrists, bringing her hand down to wrap around my cock, pre cum already beading on the tip. "Stop thinking so much and do what feels right. Tell me what you want, love, before I make you scream it, but you're killing me here." Keeping my hand wrapped over hers, I force her to stroke me from tip to base and back again. "There is nothing you could do to me that I won't like, simply because you're the one doing it. So if you want to bite me, damn it, bite me."
Without preamble she strikes, and my cock jerks at the sudden pinch of pain. A soft moan vibrates the crook of my shoulder that threatens my rapidly fraying control. Running my palm down the side of her breast, her hip, I grip her thigh and hitch her leg up, slinging it over my arm.
There'll be time for soft and sweet, teasing explorations and orgasm challenges later. Right now, my magic is bursting out of my skin, wreaking havoc on the room around us, and the desperation to be inside of her is nearly blinding.
Reaching between us, I drag the head of my cock over her slick entrance with a low groan. "Fuck, sweetheart, you're already so wet for me.”
Her response comes in the form of sucking harder on my neck and I buck my hips, slamming inside of her with a solid, punishing thrust. A small, muffled cry breaks through my haze of lust and I force myself to stay still, sweat beading on my temples. “I’m sorry, I-”
“Don’t stop,” she gasps, tearing herself away from my neck long enough I can catch the wild look in her eyes. “Please.” Rolling her hips to encourage me, I crush my lips to hers, the coppery taste of my blood on her tongue surprisingly erotic.
She needs me as much as I need her.
Finally confident we’re on the same page, I give up all pretense of restraint, pinning her knee to her chest between us as I stretch over her, reducing her entire world to the two of us, no room to get lost in her head. Her mouth returns to my neck as I drive into her, each thrust more brutal than the last. Sharp nails dig into my back as she clings to me, muffled pleas and gasps drowned out by panting breaths.
Static covers my hands as I slip one between us, sending electric pinpricks of restless energy into her clit as I circle it furiously. She arches her back, releasing my neck with a litany of curses as her nails carve grooves into my shoulder blades. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
