Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (25 page)

End it.

She recoiled at the loud voice in her head.

“Are you expecting pity?” His brows knitted.

She hid her face in her hands. “What was I supposed to do?” The wetness painted her cheeks and dribbled off her chin. “You came into my life, and you weren’t kind. You kept threatening my family and no matter what I felt—what you
made
me feel for you, I’d choose them.
Every time.
” She shook steadily as more tears made their way onto her lap. “Did you expect me to just fall all over you? To be excited? Happy to marry a demon?”

Tensley’s smirk faltered, and he swallowed. “You’re walking a thin line,
Molly.
”

She could see the darkness filtering into his eyes. She could see the barrier he was forming between them, the waves of aggression he shot at her, a sign to back down, but right then, on edge, backing down was her last thought.

“Oh, are you touchy about that subject?” She glared at him.

“You should face your own
demons,
” he said bitterly, his mouth warped into a tough frown.

The warmth returned behind Molly’s eyes. “Cree said he was going to help.”

“He didn’t though, did he?” He snarled and jabbed his fingers through his thick hair. “I should have just left you in that burning building.”

She stared at him. “But you didn’t.”

He paced, on edge. “I should have. You think you know me—from what? A few meetings, a few fumbles? You don’t know me. Sure, I might be better than some of my kind, but that doesn’t cancel out what I am.”

She froze, terrified of his darkening features, of his words. “You saved me, though. Surely that meant…something…” she muttered, dumbstruck.

“Yeah, for my own purposes! There’s no hero here, only a villain. Don’t expect chivalry from me, because it’s dead.” He sounded like he was trying to convince them both, and his bunched hands loosened beside him.

She wanted to laugh aloud. Her emotions were fried, all used up by the last month of terror, anger, and lust, in revolving order. Now all three were stupidly combined in her; coupled with the warlocks’ and diviners’ voices, she could barely keep it together.

“I tried to kill you. At the bar, I was going to poison your drink, but then you were acting different and…I told myself I wasn’t like you. I wasn’t heartless. So I knocked it over.”

Why am I telling him this?
To prove I’m no angel either?

Her mind cartwheeled, egged on by the voices.

“I was just trying to get into your panties,” he retorted, straightening to his full height. “But you’ve proven far more difficult to convince.”

“So you acted like you were interested, hoping I’d think you liked me.” Her throat grew painfully dry.

He looked at her, his head slightly bowed. “That was the plan, to mark you, but now I don’t even want to bother with you. I’m not interested.”

Her heart thundered in her throat. “I don’t know what to say to make this better, but I’m sorry. I-I thought if I broke the contract without Cree it would work, but he figured it out and came after us. I’m sorry.” She stood up, lightheaded but determined to leave, to find her own damn way to get rid of the voices.

Tensley snatched her wrist halfway to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” she snapped. Heat consumed her vision
.
“You’re not going to help me, so I’ll find my own way.”

His features were distorted through her watery vision. She noted his clenched jaw, a muscle twitching there. “You’ll die.”

She shrugged and chuckled softly, hoping it would mask her fear, her sadness, her fragility in his grip. “Isn’t that my fate?
Death.
Either from you, or some
gorgon,
or the demon hunters who’ve got it out for me—”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he murmured.

She glared, fighting the urge to sob. “Oh, you don’t care about my
safety.
I’m just a source of energy to you. Someone to
breed
with.”

“I care more than I should,” he began, his voice unnervingly calm.

Molly’s brows lowered. “First, you don’t want me here, and then you tell me you care about me?”

His eyes softened and he sighed. “I’m pissed off, all right? My emotions are heightened—we experience things in extreme.”

Molly couldn’t tear her eyes from him and stayed quiet as he took a deep breath.

“I should say thanks—
you
were the one who got us out of there. You saved us.” His hand gripped tighter around her wrist. “Sit.” He guided her back to the bed and she did so, sitting down as she watched him pace. “Trust is important in my relationships. If I don’t have it, well, consider yourself screwed.”

She wanted to say something, but her ears ached, then her nose—and when she pressed her fingertip to an earlobe, she felt a warm wetness there. Red painted her forefinger. “I’m bleeding.”

Tensley stopped moving, taking large steps toward her to examine her face. “Molly,” he breathed, and she noted that his angry fire had tempered. “There’s no blood.”

The delusions were too much, and her voice cracked as she wailed openly in front of him. He didn’t say anything, only stared back with his hands on her shoulders. “Tensley, please. Please forgive me. I just want it to go away.”

“You’re not sorry,” he murmured. “You’re afraid.”

The voices screeched in her head, and she jolted painfully. “I’m not sorry for trying to protect my family, but I’m sorry for hurting you.” She wanted him to wrap his muscular, strong arms around her, to cradle her. She didn’t want to be stubborn. “Trust
me.”

For a moment, they shared a tender, deep gaze that made her breath catch in the back of her throat. He stood and went to his bathroom, reentering with a tiny razor blade. He pressed the sharp edge to his thumb, a dot of dark red blood welling to the surface. “You might feel out of it for a few hours,” he said, cautiously. “Might also crave me.”

“Crave you?” Molly’s crying stalled.

“Crave me entirely,” he answered lowly. “Mentally, physically
—without
my influence.” Her eyes fell to his torso, past his crotch, and down the lengths of his legs.

“Okay, fine,” she said, nodding and scooting up on the bed.

He went with her, laying on her left and lifting his finger to her mouth. Her eyes aligned with his and she carefully swirled her tongue over the pad of his thumb, trembling as the coppery blood absorbed into her gums. She exhaled heavily when she pulled away.

The desire still existed in his eyes, in his touch. When his fingers grazed her thigh, she grew hot, flustered, and let out a tiny gasp.

“You’re blushing,” he whispered, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“You do that to me most of the time,” she said, voice velvety. Black and white dots filtered through her vision.

A dark smile appeared. “Can’t say I’m sorry about it.”

“But—it’s not real.”

A deep frown dug grooves into the planes of his face. “What?”

“My feelings for you…”

He swallowed thickly as if nervous to speak. “After the time in your bedroom, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that to you again.”

She felt dizzy, loose, out of control. Images of the room swirled. His hand grabbed the back of her neck, laying her down on the comfy feather pillows.

“Tensley.” She breathed through weak lips. Her body jerked, shivering uncontrollably as she grasped his thick bicep. “What’s happening?”

“My blood’s overpowering theirs.”

She trembled violently, and her eyes grew heavy. “Tensley?”

He stroked strands of blonde flyaways from her eyes. “Yes?”

“Your brother died?”

His touch grew stiff. “The person he was before did.” Her droopy eyes still managed to register his pained expression before closing. “Fallen destroyed the man he was. He ripped his heart out and left him with no morals, no values. A heartless demon.”

She hummed in response. “You’re not heartless, right?”

“I should be.”

WHEN MOLLY WOKE
in Tensley’s bed, she immediately noticed his chest rising and falling beside her. She reached out and tentatively skimmed the white scars across Tensley’s lower shoulder, drawing closer to his warmth. After a minute, he stilled, and a rumble began deep in his chest.

She didn’t stop, however.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered against his skin.

His back muscles flexed.

“I’m sorry about what I did to you. I’m sorry about betraying your trust.” Her voice was soft, and she wondered if he could even hear her. “I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.”

She laid her palm flat against the white scars and shut her eyes. She felt light and safe and she didn’t want to leave his side. When he shifted, her hand fell, and she fluttered her lashes open to find him giving her a stoic look, a look of uncertainty.

“How did you get these scars?” Her thumb brushed his shoulder, edging close to his defined blade. She wanted to smile when she felt his body shiver from her simple touch.

“My brother.” His hoarse voice startled her, and her thumb stopped rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

“Your brother did that to you?”

“He was heartless, truly, by that point.” While her chin wobbled, his remained rigid. “I learned not to get in his way.” He wet his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Tensley,” she told him softly.

After a beat of silence, he huffed. “You’re staring.”

She rubbed her finger around his shoulder again, and bit her bottom lip when his body responded with tremors. “Thank you.”

His dark eyes swung to look at her. “For what?”

“For coming back for me. For taking care of me.” She laid her head against his shoulder, gazing up at him. “Do you want me to talk to your brother? I don’t want him to hurt you again.”
God, it’s like I’m drunk.

“No!” he said, horrified. A crease formed between his brows. “I don’t want you near him. Only if I’m around, okay?”

She lifted a hand and gently smoothed out the crease on his forehead with a fingertip, smiling when his stone-hard expression gave way to a content one. “You’ll protect me?”

He stared directly into her eyes without fear, and he nodded.

“And I’ll protect you,” she told him.

A soft, beautiful smile spread across his face and she couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. Her laughter quieted as her eyes skimmed his bare chest and the happy trail that disappeared underneath the covers sitting low on his hips, displaying his defined Adonis belt.

“I really want to cuddle with you right now.”

She didn’t even blush at the words.
Definitely drunk off his blood.

Tensley, however, stilled, and his eyes traveled over her body. Her clothes were now twisted around her frame, defining her curves—her breasts, her hips, and her small waist.

He sighed. “My blood’s still battling theirs—that’s why you feel out of it.”

“Ooooh.” The giggling began again.

“Come here next to me,” he said softly. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed dreamily, hooking a leg around his. When she gazed down, she saw a tent under the covers and buried her face into his shoulder.

“Am I turning you on, Tensley Knight?” she purred.

He scoffed, a slow smirk sliding over his edible lips. “You don’t want to tempt me, sweetheart. I might just find a use for that smart mouth of yours.” He took hold of her chin, angling her face up to meet his dark, seductive look. “A very good use.”

She swallowed and bravely trailed her hand down his toned stomach, feeling him flex under her soft touch. Her hand slipped under the band of his sweats and nudged against his hard, hot member. He was huge, too thick for her dainty hand to completely hold him. She knew the basics of how to pleasure him from the stories of Stella and Tina’s sexcapades, but it was still nerve-racking. He grunted when her hand gripped the rigid shaft and pumped gently.

Is this right?

She breathed against his clenched jaw and began pressing kisses down his heaving torso, down his navel to the band of the sweats, her hand still stroking. “Molly,” he cautioned, his hand halting her. “Stop. You don’t have to.”

She stared at him, embarrassed. “Do you want me to stop?”

He swallowed thickly, staring at her. “No. Fuck no.”

She gently pulled his member from his sweats, and it sprung erect. He was massive—veiny, tan, and rigid. “No wonder you’re so cocky—no pun intended,” she muttered, hearing his stunted laugh—the first true, genuine laugh she’d ever heard from him.

“I’m cocky in every sense of the word.” He rested on his elbows, watching her small hand continuing to stroke his hot length, thumb slipping over his engorged head. When her hand slid close to the pulsing tip, he groaned and screwed his eyes shut. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me, Darling, and I don’t even give a fuck if I die with your hands on my cock.”

She smirked at the control she had over him.
The power.
With that thought, she leaned over, sweeping her hair to one side so he could still see as her lips pressed to his tip. He sucked in air fast and clenched his thighs. Her tongue swirled over the heated flesh, and he threw his head back, an arm stretched over his face.

“I’ve never done this,” she muttered.

His head shot up. “Then stop, Molly. I’m fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Her hand stalled. She wanted to take care of him.

Badly.

Her mouth swallowed the tip, and his hand shot out, gripping her shoulders. He half-murmured, half-hissed a warning to stop, but she didn’t. His hands rooted into her strands and she relaxed when she realized it wasn’t to stop her, but to guide her up and down his swollen member. She felt all the lines and bumps as she moved his length down her throat, humming periodically.

“Molly.” His hands gripped harder on her hair. “Look at me.”

Am I doing it wrong? Oh god!

Her eyes flickered up as she took more of his length in her mouth and the gag reflex kicked in. He cursed as her eyes aligned with his, swimming with lust. She didn’t stop her assault, taking as much as she could in her mouth and swirling her tongue. He groaned, a hand digging into the sheets beside him. His hips lifted, his legs clenched, and his member throbbed, pulsing on her tongue.

“Fuck,
stop,
stop or I’ll come in your mouth. Molly,” he said, hips moving faster. “
Molly—fuck, I’m coming!
”
He tried to move back, but she gripped his thighs and hummed once more.

His warmth filled her throat, stream after stream, hips jerking relentlessly until they grew slack and he collapsed down onto the bed.

She slowly sat up after swallowing the thick, warm fluid and pressed the back of her hand to her swollen lips. Her eyes flitted to Tensley’s soft, weak expression. Her cheeks warmed and her heart hammered fast. She couldn’t look at him.
Oh god, I was awful, wasn’t I?

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said breathlessly, but she saw how his body already radiated strength, even after the release.

From the intimacy?

He sat up, cupped her cheeks, and brushed her hair out of her face. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes met his soft ones, and she gingerly nodded in his hands. “I’m just sleepy now.”

He muttered softly in Italian, shaking his head as he looked over her features. “Damn it. That’d be my fault. I absorbed your energy too fast.”

She couldn’t even act shocked and closed her eyes. “Was I good?”

He laughed huskily and let his strong hands roam her face freely. She felt safe and warm and complete from his touch—like he was dropping all his boundaries and allowing himself to know her. “Too fucking good for a virgin. Jesus fucking Christ, Darling.”

She smiled and couldn’t help let her head droop into his hands.

“C’mon; sleep beside me.” He scooped her body into his arms and laid them down, curling her against his sweaty torso.

“Will you speak Italian for me? I like how your voice sounds…” she muttered, absent-mindedly stroking her fingers along his hard pec.

“Mm, mi sono infatuata di te.” His husky voice soothed her and she curled deeper into his body. His hot breath spanned across her cheekbone. “You want more?”

She cooed and nodded her head against his chest.

“Sei bellissima.” His calloused hand spread across her cheek and brushed through her hair and he gripped it. “Just one more, ciccia, all right?” He kissed her closed eyelid. “Ho un debole per te.”

She mulled over the words; foggy and sleepy, but she recognized the familiarity to Spanish. “Weak?”

He thumbed her heavy lip and shushed her. “Sleep, ciccia.”

She wanted to argue, but as his soft words hummed at her, she couldn’t resist. She hadn’t felt so warm and safe in ages and she didn’t want to waste it. Not for a moment.

THE SUN WOKE
Molly up the next time. She tensed, noting Tensley’s nearness with a frown. Sitting up was the worst of her ideas. Her head throbbed, and she poked her temples. Then she remembered what she’d done.

She glanced over her shoulder at Tensley, still sound asleep.

I did not give him a blowjob last night.

His dark mane was tossed wildly, and she found herself examining his thick, bee-stung lips.

Blinking through the haze, she crawled out of the sheets and stood in the beautiful, dark bedroom.

She noted the damp cloth on the side table and probed her own damp forehead.
Did he take care of me?
He shifted in bed and she straightened, holding in air. She couldn’t deny that heat filled her chest at the sight of him.

She liked him.
But I shouldn’t like him, right? Are my feelings real?

Then she realized the terrifying whispering, the violent taunting, was gone.

She laughed giddily and pressed the back of her hand to her smiling lips as she tiptoed to the bathroom. She examined her reflection in Tensley’s enormous mirror; she should’ve looked like a complete disaster after Cree, but the bruises and pain were completely gone.

One good thing about being engaged to a demon.

She turned on the shower and let the hot water scorch her flesh, still feeling unclean after the diviners’ torment.

After her toes and fingers were completely wrinkled, she tiptoed out and wrapped a towel around her body. She didn’t bother redoing her ponytail and peeked through the door. Tensley was no longer in the room, so she continued out, goose bumps rippling over her skin from the cooler temperature.

“You’re awake.”

Molly flinched at the sound of Tensley’s voice and blushed at the faint Italian accent.

I asked him to speak Italian to me. Ugh.

He stood in the doorway of his walk-in closet. “You look––” He hesitated, eyes lingering over her exposed legs. “Wet.”

“I just had a shower,” she said as softly as possible. She wiped her hair from her cheek and behind her ear, lowering her head.

He nodded and wandered into the room, eyes never leaving her. “You feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She rubbed the engagement ring, an awful habit.

He noticed the movement and stepped closer. “Vena amoris.”

“What?”

A weak smile formed on his sculpted lips, and he grabbed her hand. His finger rubbed across her engagement ring. “It’s Latin for ‘vein of love’. Traditionally, people thought a special, powerful vein ran from the fourth finger on the left hand”—his finger traced down her hand and up her arm—“directly to the heart.” It continued up to her collarbone to halt above the towel at the top of her breast. She was boneless. “It’s racing
.
”

She pressed both her hands to his chest, but he didn’t stop leaning forward. Her entire body shook in his embrace, shuddering from the feeling of him so close.

He ran the pad of his finger along her flesh. His thumb pressed to her bottom lip and gently, he opened it. She hesitated, gawking at his sexual, dark eyes.