Take Me (37 page)

Felicity finished brushing her hair from her morning shower and stared back at her reflection. She looked tired and rundown, not like a woman on the happiest day of her life. Tonight she’d become Mrs. Lady Blackmoore with her love, Dominic Blackmoore, and then tomorrow was election day. She, vampires, and
weres
from across the country would head to their local governing office to cast their vote for the next president of the council. Those who wanted radical changes were leaning towards the wild alpha Zeke and those wanting to stick to tradition were staying with Dominic. She may be biased, but she knew who she was voting for.

For the first time that morning she smiled, the muscles of her face tugging. It was a small one, bordering on sad, but it was there nevertheless.

He never came to bed last night.

He did say he had work to do. Probably more than she could even imagine. After all, what did she know about running for president? Not a thing. Attending one campaign ball did not a political savant make.

She didn’t sleep well without him. In fact, she’d barely slept at all. Call it nerves or anxiety but she’d been bursting with it all night long. Tossing, turning, she’d flitted about the bed until her feet hung off, her arms slung around at awkward angles, the comforter stuck between her thighs and still sleep never came. Finally, she’d given up on sleep and turned on the TV.

She’d found a late night/early morning B-movie in black and white about a teenaged boy who was learning Ninjutsu in order to get vengeance on a man who killed his family. It was a bad movie in that purposeful way, but that isn’t why she watched it. She watched it because, no matter how crazy it might make her look, she was studying Ninjutsu. She punched the air and, in her mind, performed wild kicks in mid-air with both of her legs while picturing Helena’s face taking the hit. Did she actually believe that any of this would help her come late tonight during the bonding ceremony--no. Not at all. But a girl had to hope.

Now she had to brave the day. She’d showered and dressed and still he hadn’t come back. A glance at the clock told her it was close to seven. According to the invitations originally made for Dominic and Julianna, the ceremony would start at ten tonight. And still he hadn’t showed.

The bonding between two vampires was a ritualistic affair. They shared oaths, claimed vows, exchanged blood, and then at the end came the part that made Felicity pace a trench across Dom’s bedroom. The vampire giving the ceremony, one specially trained in bonding ceremonies to recite the ancient bonding passages verbatim by memory, would then ask the audience if any man or woman would dare to challenge for the rights to the male or
bruid
. This part had Felicity a wee bit unsettled. While a bonding ceremony fight between two women—one who used to be Dominic’s
bruid
and one who wanted to be his
bruid
—might make a great video to watch online, it was not something Felicity wanted to participate in.

Was Helena’s threat simply that or did she mean to go through with it? Felicity supposed there was nothing left to do but wait out the next few hours and find out for herself. That is if she they were still to be bonded. Perhaps he’d ignore her up here and the night would pass with a quiet silence.

Felicity’s legs dug into the pacing until her muscles started to burn. Yes, that’s what she wanted. She needed something to release the frustration building inside her. Maybe if it was frustration she could handle it, but that wasn’t the only tumultuous emotion building inside her like a crescendo. No, frustration mixed with anger and nervousness made her stomach roll and her brow furrow. Fear and pain mixed together to create a nasty hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. All of those conflicting emotions made her one wild woman. She felt on edge as if at any moment she might blow.

A part of her wanted to stomp down those stairs, find Dominic, and demand an apology for how he treated her last night. That part wanted to give him a piece of her mind about how badly his words had hurt her.
It wasn’t my fault.
Right?

The other emotion, the one that kept her rooted to his blasted room held her in its clutches—fear. Fear of tonight, fear of the possibility of Helena’s challenge, fear that if she left this room to find him right now he wouldn’t see her. Fear that held her by the throat and would not let her go. She was not a victim of it, but a willing participant.

She froze. Some faraway sound hit her ears. Was that...footsteps? The sound became louder, grew clearer as whoever made those hard steps came closer to the bedroom door. A flicker of fear kept her frozen in place like a statue. Whoever came for her knew she could hear, made their steps loud enough to hear from a great distance. Felicity straightened her spine and prepared herself for whatever was coming for her.

The booming steps stopped right outside her door. Not even a moment later her door shoved open so hard it whacked against the door stopper behind it making the little metal spring
boing
. Startled, Felicity jumped, her hand flying to her throat.

A shadow filled the doorway. She inhaled an unsteady breath and at once warmth filled her blood like syrup.

“Dom,” she whispered.

As if answering her call, he strode into the bedroom, all tall man. He wore the same clothes from last night but he’d lost the suit jacket, he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal dark crisp hairs along his forearms, and his pants were rumpled. He looked fierce with his legs spread slightly apart, his hands held in loose fists at his sides, and those eyes...

Eyes that could make her melt, freeze, and aroused with only a look, stared at her with a vibrant, hungry need. A need so powerful her stomach trembled at the sight of it. He looked like a cage man who’d just been set free.

“Come here.”

Two words but they seemed to grab her by the throat and make her breath catch with how he said them. She didn’t nod, didn’t agree that she’d obey him, she just did because how could she not? When all she wanted was to be held in his arms again, to have his gentle kisses and possessive touch drive away her sleepless, worrisome night.

She went to him, and he stepped into her as if he couldn’t wait any longer. Their bodies met: chest to chest, thigh to thigh, or as close as they could meet with their height difference.

He cupped her jaw. That simple touch eased the knot of fear in her belly, sent her eyes fluttering shut.

“I need to tell you something.”

Simple words, straightforward words. She stiffened at them. Blood turned to ice. The hands on her face lost their comforting touch. She wished it’d come back because all she could feel was cold.

“Yes?” Maybe if she didn’t open her eyes she could pretend this wasn’t happening, that whatever terrible news he’d come to deliver would not hurt as much as she knew it would.

“Look at me.”

Her head shook before she could even say the words. “No.”

“Felicity.” His voice held a warning.

Don’t make me look you in the eyes when you crush me beneath your beautiful boot.
She opened her eyes. She met his stare. Hers miserable with sadness, his determined and unreadable. Those dark brown eyes searched over hers, reading her. Maybe because of the lack of sleep but Felicity found she didn’t have the energy to pretend happiness, so she didn’t.

His thumbs stroked along her jaw. He cursed low and dark, his grip tightening at whatever he found there. “Fel, I’m sorry. What I said last night—” he trailed off as he closed his eyes and rolled his neck. “I didn’t mean it. I was pissed but not at you and I took it out on you.” Those powerful eyes came back to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Forgive me?”

She read his eyes, studied them to judge his sincerity. Finding them true, she shrugged. He’d apologized but the hurt didn’t go away. “You were a dick.”

The thumbs stroking her stilled. “Yes, I was. I don’t know if it means anything but I’m under a lot of stress and I felt overwhelmed. I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Is that better? Am I forgiven?” His lips twitched as he stifled a laugh.

Her eyes narrowed in faux anger. “Maybe.”

That twitch turned into a full-blown laugh and the sound was too contagious not to echo. And like that, the jittery nerves that had been dancing inside her simply melted away. She didn’t know who moved first but she did know that she reached up to run her fingers in his hair. Their lips met.

Warm lips, soft as silk, and a lick of wetness as he pressed his tongue against her and then he slid inside and the kiss grew. Their breaths mingled, hands found each other and pulled their straining bodies closer. Warmth turned to drugging heat that filled her bones, her blood like need. It grew, sparked threads of pleasure that had been left unseen to the night before.

He kissed along her jaw, hot breaths beating against her before he kissed the sensitive skin at her neck, biting until the skin pulled tight. A soft moan escaped her as little erotic shards raced inside her. Two hard points pressed against her neck, a warning or maybe a signal of what he wanted to do. She craned her neck revealing the expanse of her neck to him needing him to bite her, wanting him to take from her and bring back that connection between them that seemed to make the world stop turning.

His tongue wetted her. He pressed his fangs back against her wet neck. She shivered like a naked woman standing outside on a cold night.

“Felicity,” he said, his voice no more than a growl.

The pressure began in her neck as he sunk those fangs in ever so slowly, so carefully. Centimeter by centimeter he bit down until his lips met her warm skin and his fangs fit into her throat.

It was at that moment his pocket rang, or, rather the phone in it. Just as slowly he pulled away as if hesitant to ruin the moment, but he did and it was shattered.

He answered the phone with a snarl. “What?”

She couldn’t hear the voice on the other line but she watched his eyes narrow and knew they’d not be going back to their special moment together. Nope. She would not be disappointed.
Then why did she feel like stomping her foot and pouting?
Felicity scolded herself.
Stop being so ridiculous.

He closed the phone with a snap, pocketed it. “Come on. It’s time to get ready.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door. “Ah, and one more thing.” In a flash of movement she barely saw, he had her back against the wall and his lips devastating hers.

If she was forced to describe the kiss she say it was hungry and hard, but even that did not begin to describe the kiss. He devoured her with his tongue and lips. He wrapped her in his arms and gave her no room for escape and as his teeth bit down on her bottom lip, he drank in all her little gasps and moans like an incubus demon feeding off her arousal.

Then it was over. She braced herself against the wall, blinking while trying to get bring her body back down to some semblance of calm.

His eyes searched her face. He nodded once then leaned down close, his eyes bright as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose and said, “You’re beautiful, sweets.”

Chapter 23

Time flew by so fast that Felicity resisted the urge to look behind her to find where it went. It seemed like only minutes ago she climbed out of Dom’s bed alone to pace his bedroom floor. Some god must be toying with her because now she stood inside a quiet room adjacent the large hall where more than one hundred people waited to see her mate with Dominic Blackmoore.

Where had the time gone? Where had she been for it all? She couldn’t have been present even though she knew she was. She went through the motions, played the part, but all day long it felt as though a piece of herself had left her.

The whole evening passed in a whirl. She hardly had time to sit down before Diane, Eduardo, or even Beth pushed her from one task to another. They chose last minute decorations details, which Felicity appreciated as it let her contribute her own taste into the ceremony.

Something did not sit right inside her, but she didn’t have time to sit and consider it because there was so much to do. Did she want this color or that color? Did she prefer the flute glasses smooth or engraved? This color or that. These flowers or those.

Such little details that if she had had the proper time to prepare her own ceremony as most women do she would already have picked out. Instead, she was going to a ceremony that originally was not for her. The thought shouldn’t matter, yet some strange, agitated feeling curled inside her and proceeded to grow as the day went on. This wasn’t her ceremony.

She’d been cleaned, styled, waxed, shaved, misted, and all around beautified. That still hadn’t been the end of it. Next came the process of picking out a dress. Things had been happening so fast lately that she hadn’t even thought about the one aspect of mating that most
bruids
took seriously—the dress.

The
bruid
would keep the dress forever. It was never worn again but the symbol, what it represented, was considered sacred.
Bruids
were supposed to wrap the dress up neatly, bind it, box it, and stuff it away in a place where it could never become damaged or tainted.

Felicity knew all this but she never once thought to pick out a dress. Fortunately for her, Diane and Beth had been conspiring behind her back. With Beth’s wisdom at the style of clothes Felicity liked, she and Diane had ordered a plethora of gowns. And really there were a
plethora
of gowns.

They pushed Felicity into a chair as Beth and Diane held up dress after dress for her perusal. She undertook the rather fun task of saying yes, no, or maybe to each dress. Before she knew it, they were down to twenty dresses. That was where everything got tricky, but she’d finally settled on the perfect dress. She hadn’t known it by looking at it. No, she had to feel the material draped against her bare skin before a special ping in her chest started to ache. Then she knew; it was the
one
.