Afterglow (Monsters of Moonvale #2)

Chapter 33

33

I t’s late by the time I’ve wrung every ounce of pleasure I can out of Grace. She’s smiling and sated, melted into a puddle on the bed as I kiss the bite on the top of her breast before finally forcing myself to pull back. There’s a deep yearning in my gut to lie down next to her and hold her as she drifts off to sleep, but if I stay any longer, I’ll risk not making it home before sunrise.

“I have to go,” I whisper, stroking her arm because I can’t seem to stop touching her.

“I know,” she sighs, giving me a sweet, sad smile as I trace the bite on her forearm, one of many that I scattered across her supple body. Arousal thrums inside me that some of them are already bruising her skin, since I didn’t immediately heal the wounds. Grace looks so fucking good covered in my bites.

“I don’t want to,” I add, though I’m sure that’s evident from the way I can’t will myself to get off the bed.

“I know,” Grace says again, threading her fingers through mine and giving my hand a squeeze.

“I’ll call you as soon as I wake up tomorrow night. I don’t know how long the pain relief from my blood will last, and I worry we were… overzealous after seeing the immediate effects.”

Grace nods, pushing herself up to sit beside me on the edge of the bed. “It was worth it. Even if I’m in pain later, I’ll at least have had the chance to enjoy tonight with you.”

“I would’ve been happy just to take care of you. You know that, right?” I ask. I grimace as I remember the ingredients for dinner still sitting in her refrigerator. “Shit, you didn’t eat. You must be starving!”

“I ate plenty.” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

“You did, but my pussy isn’t a replacement for a meal,” I deadpan, and she giggles. I glance at my phone to check the time. “Do you like eggs? I’ll make you something quick before I go. Tomorrow night I can come over and make what I’d planned—shit, wait, no. I have work… I’ll cancel.”

“Don’t cancel!” Grace protests. “I’ll be fine on my own, and I’ll make sure to use up the stuff you brought, so it doesn’t go to waste. Your work is more important than cooking me dinner.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s debatable.”

She laughs and shakes her head at me. “Seriously. You’ve worked hard to get to the place you are with your job. You have clients that…rely on you.” A soft flush raises on her cheeks. “I know it would ruin my week if I thought I’d get to have a scene with you, and then it got canceled at the last minute. You should’ve seen how mu ch I cried when I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you tonight because of my stupid neck. Don’t make those poor men cry, Blair. At least not in a way they won’t enjoy.”

Even though she’s joking, I can tell she’s earnest. We haven’t broached the subject of what I do for work and how she feels about it. If it bothers her, me dominating people who aren’t her when we’re…

Fuck, we haven’t even talked about what exactly this is between us. My stomach twists, but I shove that concern aside. It’s far too late to bring up that weighty subject now.

Still, a part of me needs to know what she thinks of my job before I fall too deep into this… thing between us. “You don’t mind that I’ll be with someone else?”

“Honestly?” Grace asks, and I nod, the knot in my stomach twisting tighter. “I thought it would weird me out more than it does. After being with someone who cheated on me for over a year while I obliviously assumed things between us were fine, it should bother me to know you’re spending your nights with other people, right?”

“There’s no should or shouldn’t, Grace. They’re your feelings, and whatever they are, they’re valid. Though, I’d be remiss to not remind you that what I do with clients isn’t romantic or arousing for me. I get satisfaction from it, but it’s work.”

“That’s what makes it feel okay,” she says, her tone thoughtful. “Plus, you’re fucking incredible at what you do. It’s weird… but I kinda like the thought of you going out there and domming the shit out of your clients. It makes me wish I could be a fly on the wall and see how they bend to your will.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise, and I scan her face to see if she’s being sincere. Voyeurism definitely wasn’t on her list of kinks. “You’d want to watch me? ”

Her cheeks flush even darker at my scrutiny. “Uh, yeah. It’d be sexy. Seeing what you’re doing to someone else and knowing how it feels to be under your control…” She clears her throat and lets out a breathy laugh. “If you hadn’t looked like you were going to murder me and it wasn’t with the guy who was supposed to be on a date with me, that night at The Vault watching you tie someone up would’ve been really hot.”

“Oh yeah?” I stroke my fingers across the bite on her thigh, savoring the way she subtly parts her legs to invite more of my touch.

“Y-yeah. I mean, it’s like anything else where I’d have to try it to find out, but in theory… yeah.”

I need to stop touching her. If I don’t stop, I’m going to bury my face between her thighs again and end up having to spend the day trapped in her closet because I didn’t make it home in time to not get burned to a crisp by the sun. “Some of my clients would love the chance to be watched by a goddess like you,” I murmur.

It’s an intriguing thought, bringing Grace with me to observe a scene with a client. She’d get to witness some kinks we haven’t explored yet, and it’s absolutely true that many of my clients would leap at the chance to be dominated in front of a beautiful, unobtainable woman. Still, the possessive part of me doesn’t want to share her like that, at least not so soon after I’ve finally had her in my arms. And definitely not while things are so nebulous between us.

“I’m not sure if any of them have earned that privilege yet, though,” I say, forcing myself to remove my hand from her thigh while I’m still capable of rational, non-lust fogged thoughts.

“That’s okay,” Grace says with an easy smile. “I’m happy the way things are. More than happy.” Her expression flickers, and a moment later a look of horror replaces her smile. “Shit, I hope you don’t think I want to watch because this isn’t enough. That I need to see dicks in order to be happy. This is more than enough! This is the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

Warm affection swells in my chest at her worry, and I kiss her. It’s brief and a lot less than I’d like to do to show her what her words mean to me, but it’ll have to do for now. “Same.”

I want to tell Grace that being with her is a revelation. That I’ve slept with dozens of people, dominated many more, and no one has come close to making me feel the way she does. That I don’t think anyone else ever will. Instead, I settle for kissing her again and hoping she can feel it through my lips.

Work keeps me busier than I’d like over the next few weeks, but I do as Grace asked and keep the sessions I’d already booked. She’s right. I owe my clients the courtesy of showing up for them, even if I’d rather spend the time somewhere else. Although, I’ve started easing many of my regulars into the idea that I won’t have as much availability going forward, whittling my future schedule down so that I have more free time.

Some of my clients complain, and I take them off my schedule entirely. I’m not playing games with that nonsense, and have plenty of others who are happy to take what I can give them. Nic sees right through me when tell him I’ll only be available to see him once a month for the foreseeable future, his eyes going watery as he congratulates me for finding something special that will require extra time off work, and asking if he can give me a hug. I refuse him, of course, but that doesn’t stop the fluttering feelings from bursting forth inside me at the concept that I have something to care about outside of my job .

Those damn flutters seem to be a daily occurrence lately, but I’ve stopped trying to fight them. The time I have to spend with Grace feels precious with my packed schedule, and it’s a waste to use it on freaking out about what we’re doing together. For the first time since I was turned, I loosen the reins on my self-control, and see what it’s like to not constantly consider the consequences of my actions.

When I’m with Grace, I take my stoic mask off completely. I smile brighter, laugh more freely, and make my insatiable hunger for her abundantly clear. I let myself fulfill Mona’s “prophecy” when we get together to watch the season premiere of In the Stars, even knowing how much more prying into my relationship with Grace that will invite from Mona.

Living like this, without trying to control and restrain my emotions, is intoxicating. My blood might help Grace with her chronic pain, but she gives me life .

But like everything else in my wretched existence, that delusion of happiness comes crashing down.

It’s early in the evening, only an hour after I’ve woken up for the night, and I’m buzzing with excitement because my client texted to cancel our session tonight. I know for a fact Grace doesn’t have any plans other than pretending that she’s going to do her laundry instead of playing that ridiculous vampire dating sim on her phone that she downloaded as a joke, but became obsessed with. Her current running joke is complaining that I never do any fun vampire things like kidnap her and keep her chained in my lair, duel a rival werewolf gang to win her, or use a compulsion to make her in my thrall.

I’ve planned a scene where we can roleplay that first one, and I’m grinning as I finish arranging for her to come over to my “lair” tonight, when there’s a firm rap on the front door .

I glare toward the offending noise, mentally willing whoever is there to go away. Solicitors are always coming over here despite my many signs warning them off. Too bad I can’t put one up that says “beware of vampire who drains the blood of trespassers.”

There are two more sharp knocks in quick succession, and I set my phone down with a disgruntled sigh. Why can’t anyone get the message to leave me alone? I force my fangs to retract and head to the door, yanking it open with a scowl.

My menacing look falters as I see who is on the other side.

They laugh and roll their eyes at my posturing. “ Finally. I thought maybe you’d died in there.”