Literally, in this case, because at that moment we fell completely off the bed. That had definitely not happened before. Thank you, small-town motel rooms.
"Sarah—" His voice was hoarse against my lips. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
I suddenly felt warm. Really warm. And not just because my world was being rocked. I wouldn't have noticed the sensation at all, if I hadn't already been in tune to it from feeling the same way on the dance floor. I nuzzled Thierry's neck and licked the side of his throat.
It made him groan.
"The witch…" I murmured.
"What about her?"
"She said something about… about hurting you because I'd gone to the prom with the guy she had the hots for."
His hands slid from my breasts down to grasp the backs of my thighs to bring me even closer to him. "And?"
I sank my fangs into the side of his neck.
"Sarah… stop…" But his tone wasn't terribly persuasive. In fact, it sounded more like an encouragement to continue.
Besides, I couldn't stop. I don't think I could have even if I'd been thinking clearly. All I could think about was the smell of him (good), the feel of him making love to me (very good), and the taste of him on my lips (very, very good).
After a couple of minutes, though, he clamped his hands on my upper arms and with effort managed to pull away from me.
The room was dark but I could see him clearly. My eyesight was one of the things that had improved since becoming a vampire, but this was even better than normal. Definite night vision. All the color was gone but it was a crisp black and white as if the moon shone directly above the room.
Frowning, Thierry brushed his fingers against the wound on the side of his neck. I watched as the fang marks grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared completely. I could heal well, but not like this. Thierry healed like a champ.
I was certain he was going to be angry with me and say cross things, but he simply stared down at me.
"Are you well?" he asked after a moment.
Was I well? What a strange question. I was well. I was damn well. I don't think I'd ever been so well in my entire life, as a matter of fact.
"Do I look well to you?" I asked, and my voice sounded very odd. It had this strange, sultry thing going on.
His gaze lowered to take me in and, in the position I was currently in, there was a lot to take. I was certain he was able to see me as well as I could see him. His eyes flicked back to my face. "You do. But that was not normal behavior for you, Sarah. I'm worried what this means."
"What it means…" I sat up and slithered closer to him so that our lips were only an inch apart. "Is that you make me lose my mind. Your touch, your kiss, your body, it's all I can think about."
His gaze darkened. "Is that so?"
"Yes. And I know you feel the same way about me. That's why you want the annulment."
I heard the words leave my mouth. It was strange. It was as if I was watching from a long way away. As if this was a movie of some much more confident person with my face.
"You want me. You can barely contain yourself when you're around me. You want to do very bad things to me."
His breath hitched as I pulled him closer and flattened my breasts against his hard chest.
"I don't know what you mean," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. My mouth was so close to his I might as well have been kissing him.
"Oh, I think you do. Don't you remember? A night not that long ago? The taste of my blood drove you insane with need."
His brows drew together. "That was a horrific mistake."
"Was it?"
"I nearly killed you that night."
I smiled and traced his face with my hands and brushed my mouth over his in a brief kiss.
"But you didn't. I'm fine. I'm here, with you. Do you think I would have stayed with a man who I thought would kill me?"
"Sarah," he breathed. "You're not yourself right now."
"Of course I am." I kissed him and slid my tongue into his mouth searching for his until I found it. For all his protests, he didn't stop me and instead kissed me back. Very hard. I smiled against his lips.
I reached around and moved my dark hair away from my neck. "Bite me, Thierry. Sink your fangs into me and drink as much as you like. I want you to taste me."
I heard a low growl and it made my body ache with desire. He brushed his mouth against my throat. "Don't make me do this, Sarah."
"I'm not making you do anything. You want to."
"Yes, I want to. But—"
I pressed my throat against his mouth. "Lose control, Thierry. Lose that control you hold so closely to you. It's the only thing with the power to keep us apart."
His heart beat as rapidly as mine had earlier in the bathroom. "What did she do to you?"
That was a very good question. Even as I wrapped myself around Thierry's body like a slutty anaconda, begging for him to bite my neck, I was asking myself the very same thing.
The last time he'd bit me it had almost killed me. The moment he'd tasted blood he'd lost his control, his center, that I knew he worked so hard to maintain. I was trying to make him do something he didn't want to do, even though a part of him was screaming inside for him to do it I knew it. I could feel it. I could taste it.
He grabbed my wrists and pushed me down onto my back on the questionably clean motel carpeting and crushed his face against my neck.
Most of me was ecstatic that I was having this effect on him, breaking down all of those annoying barriers of his. But a very small piece of me was screaming inside to stop him before it was too late.
The larger part of me told the other part to shut the hell up and stop being a total party pooper.
He pulled away a little and I could see that his silver eyes had changed to black. He searched my face, perhaps for some sign that I wanted him to stop. When he saw no red flags, he lowered his face again and his teeth grazed my throat just over my pulse.
His fangs begin to penetrate my skin, a small but exquisite pain, but then he stopped as if frozen in place. He pushed back and stared down at me and began shaking his head slowly. There was a look on his face that I don't think I'd ever seen before. I'd seen blankness. I'd seen anger. I'd seen concern and I'd seen passion.