Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

So many visions flashed before me. I was seeing a movie of all the times Peter had watched me over the years. I’d watched him, too, and had hoped it wasn’t one-sided. Now I saw proof that it wasn’t, and my heart was ready to explode.

There was another snippet, this one not too long ago. It was during Weapons and Self-Defence, that day when I’d first asked if he wanted to be sparring partners. He’d been so nervous when I approached him, trying to play it cool. I felt his desire when I’d taken him to the ground, how he fantasised about flipping us over and kissing me right there on the mat.

I didn’t want that particular part of what he was showing me to end, but reluctantly, I sensed Peter gently extricating me from his mind. I’d seen enough to know he wasn’t lying. His forehead was still against mine when I opened my eyes. “I don’t understand,” I said, my eyes searching his.

“I thought you were beautiful from the very first time I saw you,” Peter said, and warmth flooded my insides.

“Why didn’t you ever try to talk to me?” My voice was thick.

“Because of my father. Because of something as inconsequential as the last names we were born with.”

I lifted my hand and ran my fingers delicately along his jaw. “Did you have any clue that all those times you were watching me, I was watching you, too?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think you knew I existed.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen,” I confessed.

Peter blinked. “You have?”

I nodded. “I never tried to be your friend because I thought you hated me.”

He sighed, his forehead still against mine. “I could never hate you.” Something thickened between us, and I was so busy staring into his bottomless brown eyes that I didn’t realise he was going to kiss me until the second his lips met mine. I gasped as his arms circled my waist, pulling me flush against him. If I thought drinking Peter’s blood was an experience, it had nothing on kissing him. Kissing him was sweet ecstasy. It was the physical embodiment of the warmth and affection and desire I’d felt when he showed me inside his mind.

His lips moved against me, and I slid my tongue into his mouth, wanting more of his taste. Peter groaned, his arms like steel tightening around me. I settled into his lap, grinding myself against his hard-on while his hot tongue danced with mine, drinking me in.

The mix of my arousal and the emotions I felt from him confessing his love made me feel like I was high, too. Like I’d been bitten by some vampire, and the chemicals were rushing through my system, leaving me completely unencumbered by inhibition.

His hand skimmed the hem of my dress, then whispered along my inner thigh. His other hand ran up my spine, cupping the back of my neck as he deepened our kiss. I was breathless when we finally broke apart for air.

“I should take you back to Grace’s party,” he said, stroking his thumb back and forth over my cheek.

“I don’t want to go back yet.”

“What do you want to do?”

Emboldened by his blood and his declaration of love, I cupped his jaw and feathered my lips across his. “I want you to make love to me.”

16.

“Darya—”

“Please. I need you tonight,” I begged, and a rumbly groan emanated from deep in his chest.

I watched as a conflict warred behind his eyes. Finally, he said, “Stay right here.”

Gently, he lifted me from his lap and went to the storage room where he’d been sleeping. He returned a minute later with his backpack, a blanket, and some pillows. He unzipped the front compartment of the backpack before rummaging through it and pulling out a packet of condoms. Seeing them, I flushed, my cheeks heating, signifying my inexperience. I willed them to cool down, but it wasn’t like Peter wouldn’t discover the truth soon enough anyway.

“Sophia thinks I have a secret girlfriend because I wouldn’t tell her where I was going when I was with you.” He paused and rubbed the side of his neck. “She said it’s gentlemanly always to have protection available.” He seemed shy all of a sudden, and my heart melted a little.

“Seems smart,” I said as he picked up the blanket and pillows to lay them out on the floor. His hands moved as he whispered a spell and the blanket fluffed up. He motioned for me to lie down. I unzipped my boots before crawling off the bench. When I lay down on the blanket, it was as soft as a cloud. Peter went to the windows next, running his fingers along the glass and casting another spell. The glass shimmered, and my curiosity piqued.