Black Sunshine: A Dark Vampire Romance

“Oh, he’ll find a way,” I mutter.

“Being stubborn, is he?” she asks.

I nod. “The sex blew my mind, but I’m not sure it did the same to him.” I pause, something coming into my mind. “He can’t…get me pregnant, can he?”

She blinks at me. “You’re not on the pill?”

“I was. Until I was kidnapped.”

She gives me a quick smile. “I see. Well, if it were any other vampire I would say that yeah, you should be on birth control, even though your cycle is probably going to slow down to like once every four months. But Solon…”

“Is it because he wasn’t born one, that he was made a vampire?”

Her brows raise. “He told you about that?”

I nod. “I don’t know all that happened, but I know he used to be human.”

Her eyes search mine for a moment. “Yes. Vampires that are made can’t procreate. Thank god, really. They don’t all turn out like Solon.”

Then she reaches out and cups my boobs, adjusting them in the top, and I have to laugh at how handsy she is.

“Sorry,” she says, flashing me a sly smile. “They needed some adjusting. You have nice boobs, even luckier they’ll look like that for the rest of your life.”

I look down at my chest, the cleavage a focal point in this dress, the soft gauzy red layers falling away from it. I hadn’t even thought of that. Then again, thinking about my mortality now makes my head spin.

Just then, the scent of Absolon fills my nose and he appears in the doorway, eying the both of us with a flash of carnality.

“I was just leaving,” Amethyst says, taking her hands away from me and then quickly walking past Solon and into the hall. He watches her go, then closes the door behind him, and walks over to me, one black brow cocked up as if to ask, what was that about?

And while he’s looking me over, the tension between us growing thicker by the minute, I do the same to him. And fuck, he looks good. No suit today, he’s back in a tuxedo, the ends of his bowtie undone, his hair slicked back from his face, facial hair neatly trimmed.

We stare at each other for a moment, that air growing electric, then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out my necklace, the diamonds and ruby glinting in the slices of sunlight.

“Where did you get that?” I ask him.

He saunters over to me, and I’m suddenly so aware of how big he is, his presence powerful and commanding.

And mine.

God, I want him to be mine. It’s not enough to be his.

“I went to your hotel,” he says, stopping right in front of me, but there’s still too much distance between us. “Brought it back with a few other things you probably want.”

“Are you officially moving me in here?” I ask.

He lifts a shoulder, eyes burning into mine. “Thought it would be a nice thing to do.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

He then holds out the necklace for me.

I shake my head. “Put it on me, please.”

I watch him swallow, a tightness to his jaw.

Then he nods, pressing his lips together.

Comes around behind me.

Runs his fingers delicately along my shoulder, gathering my hair before sweeping it off to the side, his touch causing me to shiver. I take in a deep breath, breathing in his scent, which is now mixed with his adrenaline, hoping to calm my heart but it only makes it thud against my ribs.

“You’re scared,” I tell him, making him pause for a weighty moment as he reaches over and places the necklace around my neck. “What is it?”

I can hear his heartbeat.

“It’s you,” he murmurs, his cool fingers at the base of my neck. “I thought I was doing so well handling my cravings for you, but you’re out to test me.”

I can’t help but smile at that.

“I know you’re smiling,” he goes on, fastening the clasp. “But I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Then he leans in, his nose at the back of my head, breathing in deeply as he runs it down through my hair. He places his hands on my shoulders, squeezing hard between strong fingers, my skin tender underneath his palms.

I suck in my breath and his hands slide down, one hand brushing over my left breast, the other coasting over my stomach. Hot bursts of pleasure ignite in my core, making me squirm, this insatiable need for him kicking into high gear again.

“These sounds you make,” he says with a groan, his mouth kissing the top of my spine, “you can’t hear them, but I do. They aim to unravel me.”

“And what do you think your touch is doing?” I say breathlessly as his hand reaches down, down, starts gathering up the ends of my dress until his fingers make contact with my bare inner thigh.