Black Sunshine: A Dark Vampire Romance

Inside are a pair of drop earrings and a matching necklace on a delicate chain. Blood red rubies sit amongst burnished silver. The beauty of the stones takes my breath away. For a moment, it feels like I’m being wooed by some wealthy gentleman, instead of what this all really is.

“I thought vampires couldn’t wear silver,” I say after a moment, not wanting to fawn over them.

“Don’t believe everything you read,” he says. Then he hands me the box, leaving the earrings to me while he takes out the necklace.

“Burma rubies,” he says in a low voice that makes me shiver as he comes behind me. With his presence at my back, my neck exposed, I’m on high alert. “Very, very rare. Pigeon blood is the color.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“I’d say macabre. And beautiful. Now you realize how some things in this world can be both.”

I swallow as he gently places the necklace around my neck, the ruby sitting below my collarbone. There’s a feeling of warmth from the back of the jewel, like it’s connecting to my skin and fusing with it. I have to wonder at the magic of stones and where he got this, if it means anything, if it’s doing anything.

His hands go to the back of my neck, and I feel his unblinking eyes burn into me, more of those sparks alighting my skin, alternating between flames and ice. He fastens the necklace and I hear a low sigh from his mouth, as if there’s some sort of relief.

Then he runs his palms over my shoulders, smooth skin skimming over mine, until he grips my upper arms.

I hold my breath, feeling his face come closer, his nose brushing over the back of my head. He inhales sharply, a sensation that causes goosebumps to prickle down my entire body, his nose moving behind my ear.

He’s smelling me.

I can hardly stay still, but his grip is strong, and my pulse is going wild, and I’m not sure if I want to flee, or fight…or fuck.

“So much fear,” he breathes into my neck, and my eyes roll back into my head. “Alongside so much desire.”

“You’re compelling me,” I say, but the tremor in my voice betrays me.

He slowly breathes out, causing my knees to buckle.

“I’m not,” he murmurs. “This is just you, reacting to me.” His mouth brushes against the back of my ear, unravelling me further. “This is how it will always be.”

I swallow hard. “Then perhaps it’s for the best that you’re selling me.”

He stiffens, nails digging into my skin, just for a moment. “Perhaps,” he says, the word falling cold and clear.

Then he places his lips below the necklace clasp, kissing me right on top of my spine.

I gasp, my heart thumping deeply against my ribs, my eyes opening wide as a jolt of pleasure throttles me. The jewelry box slides out of my hands and onto the carpet.

Fuck.

A gentle kiss on the back of my neck, and it’s ripping me apart like an orgasm would, making me come alive against my will.

I feel his lips part against my skin, and for a horrifying moment I think he’s going to sink his teeth in, but then I realize he’s smiling. “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look, did I?” He pulls back and my skin goes numb from where his lips just were.

I don’t even have the words to speak, my blood is throbbing hard, in my head, in my chest, everywhere. Heat blooms, erasing any cold.

He lets go of me and swiftly crouches down to pick up the jewelry box, standing up again in such a way that screams supernatural. Sometimes there’s a liquidness to his movements, like he’s made entirely of silk.

He opens the box and takes out the earrings, appraising me, eyes checking my chin, my nose, my brows. Finally they settle on my eyes, staring at me in that intense unblinking way of his. “Do you feel beautiful?” he asks.

I shake my head, licking my lips, tasting the nude lipstick I’m wearing. “Does the lamb feel beautiful before it’s led to slaughter?”

That brings a crooked smile out of him as he takes one of the earrings and comes at my ear with it.

I inhale sharply, my skin going tight. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone else put earrings in my ears for me, but here he is, eyeing me calmly, doing this like he’s done it a million times.

“Regardless of how you feel,” he says, his voice low as he holds the post against my earlobe. “These rubies are worth millions. So don’t lose them, whatever you do.”

I open my mouth in shock seconds before he adds, “This might hurt.”

Then he stabs the post in through my earlobe and I’m crying out in pain.

“There,” he says, quickly fastening the back of the post in. I feel wetness, smell my own blood as it drips from my ear onto my shoulder.