Undead and Unwelcome

Chapter 43

I got back to our suite just before dawn. As I passed through the rooms, I checked on BabyJon—sound asleep. Thank God he hadn’t been hurt—could never be hurt, at least by werewolves and vampires. He was mine. I wanted him to live forever.

Sinclair, with his usual brand of magic—or perhaps because he knew me so well—was waiting for me. I went to him without a word and hid my face against his shirt.

“Elizabeth, my own, my dear, shhhhh.”

“It’s all going wrong,” I cried, “and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“This is very unbecoming to the ball-​busting queen I married,” he said, trying to tease me into a smile.

“But I want to fix it!”

“You are young, my own.”

I sniffled and looked up into his black eyes. “So?”

“So some things—many things—cannot be fixed. These people will have to be satisfied with your sorrow. You cannot give them any more of yourself.”

“No, but I can give you more of myself.”

I went up on tiptoe to kiss him and his mouth pressed over mine, his tongue darting and stroking. I slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders as his fingers were busy with my blouse buttons.

In another few moments we were naked and falling on the bed together. I was clutching at him, kissing him wildly, biting him, drawing blood even as he was drawing mine.

His teeth slid into my jugular just as that other part of him slid between my legs. I crossed my ankles behind his back and returned every thrust, every nip, every kiss.

I took everything. And gave back what I could.

Sometimes, I figured, that’s all anyone can do, even if they are the queen of the vampires.

He held me for a long time, after.