My torn pants cling to my thighs like wet newspaper as I huddle in the passenger seat, one leg dangling out the open door. The parking garage's fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting everything in a sickly glow that makes the blood splattered across my chest look almost black. I keep my arms wrapped tight around my middle, trying to hold both my clothes and dignity together.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mutter under my breath, checking my phone for the hundredth time.
Maeve's voice had been ice cold when I called her. No comfort, no reassurance, just clipped questions and a command to stay put. Like I was going anywhere with a dead vampire hunter lying ten feet away, her blood still pooling beneath her corpse.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but that only makes the memories flash brighter behind my eyelids, her weight pinning me down, her fangs piercing my skin, the violation I couldn't stop.
"Stupid fucking bloody nose," I growl, wiping at my face for any lingering traces. The cursed thing that started this whole nightmare. If I hadn't been bleeding, maybe she wouldn't have noticed what was different about me.
The sound of footsteps echoes through the concrete structure. My head snaps up, heart hammering against my ribs.
Maeve emerges from the shadows like something from a nightmare, her tall frame draped in darkness, those crimson eyes blazing. She stops first at the corpse, looking down at the woman who just... who just raped me. Her expression gives nothing away as she studies the body, the stake still protruding from the hunter's chest.
Then those burning eyes turn to me, and I feel myself shrinking under her gaze.
"Come on," she says, her voice flat and hard as the concrete beneath us.
"I know you're mad, but…" I start, desperate to explain that this wasn't my fault, that I fought back, that I didn't want any of this.
"I said come on," she cuts me off, each word slicing through the air like a knife.
I stumble out of the car, clutching at my torn clothes as I make my way toward her. My legs feel like rubber, and I'm hyper-aware of how pathetic I must look.
Maeve doesn't offer help or comfort. She simply grabs my arm when I reach her, fingers digging into my bicep as she pulls me toward the elevator. Her touch isn't gentle, but there's something possessive in the way she holds me that makes me feel significantly more at ease.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding that feels obscenely normal after everything that just happened. Maeve keeps her iron grip on my arm as she drags me inside, jabbing at the penthouse button with enough force to crack the plastic. The doors close, sealing us in together.
"Maeve, I swear I didn't…"
"Don't talk," she snaps, her voice like a whip crack in the confined space.
I swallow the rest of my explanation and focus on not collapsing. My legs are shaking so badly I have to lean against the wall for support. The elevator climbs faster than seems possible, numbers blinking by in a blur until we reach the top floor.
The doors slide open to reveal the penthouse I barely remember from yesterday. The massive space stretches before us, all sleek furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Boston's glittering nightscape. At the touch of a button, black curtains begin descending over those windows, mechanical whirs filling the silence between us.
Maeve pulls me across the open living area toward the hallway and then into her bedroom.
She pushes open the double doors with one hand, never releasing her grip on me with the other. The bedroom is exactly as we left it this morning, sheets still rumpled from our bodies, my clothes from yesterday folded neatly on a chair.
Without warning, Maeve shoves me toward another doorway, the bathroom, with enough force that I stumble, barely catching myself on the marble countertop. The light flickers on automatically, illuminating a space bigger than my old apartment's living room.
"Stand still," she commands.
I freeze, my back rigid against the cold marble counter. Maeve's eyes are burning into me, her fury radiating in waves that make the air feel electrically charged. Without a word, she reaches for me, her movements sharp and precise as she tears at my clothes. The ruined fabric gives way easily under her strength, shredded pieces falling to the floor like confetti at the world's most depressing party.
"Get in the shower," she commands, her voice like ice.
I step into the massive glass enclosure, my hands shaking as I fumble with the controls. Water cascades from the ceiling, instantly steaming hot against my skin. I let it pour over me.
The water stings the bite marks on my neck, a physical reminder of what happened. I scrub at my skin frantically, desperate to wash away any trace of the hunter's touch. No matter how hard I scrape my nails across my flesh, I still feel dirty, violated.
Minutes pass, and I realize Maeve hasn't followed me in. Maybe she's too disgusted with me.
Just as I've resigned myself to being alone, the shower door slides open. Maeve steps in, completely naked, her towering frame blocking the light from the bathroom. She's like a goddess carved from marble.
She stares at me, her crimson eyes unreadable. I can't take the silence anymore.
"I know you're angry, Maeve..."
In a flash, she's on me. Her hand wraps around my throat, pushing me back until my spine hits the cold tile wall. Her grip is firm but controlled, not cutting off my air completely. Hand on my throat feels like home.
"Speak only the truth," she says, her voice low and dangerous.
Something shifts inside me at her words, like a lock clicking open. I feel a strange compulsion settling over me, an inability to even consider lying.
"Okay," I whisper.
"You liked it, didn't you?" Maeve hisses, her face inches from mine, water streaming between us. "Being used by someone other than me?"
The accusation hits me like a slap. My mouth opens before my brain can catch up, words pouring out raw and unfiltered.
"I fucking hated it! Are you serious right now?" My voice cracks with emotion. "I just got attacked and raped in a parking garage. I knew you'd be the type to hear I got assaulted and somehow make it my fault. It was awful"
Maeve's grip on my throat loosens slightly, her eyes widening with something that looks almost like confusion. The fury doesn't leave her face entirely, but it shifts, transforms into something more complex.
"That's... the actual truth?" she asks, searching my face like she's trying to read something written there in invisible ink.
"Yes," I rasp, my voice tight against her hand.
Her eyes lock with mine for what feels like eternity, searching, assessing. Then something changes in her expression. The fury doesn't disappear, but it redirects. Her grip on my throat tightens suddenly, fingers digging into my skin with exquisite precision.
And god help me, despite everything that just happened, despite the trauma still fresh in my mind, my body responds instantly. Blood rushes south so fast I get lightheaded, my cock hardening against her thigh.
"You belong to me," she growls, her voice vibrating through her fingertips into my throat. "Only me."
I nod frantically, as much as her grip allows. "I know. That's what I'm saying, Maeve." The pressure on my windpipe intensifies, making speech difficult. "I'm locked in hard!" I choke out, meaning it in every possible way.
She stares at me for another moment, then suddenly releases her hold. I slide down the shower wall a few inches, gasping for air.
"You're an exhausting pet," she says, shaking her head. There's something almost fond in her tone now. "It's not even fun to be mad at you."
I manage a weak smile, rubbing my throat. "I'm just gonna get worse the longer we date."
But she's not listening to me anymore. Her eyes have fixed on my neck, on the puncture wounds left by the hunter. She moves closer, stalking toward me with predatory grace, water cascading down her perfect body.
"Enough," she says, her voice dropping to that dangerous purr that makes my skin prickle. "I need to override that feeble half-blooded mongrel's attempt to claim you."
Before I can respond, she's on me again, her mouth finding my neck. But instead of biting down in one place, she's moving, her fangs delicately piercing my skin in different spots. First the left side of my throat, then my shoulder, then just above my collarbone.
"Jesus," I gasp as waves of pleasure crash through me with each new bite.
It's crazy, this sensation, so different from the violation in the garage. This is pure bliss pulsing through my veins, making my knees buckle. Each tiny puncture sends a fresh surge of euphoria radiating outward.
"Fuck," I moan, my hands finding purchase on her wet shoulders.
She's methodical, opening up little holes all over my chest and neck, drinking briefly from each one before moving to create another. The dual sensations of sharp pain followed by overwhelming pleasure turn me into putty in her hands. My head falls back against the tile, eyes rolling as she works her way across my body like an artist.
My legs give out completely, and I'm barely aware of Maeve catching me before I collapse. The world blurs around me as she lifts me effortlessly, carrying me through the steam-filled bathroom. The cool air of the bedroom hits my wet skin, sending goosebumps racing across my flesh.
I blink, and suddenly I'm on the bed, sprawled across silk sheets that stick to my damp body. Maeve hovers above me, her wet hair forming a dark curtain around us as she lowers her head to my chest. Her tongue traces each tiny puncture she's made, lapping up the droplets of blood that continue to well from the wounds.
"Fuck, Maeve," I gasp, my back arching off the bed.
The sensation is overwhelming, her cool tongue against my heated skin, the gentle suction as she cleans each bite mark. It's possessive, primal, like she's reclaiming territory.
I reach for her hand, desperate for some connection beyond this animal claiming. She slaps it away without even looking up, continuing her methodical cleaning of my wounds.
"Please," I whisper, reaching for her again despite the rejection.
This time she pauses, fixing me with those livid crimson eyes. There's irritation there, but something else too, a flicker of understanding. After a moment's hesitation, she interlaces her fingers with mine, squeezing with surprising gentleness.
The small gesture hits me harder than I expected. I cling to it, to her, like she's the only solid thing in a world that's spinning out of control.
Without breaking our handhold, Maeve shifts her position, swinging one long leg over my hips to straddle me. The weight of her feels perfect, grounding me to this moment, to her. She's still wet from the shower, droplets falling from her hair onto my chest as she looks down at me.
"Is this what my pet wants?" she purrs, reaching between us with her free hand to guide my cock to her entrance. She teases me there, rubbing the head against her slick folds but not allowing me inside.
"Yes," I breathe, squeezing her hand tighter.
She slams down onto me with such force that I gasp, my entire body jolting with the impact. Each thrust is punishing, claiming, erasing every trace of what happened in that garage.
I whimper, the sound escaping my throat before I can stop it. My free hand clutches desperately at her back, feeling the supernatural strength coiled beneath her perfect skin.
"You are such a needy pet," she growls, her crimson eyes blazing down at me as she rides me mercilessly.
I can't deny it. I am needy for her, for this connection. I pull her down to me, capturing her mouth with mine. Our tongues collide, dancing together in a frantic rhythm that matches our bodies.
"But we're perfect for each other," I gasp against her lips, meaning every word.
The growl that rumbles through her chest vibrates against mine, primal and claiming. She pulls back just enough to fix me with those burning eyes.
"You get away with this one time," she snarls, her hips never slowing their punishing pace. "If you ever get claimed by another vampire again, I'll make you very sorry."
I nod frantically, my eyes locked with hers as our tongues continue their desperate dance.
"Thank you, Maeve," I whisper against her mouth.
She leans in close to my ear, her breath cool against my skin. "If you truly want to thank me, Vincent..." she whispers, her voice taking on that hypnotic quality again, "then cum in me. Now."
The command hits me like a freight train. My body responds instantly, bypassing my brain entirely. I feel the pressure building at the base of my spine, rushing forward with unstoppable force. My back arches off the bed as every muscle in my body tightens at once.
"FUCK!" I scream, my voice breaking as I explode inside her. The pleasure is so intense it borders on pain, radiating from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Maeve throws her head back, screaming alongside me as her body convulses around mine. Her inner walls clamp down with supernatural strength, milking every last drop from me. Our voices echo off the walls, a chaotic duet of ecstasy.
Through my haze, I see her smile. It's triumphant, possessive, and absolutely terrifying in its beauty. Her eyes glow as she watches me come apart beneath her.
"That's it," she purrs, grinding down against me as the aftershocks roll through both our bodies. "Every drop belongs to me."
I collapse back against the pillows, chest heaving, completely wrung out.
She rolls off me in a fluid motion, the loss of her weight immediately making me feel unmoored. I reach for her, not willing to break our connection just yet. To my surprise, she allows me to pull her against my side, her cool skin a balm against my overheated body.
We lie together in silence for several minutes. Maeve shifts beside me, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at my face.
"You know," she says, tracing one cool finger along my jaw, "I'm going to have to have Emily research how the hell we can put a stop to your bloody noses."
I blink up at her, surprised by this sudden shift in conversation. "You think there's a cure?"
Her lips curve into that predatory smile I already love so much, her fangs just visible beneath her upper lip. "There better be," she says with absolute certainty, as if the universe wouldn't dare defy her. "I refuse to let your special blood attract every half-rate vampire in Boston."