The wildness of it was her undoing.
Or maybe it was watching Jonas sink his fangs into the small of her wrist, followed by the further swelling and jerking of his flesh inside her. Knowing he was close to finding unimaginable pleasure after a lifetime of going without. His body stiffened at the same time as hers, his mouth released her wrist and fingers clutched at skin eagerly, pulling one another’s bodies closer any way they could.
Molten heat poured inside of Ginny, mixing magically, addictively with her own release and she found herself flattened on the mattress, beneath a vampire in the throes—and it was a sight she would remember for the rest of her life. His blind eyes and exposed fangs, his thrown back head. His repeated groan of her name.
“Ginny. Fuuuuck.” He lunged for her mouth as if he was scared what might happen if he didn’t kiss her. “You feel so good. It feels so good.”
When he collapsed a moment later, she’d never been more thankful for his beating heart because she could hear it rioting out of control, matching her tempo perfectly, and she loved him so much just then, tears clogged her throat.
He lifted his head, concern a living thing on his face. “Are you hurt?”
“No, Dreamboat,” she managed between shallow breaths, allowing him to draw her protectively into his side. “No, I’m perfect.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” he said hoarsely into her neck, breathing her in like he was already starved for another course of her. “Are you satisfied, mate?”
“Yes. So very yes.”
His relieved exhale stirred her hair. “While you sleep tonight, I’ll try to come up with the adequate words to describe what we did, if those words exist.” He wrapped her tightly in his embrace, tucking her head beneath his chin, his heart pounding wildly in her ear. “For now…suffice it to say, you are magic. My God, Ginny. You are…my magic.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ginny had never been afraid while inside the dream.
This time, however, she trembled while walking along the path on the outskirts of the fair. The funhouse sounds were distorted now and she could feel the sweat clinging to her palms, trickling down her rigid spine.
He was under the tree. The man in the newsboy cap and suspenders. More than ever, she desperately wanted to reach him. There was an urgency to be with him that had only been present in lighter shades before. Now, she picked up her skirt to run in his direction. Get to him by any means possible.
“Don’t,” he mouthed, stiffening and separating from the tree. “Please don’t—”
The crimson hooded figure moved in her periphery and she broke into a sprint, desperate to reach the man beneath the tree. If she could just reach him, no harm would come to her. His protectiveness was somehow a given. It was understood, though they’d never even had a conversation. The closer she came to reaching him, the more the ominous presence dragged her back, making it impossible to run as fast as needed.
The wind whipped his hat off and for the first time, she saw the face of the man who waited for her night after night beneath the tree.
“Jonas,” she whispered, extending her hand, knowing he’d take it if he could.
Somehow she’d already known it was him that waited, hadn’t she?
Yes. Of course. She’d always known.
Everything went silent.
Silent and…vast.
Still dreaming, but she couldn’t see.
Could only feel the breeze slithering around her bare legs, uneven ground beneath her feet. And Lord, she was cold. A shiver caught her in its grip and wouldn’t let go, her teeth chattering. Her hands lifted to her face and found a blindfold there, across her eyes. Who had put it there?
Where was Jonas?
She whimpered his name as she drew off the blindfold, the air vacating her lungs in a terrified gasp. There was no time to prepare or find her balance. She teetered on the tiny outcropping protruding from the side of the cliff and slipped, falling down…down to the rocks below, her screams ripping in the wind behind her.
Ginny braced for impact that never came.
It never came, but she was blind again. Back on that unsteady ground, the air endless and noisy around her. Noisy. That was different. She couldn’t be back on the cliff. Not wanting to startle herself into falling a second time, she slowly reached up and drew off the blindfold—and trapped a scream of horror in her throat.
Tears scalded her eyes, her knees shaking violently.
“No, no, no, no,” she sobbed, her lips numb from shock.
A body of water spread out in front of her, seemingly going on for miles, dotted intermittently by boats. And they were so small. Lord, they were so small, meaning she was extremely high up. Traffic rushed behind her. Wind thrashed and tangled her hair. Land to her right and left. Bridge. She was on a bridge.