If this mage Apollo knows has some clothes to give me, I’ll forever be grateful. These leggings are great, but the shirt has to go. It’s ripped and begging to be thrown away.
Gripping the doorknob, my gaze falls on the shackles around my wrists. And to think I considered myself lucky they looked like pretty bracelets. I did think of keeping them. Pity they might blow up at any time. I look over my shoulder at the toilet. Would one of the boys have to dry me up if I lost my hands? Fuck, I don’t want them to live through that.
I leave through the door and circle my fingers around the bracelet, standing in the shadows. Don shoots me a look, then enters the bathroom, leaving Ren standing in front of me in silence. He says nothing as he races his fingers through my hair for a moment. Don leaves a minute later, jacket draped on his arm as he keeps to the shadows with me, and Ren enters the bathroom.
It’s both weird and comfortable to be alone with the vampire again.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks in that soft voice of his.
I don’t meet his gaze as I release a breath. “What’s the point of running so far, so fast? They know where we are. At all times. As long as you’re with me, you’re in danger, too.”
His fingers bury into my hair, not gently like Ren’s, but fierce. He tilts my head back, so I look up at him. Don furrows his brows. “We’re here because we want to,inamorata. We want to keep you safe.”
“Even if that kills you?” I shoot back.
“Even if that kills me.”
I shake my head, but his fingers don’t drop. “Nonsense. Complete bullshit, Don. You’ve lived for how long? Five hundred years?”
“Four.”
“Four hundred years. And you expect me to believe you’d put down your life for a girl you barely know?”
Don moves fast, his hands coming up and cupping my face in a desperate hold. It’s fierce, almost violent in his affection. His body comes closer, hovering over me, pressing against me, everywhere. I step away, confused, overwhelmed, and my back hugs the wall behind me, next to the bathroom door. Don crowds me, locking me between his body and the wall, his eyes on me, reading into my very soul.
It would be a lie to say I’m unaffected by his proximity because fuck, my girl parts are on fire.
“Don’t say that,” he whispers, and there’s freaking pain on his face. It takes me a second to remember what the hell did I just say that insulted him like this. “You have no idea what’s inside my heart,inamorata. Don’t judge me this quickly.”
I lick my lips, and his eyes chase the path of my tongue. “What does it mean?”
“What?”
“Inamorata. You used to call mebella. Why did it change?”
Don takes a deep breath, then his eyes transform. Red swirls in his pupils, and I know he caught a sniff of my arousal. Oops. Should have pressed my thighs together or something. This whole deal of living with people with super noses is so awkward sometimes.
I part my lips to tell him that if he didn’t want to smell my arousal, he shouldn’t be so damn hot, but Donatello ends the space between us, his hips digging into mine and his stomach gluing to my own, and then our lips collide. I could say he kisses me first, but his scent intoxicates me, and I’m not quite sure of my name by now.
Gods, I missed kissing him. It’s a beautiful struggle between gentle and sexy, as if he’s trying to be kind and exploratory, but gives up halfway to it and decides to fuck my mouth. The circle restarts. Sweet, then hot, then sweet again. My head spins, and I kiss him back as fiercely, lips sliding, tongues dancing, his taste making my pussy weep. I bring my hands to his hair, the jacket dropping back, making a soft sound as it hits the ground.
Don grips my hips and hauls me up against his lap in one easy motion. I lock my ankles behind his back, then bring him closer, his hard cock digging into the seam of my pants. I wiggle and squirm, trying to be sexy and seductive but just looking like a convulsing snake or something.
Do snakes convulse?
He drags me against his hardness, and every time my clit hits it, I cry out against his mouth. Wetness races from inside me, staining my pants, and I must be perfuming the entire town by now. I’m surprised Ren hasn’t jumped out of the bathroom yet. Pretty sure the second Apollo smells me, he’ll be running this way, asking why the hell wasn’t he invited. I bury my fingers into Don’s hair, devour his mouth for another long minute, moaning to the feeling of his body against mine and then I just remember.
I remember I should not be making out with the vampire who tried to take a bite out of me.
Even if Don’s so hot he could set fire to my pants, even if his kiss still makes me so wet, someone could drown between my legs, and even if I accept the argument about his maker... It’s too soon. I should not be doing this so soon, out of respect for the boys. At least out of respect for Apollo.
With regret filling my chest, I pull back, breaking the kiss. Donatello brings his lips down my jaw to my neck, and his fangs rake down my pulse, my skin, forcing goosebumps down my arms. I push him off, and this time he gets my meaning. He looks at me with those red eyes, panting with need. I squirm out of his hold, dropping on both my feet, adjusting my clothes. He stays there, unmoving, watchful.
“We shouldn’t,” I tell him, adding nothing more. Don’s always been good at understanding, at catching my meanings. I don’t need to explain. His chest still moves up and down when Ren leaves the bathroom.
The wolf shifter gapes at us for a moment, then he grins. “Shall we?” He offers his hand.
I intertwine our fingers and watch Don pick the jacket up from the ground. He drapes the jacket over his head, his face a perfect emptiness as we start back to the car. Ren brings me against his chest, kissing me on the head. Just like that, I know he spent longer in the bathroom than he needed to, just to give us space. Just because he knew we needed it.