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I gave up and blew out a breath, putting my hair up in a sloppy bun before heading into the oversized closet. As I walked through, every shelf I passed lit up. A large, round white bench sat in the center of the room. Shoes, ranging from sneakers to heels, covered the back wall. I reached out, running my fingers along the various pieces of clothing hanging from the double-stacked racks. A sad smile touched my lips, remembering why Samkiel had made this room.
A vampire prince who had pretended to care about me, and a man I had thought was my friend. The glossy room changed to the stupid, overly lavish room in the brick mansion. I could see Drake striding in as if he belonged there. I saw myself like I was now as he moved through the clothes, talking to me like he cared. Liar. Traitor. The entire time, he knew what he was doing. They had already decided to betray me, yet he had looked me in the eye and told me I was family. I saw myself standing there, believing every word that dropped from his lying lips.
“I was a good friend,” I snapped to his memory. “You weren’t a good friend, but I was. I will not feel guilty about that. I won’t.” The memory shifted as Samkiel appeared behind the other version of me. The ghost of Drake stiffened, and I understood like I hadn’t before. Drake wasn’t just scared of Samkiel, even though the image of him towering over me made even me pause. No, he was worried because I had someone who would protect me no matter what. I had not seen it then, but I saw it now. Pride filled me because to fall under Samkiel’s protection was something to be proud of. A soft smile curved my lips, something warm and sweet replacing the pain I had felt. Samkiel had always been there, a shield and protector, whether or not I had thought I needed it.
The memory faded, but the smile stayed on my face as I crawled into bed. The lights dimmed until they turned off. I rolled toward the window, watching the hem of the long curtains dance against the floor. I stayed like that for a while, but sleep never came. A thousand and one thoughts raced through my mind, all of them leading back to Samkiel. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours before I sighed and kicked the covers off.
He had helped me so much, even when I was a complete dick. He was still helping me. The words he said and how he backed them up with his actions woke something in me I’d buried the second she died. I felt. I felt things like happiness, guilt, and even regret. That had to mean something, right?
A banging started on that locked door, making my head throb. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.
My arms hit the bed. The empty cold bed. When was the last time I had sex? Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. Why our time together, the dream, and the heated glance this morning had need scraping over every nerve-ending and set my blood to boiling. No, it was those damn council garbs. That’s what it was. They fit his powerful shoulders and tapered to his waist, and I knew the chiseled muscles they hid.
“No,” I said to the empty room. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t go there.”
Samkiel’s hand had brushed mine and set a thousand nerve endings on fire. I hadn’t felt that in so damn long.
“Nope, Dianna. We’re not doing this.”
I flipped onto my stomach, covering my head with a pillow, trying to hide from the naughty thoughts plaguing my brain. It didn’t help. I remembered every flirty comment and every heated glance, my mind eagerly supplying the memories.
The bed was too empty, the smell of him lingering. I missed him and hated that he distracted me without doing a damned thing.
I flipped onto my back, the silk of my nightgown tangling around my legs. It was too hot, too constricting. I sat up, gathering the silk material at my hips and ripping it over my head before throwing it onto the floor. My underwear went next. They were the small, lacy ones that Samkiel knew I liked. Fuck. I fell back onto the bed.
The curtains over the window were partly open, allowing the opaque moonlight to drip inside. A tingle of excitement shivered through me at the thought Samkiel might pass by and see me. A slight breeze blew into the room, nipping at my heated flesh, and I moaned, pretending it was his touch. My eyes dared to close, images from Chasin playing in my head. The memory of how he’d held me, how his hand had dipped between my legs, how purely amazing it felt, made my core tighten.
I thought about Samkiel. I always thought about Samkiel. Even when I lied and said I didn’t. Samkiel was important to me, and if I was honest with myself, I only craved his touch. My breathing quickened as I imagined the feel of his powerful arms wrapping around me. How the heavy, sleek muscles of his chest and abdomen had clenched when I took him into my mouth. The v-line of his oblique muscles pointed toward his thick cock. A shudder ran through me as I finally allowed myself to think of him again. It was nearly a relief to admit I wanted him.
My hand slid slowly down my neck, picturing him above me, tracing the path I wanted his mouth to take. I cupped my breast, rubbing my nipples, pleasure shooting through me as they tightened to aching points. Would he always be gentle, or was there another side of Samkiel he would show me once he had me like this? The thought thrilled me. I trailed my hand lower, past the planes of my stomach. My fingers brushed my clit, and my breath hitched, my thighs falling open. I knew the words he would say, knew them with a fiery passion.
Are you deprived, my Dianna?
Oh, yes. Gods, yes, I was.
My hips lifted, my fingers circling my clit. I’d barely touched myself, and just the thought of him had me dripping. I pictured his mouth in place of my fingers, his silver eyes watching me as his tongue circled at the sensitive entrance before teasing over the small sensitive bud of my clit. My moan felt torn from my soul as I slipped two fingers deep into the tight, wet heat of my pussy and curled them. I moved them faster, whimpering and biting at the pillow next to me, his pillow. I ground the palm of my hand against my clit, Samkiel’s scent filling my lungs with every breath. My other hand cupped my breast, squeezing at one nipple and then the other. My small cry of pleasure broke the silence, and I didn’t care who heard.
Oh, gods. My pussy clenched, the slick, tight walls fluttering around my fingers. I writhed, imagining his cock filling me, reaching for that release. I had been so unsatisfied since him. No matter who I took or what I did, it felt nowhere close to being with him. I hadn’t even fucked him yet, and I was a mess. Gods, I wanted him so badly. I wanted him between my legs, in my mouth, everywhere I could take him. And I would take him until he was a breathless, sweating mess beneath me.
The image of him panting and begging beneath me flooded my brain and almost sent me over the edge. I moved my fingers deeper and faster, picturing his hands grabbing my hips, those silver rings digging into my skin as I rode him harder. I slipped another finger in, trying to mimic what he would feel like. My pussy quivered, the burn of the stretch exquisite. I remembered the dirty words he’d whispered when he discovered how much I enjoyed hearing them, and another wave of pleasure burst in my core. My hips thrust up, and my head slammed against the pillow. I remembered the deep huskiness of his voice, picturing how much he could take before I made him come, and then the look on his face, his pleasure. I wanted him to call my name while buried so far in me that—
My body shook as I came so hard and fast that I nearly wept. My fingers stilled inside me, rubbing my clit, squeezing every last bit of pleasure from my orgasm. I panted, my body trembling. I bit at the pillowcase, trying to muffle my cries. It was the first real orgasm I’d had in months. The first one I had since the last time Samkiel touched me. All I did was picture his face, mouth, those rippling muscles, and those filthy fucking words. I groaned, another orgasm ripping through me. My legs shook along with my body, every nerve ending on fire. I was a sweaty, breathless mess as I came down from the high. My chest heaving, I clamped my hands over my aching sex. I lay there, shocked, staring up at the ceiling. It was good, but not enough. I still ached, my body demanding the real thing, not the mock attempt.
I didn’t know how long I lay there before I got up and took another shower. I changed clothes, changed the sheets, and finally crawled back into bed.
Samkiel didn’t come back.
Sixty-Five
Dianna
Bright morning sunlight poured into the room, nearly blinding me as I awoke. I groaned and rolled out of bed, stopping in the bathroom before padding downstairs on bare feet. I headed through the foyer and into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“You finally came?”
I tripped over the long ends of my pajama bottoms, practically stumbling into the kitchen.
Samkiel.
