Chapter Nineteen
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The fever in body wasn't going away. It was as if that fire within me was manifesting into a physical entity, heating my blood at a time when I couldn't fight it away. Even as the wound on my chest began healing more and more, the heat only increased. It was as though the flames were the essence of my magic, demanding compensation for its efforts. But I didn't know what it wanted.
Whatever it was, a new pain was beginning to rise within me. It was similar to being hungry, except it tinged my skin with needles as well. I tightened my grip on the sheets around me, whimpering helplessly. I felt like I was being slow-roasted and if I stayed over the flame for too long, I'd become burned remains.
A cool cloth was being pressed against my forehead, but it didn't offer me relief. Oliver was there, his presence even more tangled and messy than before. When I opened my eyes briefly, I could see the pressure he was under because of me.
Oliver hadn't stayed with me this long when I had been his before. Even now, he was restraining himself from touching me. He was being something he wasn't used to being: careful. He didn't trust himself and he never had before. But as my eyes found his form, I knew this would be a problem.
I needed him to touch me. My skin was singed with need. My instinct was demanding his touch. This was the compensation I desired. It was as if I truly did feed off of the warming glow that was in their touch. The longer I went without it, the more I felt the fire within me would swallow me before snuffing out entirely.
"Oliver," I whimpered, my voice like sandpaper rubbing together.
"It's okay. I'm here," He answered softly, holding the cool cloth against my skin with concern. "I wish I could just heal you with my blood." The words sent information through my thoughts briefly. Vampire blood, much like witch blood, had healing qualities. Only blood from a vampire was more potent than witches, probably because a vampire would be much less likely to share that ability. But because they were previously witches, vampire blood never worked on witches. Even in that aspect, the witches rejected those that have been exiled.
"I need you," I whispered helplessly, trying to call his touch to me.
"I'll take care of you," Oliver responded, dabbing at my face determinedly. When he moved to dip the cloth into a bowl of iced water, I reached up and stopped him. My hand clasped weakly around his wrist, the touch of his flesh against mine lighting up on my skin dully. Oliver stiffened, refusing to move for a moment.
"I need you," I repeated weakly, "Please touch me."
Oliver abruptly pulled away, standing a few steps away from me. I let my hand fall beside me, wincing as the flames licked at me with angry neglect. Oliver watched me for a moment, his hands tightened into fists. I closed my eyes in pain, looking away so that he wouldn't be subjected to it.
Oliver walked around to the other side of the bed, pulling off his shirt in one swift moment. Then he crawled onto the bed next to me, reaching out to abruptly pull me against him. The sudden heat of his touch over the length of my body was like a jolt of lightning through me. I whimpered, momentarily overwhelmed, but he didn't pull away.
After the initial shock, I relaxed under the warmth that had drastically changed from pain to content pleasure. I shifted against Oliver, causing him to stiffen further, but I continued until every surface of my flesh I could manage was touching him. And then I snuggled my face into his chest comfortably, sighing with relief.
"Thank you," I breathed before drifting into a more peaceful sleep.
When I awoke, my fever had dissipated and the pain of my healing wound was nothing more than that of a minor bruise. As I blinked the sleep from my eyes, my sight met Oliver's resting face only inches from mine. I was tangled loosely in his relaxed grasp, the glow of his touch lightly pulsing over my skin where his met mine.
I watched his features with great interest. It was the first time I had been allowed to sleep in his arms and it felt like a gift of immense value. I recalled the woman from the party, Delilah, as she had mentioned being one of his lovers. Had she ever felt this flourishing warmth that now budded within my heart while watching his sleeping face close to hers? Had he ever held her so comfortably and made her feel this safe?
The monster in me turned green at the thought.
I squirmed in Oliver's grasp, causing him to stir slightly. He pulled me closer to him, his eyes still comfortably closed, and leaned his face forward as if to use me as his own pillow. I tilted my head back partially, allowing it if only because my heart wouldn't stop singing at his proximity.
Oliver leaned into me, shifting me so that he could properly nuzzle against my chest just over my mostly healed wound. He absently took a long, deep breath. And then he froze. The change in his body, from utterly relaxed to sharp marble, was startling. If he had been a cat, I could imagine the fur along his body bristling dangerously. As it was, every muscle in his body had tensed impossibly and I was caged against him.
My breath shortened in response, wondering what it was that had disturbed him so. When I shifted slightly, his grip around me became impossibly firmer. A terrible growl vibrated throughout him, dangerous and animalistic.
"Don't move, Katia," He warned me roughly, his words thick around his tongue like a human speaking through the mouth of a wolf.
"What's wron-," I began to ask, but I was distracted when he moved dangerously against me. His mouth trailed over my previous wound carefully, sending sparks of heat throughout me. I suddenly wasn't concerned at all. If anything, my body trembled with intense anticipation.
"You smell... so good," Oliver muttered against my flesh, a growl following his words as if he were threatening himself. Or rather; fighting himself. I understood then what bothered him. I'd seen his hunger before. I saw the way he followed his prey on that rooftop, the look of a predator cloaking his features. He'd been caught unaware in his sleep and now he aimed to remove me as his target.
I, on the other hand, was fighting my own battle. Within me, I had my own animal. Only I had grown to recognize that this was the magic within me or perhaps what the magic meant for me to be; the phoenix. This instinct in me awakened under Oliver's intention, a positively thriving energy of anticipation that begged me to throw myself into the fire.
I fought it. I stiffened, refusing to move further as Oliver struggled to convince himself to let me go. He tried to hold his breath, but instead found his lips over the flesh of my shoulder in response. I held my own breath, resisting the urge to pull him into me. He moved his hands from my body to the surface of the bed, trying to untangle himself from me. In return, his mouth opened, his tongue tasting my skin greedily.
I lost my battle. I moaned quietly, aiming to arch my throat towards him. When I realized this, I countered my instinct and instead stifled my moan. Then just as quickly as I could, I desperately tried to remove myself from Oliver, intensely struggling to escape.
Oliver's growl changed from that of restraint to sudden vicious pleasure. He had lost, too. Suddenly, I was pinned under him. Instead of protecting myself, I bared my throat to him vulnerably. He didn't hesitate to take my offer. I cried out as I felt the shock of his fangs in my shoulder, the steel of his grip holding me against him, and the sudden vibrant ecstasy that resulted.
How long had Oliver gone without feeding? The last time he had buried his fangs into me, he had participated in a family dinner not too long before. He had only fed a moment from me then. Now, he fed greedily as if half-mad from starvation.
Before I could even begin to lose more blood than I could regenerate, Oliver abruptly pulled away. He had gained enough of his senses to control his animal instinct. I couldn't say the same about myself. I squirmed under him desperately, my skin beaming from his touch. My heart throbbed wildly in my chest, excited from the danger.
"I'm sorry," Oliver panted, his tone pained. "I never think things through, do I?" He closed his eyes for a moment and then pushed himself further away from me. I waited until my dazed senses would focus enough for me to be able to sit up. When I reached for the bite wound on my shoulder, I felt wet blood but no pain. I had already stopped bleeding.
Oliver was sitting back on his knees, looking away at nothing in the distance. I could see an aura of dark anger around him; a despair that weighted his shoulders heavily. I frowned at him, the pleasure of his touch beginning to fade from my skin.
"Don't be upset, Oliver. You've fed from me before," I told him reassuringly.
"That was different. It was to save you," He responded, his voice dark. He looked from the distance down to his hands, his mood darkening even further. "You trusted me and I betrayed you. I hurt you when I was supposed to take care of you. I took from you without asking. You struggled to get away..." He growled furiously.
"Oliver," I approached him carefully and he tensed.
"Don't come near me, Katia," Oliver ordered sharply, this side of him so unlike the man I knew. He shifted, preparing to run away as he had usually done before. For a moment, I felt at a loss. And then I had my own ideas. Before he could attempt an escape, I narrowed my eyes dangerously.
"Don't you dare leave," I snapped at him, causing him to hesitate. "You fed from me. Don't think you can get just... get away with it." Oliver suddenly looked lost. I was saying the words he expected.
"You want to make it up to me?" I asked him coolly. For a moment, he watched me cautiously, but then he nodded slowly. This done, I approached him once again. Oliver froze, but didn't attempt to escape as he had before. I wondered if he thought I would try to take revenge by harming him in some way. I lifted my lips to his ear and ordered simply, "Don't move, Oliver."
I sat back, watching his reaction for a moment. He had become strangely quiet and still, the emotion hidden from his features. But still, he hadn't moved away and so he intended to take whatever punishment I had for him.
I looked at his body slowly. A heat was rising once again in my veins; my heart rate rising excitedly. I reached forward carefully, any pretense of anger dissipating from me the moment my fingertips touched his solid flesh. I traced his skin curiously, trailing over this familiar body carefully.
After a moment, I leaned forward to lightly trace his skin with a kiss. Oliver huffed momentarily, causing a sly smile to cross my lips. I brushed my kisses across his chest slowly. When I reached his shoulder, I darted my tongue out to taste his skin curiously. Oliver shook abruptly, cursing violently under his breath. I rolled my eyes to his, seeing that hunger in his face once again, and then I bit down on his shoulder sharply.
"You minx," Oliver growled, snatching my arms and pulling me flushed against him. I gasped with surprise, but his features were alight with amusement. He was nothing if not completely delighted by my deviance. "You little devil. You've been sent by Hell itself to drag me down with you, haven't you?"
"I'm in love with you," I told him, my voice high and breathless.
"That's a terrible idea," He responded, though I had clearly struck a chord within him. He released my arms and instead grasped my face in his hands. His onyx eyes watched me for a moment and then he smiled most deviously. "But I do love terrible ideas."
Oliver's lips were suddenly wild against mine, overwhelming and dominating. I gasped as his hands splayed across my flesh, heat following his every touch. My own hands clawed at him, demanding more from him. I felt as if I had entered a whole new battle, only this was one of mischievous delight rather than purely dangerous. I dug my nails into Oliver's flesh unexpectedly, causing him to send a snarl between our kiss.
Oliver pinned me roughly against the bed, pulling at my remaining clothes impatiently. I squirmed unhelpfully under him, purposely making the task harder for him. And when I struggled just enough, he hesitated uncertainly, giving me an opening to move my hips suggestively against him. Oliver growled again, moving over me until he had me caged under him so that I couldn't fight against him further.
"You're playing with me, little demon," He declared, his voice thick with desire.
"Yes, I am," I answered breathlessly. He tightened his grip on me and I yelped with faked pain. He quickly released me in surprise and I giggled before I pounced. I wrapped my arms around Oliver's neck, capturing his lips with mine passionately. I let him remove my remaining clothing, but then I abruptly pulled his hair before aiming to escape.
Oliver cursed under his breath again, pleasing me to no end, and then he caught me before I could completely flee from the bed. He pinned my hands above my head and slid between my thighs dominatingly. I bucked under him ferociously, a part of me enjoying having him struggle to take me. He shifted determinedly, using one of his hands to keep mine captured and using the other to lock my hips in place.
I cried out as he pushed into me, all pretenses falling away under the sudden ecstasy that wracked my body. Oliver didn't pause. He rocked into me hungrily, wrapping his hand under my hips to lift me to him as if he couldn't go deep enough. I felt the pressure of the pleasure build rapidly around his hunger and couldn't take more than a couple of breaths before it erupted throughout me.
Even as my body pulsed with fire, Oliver continued to give himself to me. He was rough, his passion driving him wildly as if he had been deprived of any kind of love for thousands of years. I writhed under him desperately. Each breathless moan and every attempt to move under him only fed his desire, driving him further into me until I succumbed to the brilliant euphoria that spilled me over the edge again.
When I thought I could no longer stand it, that the heat burning within me was too overwhelmed and that I could never breathe properly again, Oliver broke his pace. He drove into me passionately one last time and then leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, panting above me.
Even after he released his grip on my hands, I didn't move. I closed my eyes, basking in the pleasure of his touch. When I did finally move, it was to place a hand along his jaw affectionately. He covered my hand with his, turning to kiss my palm adoringly.
"When I found you, I thought I'd make you mine, little devil," Oliver confessed thoughtfully, tracing his lips over my hand gently. "As it turns out, I'm all yours." I felt a heated flush rise on my skin at his words. Utter joy encased my soul and beyond that, my heart throbbed with a solid emotion that only got thicker the longer I stayed within the presence of Oliver and the others. It was complete, undying love.
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Music: Scars by Basement Jaxx feat Kelis, Meleka & Chipmunk
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