Chapter 103 rated R

I roared awake like I was flying up a long, curving tunnel into the night, gulping for air like I actually needed it in my lungs, a howl mounting on my lips, ready to shatter the moonlight. But before I could get it out, softly clinging lips covered mine and a gently probing tongue found its way into my mouth. Bill murmured into my mouth, “I’m here, sweetheart. You are not alone.”

I couldn’t quite figure out where we were, but Bill was lying beside me, pressed close. I could just lift my leg over his waist, and without any preamble, he slid into me. I gave the tiniest moan of appreciation—this had to be the best alarm clock I’d ever had—and rocked my hips into him. We had just enough room to move almost completely apart, which we did, ever so slowly, so we wouldn’t bang into the walls—we seemed to be in a wooden box of some kind, and then I remembered: Bill had put a box under the floor of the closet in my house, so if he went to ground there, he had a small, clean space in which to sleep. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, but it was light proof and secure.

I began kissing him again, copying the slow, steady rhythm of his strokes, imitating him with my tongue. His fangs were out for me, and I scraped my tongue across them, bleeding a little into his mouth. He made a yummy-yummy noise and his rolling hips began speeding up. I pressed my hands against his hip bones, telling him from inside my head that slow was good—maddening, but good—and he relaxed back into a steady, pulsing stroke that made my breath (if I had any) catch in my throat.

I squeezed my arms up between us to wrap behind his head, sinking my fingers in his thick, silky hair, tugging a little because it made him wince. I worked my arms down his back, scraping my nails along his flawless skin, and again he flinched. Just as he pulled back on an exit stroke, I dug my fingers hard into his muscular butt and he jumped forward into me with a yelp, inadvertently biting my tongue and filling his mouth with my blood. A trickle came back into me and I tasted Bill tasting me tasting him. It set me on fire.

I began tilting my hips to his in earnest now. My own desire for him was threatening to take over my sanity, and in this small space, I didn’t have room to go berserk. But I started sliding on him like I remembered from childhood pony rides, bouncing a little at the end of each stroke to force him in one more tiny bit. His pelvic bone pressed me at precisely the right spot.

The pressure in my belly was like coal being crushed into diamonds. Every outward stroke of Bill’s tugged the skin around my quivering little nub and I was panting against Bill’s neck. As he felt my rising tide of lust and love about to wash over us, Bill opened his mouth on my neck. His fangs broke skin, and all those shiny diamonds tumbled out of me, lighting up the dark with colored jumbles of sparks. Bill sucked deep on the wound, thrust deep in me and came so hard I thought I felt it up around my heart.

As we both relaxed apart, but still connected in the narrowness of the space, Bill smoothed my hair back from my face and asked, “How did you sleep, darling?”

“Like the dead, “I joked, just to see him smile. I tried to stretch, and said, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay,” said my vampire, “I’ll take you out.”

I brushed his lips with mine. “Mmmmm, I’d like that. Can we have a shower first?”

I could see Bill’s eyes flame. “A shower?” his eyebrows went up—Bill knew what always happened in the shower. It turned out we both loved water play better than almost anything. The closest he ever came to teasing me was when he knew I was hurrying to work and he offered to scrub my back, knowing that was a guarantee I’d be late.

“Umhum. A long… hot… shower.”

Before I could blink, Bill had slithered from the box, knocked back the trapdoor that was the floor of the closet, and was standing at the top of the hidey-hole reaching down to help me up. I no longer needed that help, but it was a sweet old-fashioned gentlemanly thing for him to do, so I grasped his hand. It seemed Bill barely pulled, but I flew up and into his arms, the impact rocking him off balance a bit. I grinned at him and gave him a little shove. “You oaf!”

He bumped me with his chest like football fans do—somehow that gesture was too modern for my Civil War lieutenant—“Fairy!” he shot back.

This was a reference to my fae family, and I loved that he was playing with me, but just that one word brought back a rush of sadness so heavy and harsh that tears sprang into my eyes.

“Sookie?” Bill was all tenderness. “What is it?”

“Something happened. Something awful.”

“This is the sadness that brought me to you in the cemetery. I felt this in you that night, Why were you there?”

“I think I was hoping to see you. I missed you so much.”

He folded me in his cool, strong arms and I spoke into his chest. “Some days, when I missed our love, I would sit by your gravestone. It made me feel closer to you.”

Bill kissed the top of my head, “Oh Sookie,” he said into my hair, “I am so, so sorry. All the pain I caused you. I have hurt you beyond reason.”

Now I was crying in earnest. “Thank you. I never let you tell me that, but I always wanted to hear it. I’m sorry too—sorry for my… pride, “I choked on the word. “Sorry my damnable pride wouldn’t let me turn to you when I so wanted to.”

“I know.”

Some of my old fury at Bill sprung up unbidden like a bad habit. “You… KNEW?”

“Sookie.” Bill held my eyes with his, the way he always did when he wanted to be sure I was really listening to him. His fingers gently smoothed away my tears. “I had your blood. You had mine. I could feel you. Can you deny you felt me?”

I knew I had. “I didn’t want to feel you. I wouldn’t let myself feel you. But yes, I always did. You were always there, in the background of all my days and nights. It was sort of like a twin heartbeat.”

Bill’s brows went up in that skeptical look I’d seen so often—we had a long history of finding each other hard to believe. “A heartbeat?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “I don’t know what else to call it. It was like your heart was beating inside me, and it comforted me even when I pushed you away.”

“For that, I am glad,” Bill said.

“So,” I said, following a niggling thought, “you knew? You knew I’d come back to you?”

“Well, I hoped you would. But I know how stubborn you are. I knew if I told you that I could feel your love, it would drive you further away. So I waited. And hoped. And never stopped wanting you with me. Sophie-Anne’s order became my sincerest desire.”

Bill was referring to the Queen of Louisiana’s demand that he ingratiate himself to me, to coerce me into her service, where my talent could protect her and help her gain power over her enemies. She had died without binding me to her, but I had thought Bill’s love was false, a ploy to make me hers, when I had only wanted to be his.

With a jolt of understanding, I saw I had ultimately won. I was Bill’s, totally and completely and for all time. He had made me vampire and we would always be together. Without even knowing it, Sophie-Anne had also given me my heart’s desire.

I looked at Bill and saw that he could hear my thoughts as plainly as if I’d spoken them. His pupils dilated until his eyes were completely black and his love shone out of them like a beacon that would steer me to safety. Wordlessly, I told him that I finally understood. Wordlessly, I told him that I cherished him beyond sense, that I would do anything for him, that I would die for him as he had often said he would for me. I had never felt these things before, and I had thought I was incapable of feeling these things.

But Bill shook his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “I knew that too.”

With lightning fast speed, I grabbed a shoe off the floor and hurled it at him. He avoided it easily, and chuckled, before enfolding me again in his arms.

“But what is your terrible sadness?”

I sighed, then smiled up at him. “I will tell you, I promise. But not now. Let’s go eat.”

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