and eventually, Becca’s death. But Shade knew she could have made reports, let more people know—like David—what had been happening at the apartment. But she had not. Shade had been too scared to get involved. Poor Becca was dead because Shade wanted to stay hidden and left alone. How would she ever live with herself knowing she hadn’t done enough to save them both? She laid her head down on her blankets just wishing that she had been a better person, been brave enough to save little Becca and Brent from what they’d had to endure.
Shade felt the stirring again, the sensual feelings she had had once before. It took her a few minutes to remember where she had felt it before. It was the man, the one she had dubbed “the wall.” He was nearing to where she was living, inside the building, she thought. She could feel his anger, at what or who, she didn’t know yet. But soon, when he got closer, she would know. The closer he got, the stronger his hatred for her got; it poured off of him in rivers and onto her, drowning out the sensual feelings until they were completely hidden. Shade was too shocked to be afraid. She just let him come closer and closer without trying to hide from him.
Shade was panting now, his anger so intense that she could barely breathe through it. Sweat began to gather on her forehead and stream down her face and between her breasts despite the coldness of the room. When he finally came to the doorway, she was soaking wet, her hair damp at the edges and around her face, her body bathed in his heat.
Before he had appeared to her, she had the feelings of a monster, a great monster there to tear her apart, to rip her in two; nothing could stop him. He was coming for her. When she saw him standing there and felt him reach to her, she realized that she was not far off. He was probably there to do just that—and she didn’t care as long as he touched her.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” she asked him, her voice raw with emotion. She knew now what he was, a vampire. Her first vampire, and he was a pissed off—at her.
“Let me in; invite me in,” he demanded of her. His voice was heavy and tight with built passion and anger. An anger so strong it was like a living, breathing thing to her.
He couldn’t cross her threshold, she realized. She had made the abandoned rooms hers so he was unable to breach the room to get to her—thankfully. And he needed to get to her to unleash whatever he had churning tightly though his body.
“No, I don’t think so. Not until you tell me what you want, how you found me, and why.”
Shade wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it suddenly seemed extremely important that he not touch her, that he never touched her. Along with the heat of his anger and hate, she could almost taste his desire, his need for sexual dominance over her. Something she was sure she would enjoy, but he would hurt her too. No, she thought, he couldn’t touch her; she couldn’t let him near her.
“You. I want you. I want to fuck you. And I will. Now. Tonight. Invite me in.”
Her body reacted to his words immediately. Reacted in a way she had never experienced before. Heat raced along her veins; her breasts tightened and her nipples hardened and peeked against her bra. Heat pooled between her legs, making her pussy swell with wetness and need.
She was frightened and eager at the same time. Frightened at what he would do to her once she gave him permission to enter, and once he was touching her physically. She could feel her juices weeping from her pussy, hot and sticky along her thighs. Panting hard, she tried to block him, but feared it was too late.
Suddenly, she felt his desire. A need washed over her in much the same way as his hatred had just minutes ago. She could feel his touch as though he was physically caressing her. He was running his fingers over her skin, her breasts, pulling at her nipples, stroking her thighs—she was on fire. Her whole body throbbed to life;
Shade felt the stirring again, the sensual feelings she had had once before. It took her a few minutes to remember where she had felt it before. It was the man, the one she had dubbed “the wall.” He was nearing to where she was living, inside the building, she thought. She could feel his anger, at what or who, she didn’t know yet. But soon, when he got closer, she would know. The closer he got, the stronger his hatred for her got; it poured off of him in rivers and onto her, drowning out the sensual feelings until they were completely hidden. Shade was too shocked to be afraid. She just let him come closer and closer without trying to hide from him.
Shade was panting now, his anger so intense that she could barely breathe through it. Sweat began to gather on her forehead and stream down her face and between her breasts despite the coldness of the room. When he finally came to the doorway, she was soaking wet, her hair damp at the edges and around her face, her body bathed in his heat.
Before he had appeared to her, she had the feelings of a monster, a great monster there to tear her apart, to rip her in two; nothing could stop him. He was coming for her. When she saw him standing there and felt him reach to her, she realized that she was not far off. He was probably there to do just that—and she didn’t care as long as he touched her.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” she asked him, her voice raw with emotion. She knew now what he was, a vampire. Her first vampire, and he was a pissed off—at her.
“Let me in; invite me in,” he demanded of her. His voice was heavy and tight with built passion and anger. An anger so strong it was like a living, breathing thing to her.
He couldn’t cross her threshold, she realized. She had made the abandoned rooms hers so he was unable to breach the room to get to her—thankfully. And he needed to get to her to unleash whatever he had churning tightly though his body.
“No, I don’t think so. Not until you tell me what you want, how you found me, and why.”
Shade wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it suddenly seemed extremely important that he not touch her, that he never touched her. Along with the heat of his anger and hate, she could almost taste his desire, his need for sexual dominance over her. Something she was sure she would enjoy, but he would hurt her too. No, she thought, he couldn’t touch her; she couldn’t let him near her.
“You. I want you. I want to fuck you. And I will. Now. Tonight. Invite me in.”
Her body reacted to his words immediately. Reacted in a way she had never experienced before. Heat raced along her veins; her breasts tightened and her nipples hardened and peeked against her bra. Heat pooled between her legs, making her pussy swell with wetness and need.
She was frightened and eager at the same time. Frightened at what he would do to her once she gave him permission to enter, and once he was touching her physically. She could feel her juices weeping from her pussy, hot and sticky along her thighs. Panting hard, she tried to block him, but feared it was too late.
Suddenly, she felt his desire. A need washed over her in much the same way as his hatred had just minutes ago. She could feel his touch as though he was physically caressing her. He was running his fingers over her skin, her breasts, pulling at her nipples, stroking her thighs—she was on fire. Her whole body throbbed to life;
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