Page 76 of Roses & Ruin

I whirl around, hand on my chest, to find Hayden frozen at the door, two glasses of water spilled across the carpet, a pile of papers strewn at his feet. His eyes are huge and unblinking as they take me in, his face and lips white.

He looks shattered.

I wait for him to say something. Anything. But he’s not even breathing. The only part of him moving is his eyes, running up and down my body, desperate and disbelieving.

My heart starts a low, anxious thrum of anticipation. I take one slow step toward him. Then another, reaching out.

“Hayden,” I whisper, standing before him, wanting desperately to touch him but too scared he’ll turn me away if I try.

“You look just like you did that day,” he croaks. “Our wedding day. You married me in that dress.” His voice fractures, and he gasps like a wounded animal, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says harshly. “I used to dream of this. When I lay on your grave, I imagined this exact thing. Walking into our bedroom and finding you here, like nothing had ever happened.”

“You can pretend,” I whisper, aching to reach out, put my lips anywhere on him. “You can pretend I’m her.”

Hayden’s head snaps up. His eyes are brilliant with tears, red rimmed, expression devastated. Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of me.

“Jesus, Rose, how many times do I have to say it?” Hayden looks up at me, pleading. “You. Are. Her.” He clasps my face in both his hands, pulls me down so our mouths are grazing each other. “I have never loved you more in my entire existence than I do at this exact moment.” He takes a breath. “And now this second.” He pauses again. “And this one. And this one, and—”

I close the distance, pressing my lips to his, and he makes a needy, broken sound, and I swallow it, wanting more.

“So beautiful,” he moans, licking my bottom lip. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Rose.” The tips of his fangs graze my tongue, and, in a surge of arousal, I grab his hands and put them on my breasts.

I suddenly find myself sprawled on my back on his bed, panting up at Hayden.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, his fangs gleaming in the firelight. He’s panting too, and his eyes are absolutely all pupil. “I’m…I’m sort of losing it here.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s almost always impossible to control myself with you, but seeing you in the dress just reminds me of all the stuff I wanted to do to you back then but couldn’t.”

It rises in me, that raw, reptilian instinct of desire that makes me say and do things I never knew I wanted.

“Do it,” I say, hardly knowing what I’m asking for. “Do the things you couldn’t.”

Hayden’s eyes shoot open, and he bares his fangs. He looks feral. Terrifying. My pulse skyrockets, and his nostrils flare, and I swear to god his fangs get sharper.

In a wild, invisible move, Hayden rips my dress open. My sleeves are still on, draping off my shoulders, the lily-white fabric spread across the bed beneath me. He drags his nose up the length of my neck, from my collarbone to my ears, and hums in satisfaction. I shiver and he pulls back to study me. His gaze is piercing, and all I can do is nod eagerly, arching up into him and urging him to continue. With one flick of his finger, he rips my corset down the middle, splitting the laced ribbon in half, baring my breasts. I gasp, everything tightening and blossoming under his starving gaze.

He drops his head to my chest, covering my right breast with his mouth.

“Oh god.” My back bends, a perfect, violent arch against his tongue. I lick my lips, my mouth running wild. “Hayden. Have you ever bitten me there? Drunk from me there?”

Hayden groans, his eyes snapping up to mine as his tongue continues to swirl deliciously around my nipple. With his next lick, I feel his fangs dig against my skin, dragging up my breast.

I’m afraid to breathe. Afraid his teeth are so sharp, one heartbeat too strong will press me that much closer to him, and that’ll be enough for his fangs to pierce me.

I want it to happen.

“Bite me there, Hayden,” I whisper. “Please?”

Hayden snarls viciously, low and anguished. His hips jerk, an involuntary twitch, and like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, he presses his face half an inch closer to my chest.

The tips of his fangs break my skin.

“Hayden.”

Hayden rips his head back, pushing up onto his elbows, eyes huge.

“Fuck. You okay? I didn’t even know—”

“That’s it? Can’t you do more?” I whine, writhing.

“No,” he snarls. “That was too much. Too close.”