"Are you sure we should be doing this? I mean, didn't you say earlier that it was too soon to explore this kind of relationship with me?" I ask, looking up at the man in front of me who has just gone from zero to sixty-nine in two seconds flat.

Elias's eyes are fixated on my neck as his fingers slowly lower the strap of my nightgown from my shoulder. His touch is so gentle, just as it was on the beach when he stopped me from leaving. But this time, his caress affects more than my ability to leave. I feel it everywhere—along the sensitive slope of my neck, the bumps of my spine, and between my legs.

"I need to know what you taste like," he says as though he is in a trance.

I sit all the way up, and for a split second, I realize I don't remember us returning to my room together. This man...being has consumed my every thought. I move to my hands and knees, closing the space between us as I crawl onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist much like I did the night he rescued me from the cemetery. Except this time, I'm not wearing anything under my nightgown, and I feel his very prominent bulge beneath his sweatpants.

On a deep, sharp inhale I say, "You can bite me anytime you want. I want to know what it feels like."

He groans in response to my offer and dips his head to the side of my neck. His breath is warm on my skin, coaxing goosebumps to appear and cover every inch of my skin. The ache at my core grows more intense as his lips trail over my pulse point. I press my hips down and roll them over him, cursing the soft fabric of his pants. My body craves the hard lines of his. I need them pressing into me, teasing the ache until I feel like my entire body will combust from the sensation.

I want Elias to make me come.

"Cordelia," he murmurs. "You know we shouldn't be doing this."

"What? But you said—" I insist, pulling back so I can see him, but when I do, I lose my grip on him, and I'm wrapped around nothing. My bed is empty.

"What the fuck?"

I shoot upright, my heart pounding, chest heaving. Looking around the room, I realize I've just been in a very realistic dream about Elias.

"What the actual fuck?" I mutter, still feeling the throbbing between my legs like I truly was on the brink of an orgasm.

And when I shift on the mattress to get up to go to the bathroom and feel a tell-tale dampness between my legs, I realize that I was.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I groan, flopping back down on the mattress and throwing the cover back over my head. What am I supposed to do now? Finish myself off? Damn, this is so cringy; waking up from a fucking wet dream about my fake boyfriend?

I clench my thighs together and shake my head. "Nope. Not going to do it. No way."

But the longer I lay here, the more worked up I get, just imagining the way his lips brushed against the column of my neck, the way I felt his teeth against my cl—

"You didn't feel shit, Cora," I say out loud. "It was a dream."

A fucking good dream. One that's made you feel more than a man has in a really long time.

"Gaia save me," I murmur, flinging the cover off and rolling over to snatch my vibrator out of my nightstand. Luckily this shouldn't take long.

Switching it onto the lowest setting, hoping to tease myself at least a little, I slide it down my abdomen. With my other hand, I slip a finger through my slit and hiss when I find how soaked I am. That was some fucking dream; the last guy I dated couldn't get me half this wet with one makeout session.

When I finally reach my clit with the vibrator, even on the lowest setting, my hips jerk up off the bed and I moan so loudly I have to turn my head and bite down on the sheet to quieten myself down. Then I remember that Elias heard me the night I ran out of the house. He isn't limited by inferior human senses. He heard me open my door. He knew I ran out of the house although the only thing to make a sound was my bare feet. And he followed me right into that graveyard, because he could pick up on every single thing I did. The thought of him hearing me, smelling me, only heightens my pleasure.

I no longer fight my natural reaction to the feeling. Maybe knowing what I'm in here doing will have him sliding his palm down his toned stomach and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Stars burst behind my eyelids and Elias's name slips from my lips. It feels good and so fucking right to think of him right now. The tension that leaves my body with the last shudder of my orgasm leaves me in pure bliss.

I toss my vibrator to the side and melt into the mattress. I should go and clean up, but my legs are in no condition to hold me upright. Every muscle in my body experienced something it never has before. A world-shattering-fireworks-bursting orgasm.

Is that what it's supposed to feel like every time? Because it's never felt that way with anyone. Granted, I've only had a few partners, but even James, the only long-term boyfriend I've had, he never made me feel anything close to that. I had a feeling he was shitty in bed, but since I didn't have anything to compare the act of intercourse to, I wasn't sure.

This was masturbation, not even mutual masturbation, and it was fucking incredible. Even imagining what it would really be like with Elias has me throbbing all over again.

But I'm too exhausted to go another round, even if it does sound tempting. I get out of bed and clean everything up, including myself, then slip back under the cover into a dead sleep.

*****

The next morning at breakfast, I feel better rested than I have in days, and I have a huge, goofy smile on my face when I enter the dining hall for breakfast. Thankfully, all remainders of the violent events of the weekend are gone, leaving a pristinely clean room full of people—well, paranormal creatures? beings?—sitting around chatting like nothing ever happened. They look so normal. I try to find the telltale signs that they are not like me, but I have no idea what I'm looking for. I haven't the faintest clue what types of beings I'm in the presence of. Are there werewolves, angels, demons, trolls?

Elias said I had to figure it all out on my own, but something tells me it isn't going to be an easy task. He was willing to let me discover what he is. The others don't come off as inclined as he was.

The feeling of eyes on me has my gaze drifting down the table to Elias. I cannot control the blush that creeps over my face, neck, and chest. And then I remember what causes a flush to appear on a human's skin—blood. So he can smell me even more now. God, am I going to be thinking about that every second of the day?

"Good morning," I say when I reach Elias, controlling my face so as not to betray anything that happened in my room last night before taking the seat next to him.

"Cordelia," he says, my name a low rumble in his throat. He spares me a quick glance from the corner of his eye. "I take it that you had trouble sleeping last night."

I haven't had a chance to confirm the sleeping habits of vampires yet. Does he have a coffin in his room? Or does he spend the night wide awake, listening to every little thing that goes on in this manor? Either way, his hair is disheveled, and he looks as if he threw on the first thing he found in his suitcase—a black t-shirt and worn jeans. If I had to guess, something kept him from relaxing last night, and by the tone of his voice, that something was me.

"I slept beautifully, actually," I say, casting him a sidelong glance. "After I woke up from a pretty realistic dream. It took me a second to get back to sleep after that, but then I was good to go." My tone is airy and light, but my gaze travels up and down his body with purpose. "You, on the other hand, look a little disheveled. I've not seen your hair look so messy since we met. You good?"

He shifts in his seat and pokes his fork at the bacon on his plate. I've noticed that Elias does eat, but very little. It appears to be more of a formality than a necessity. "Funny. I was woken up from a very vivid dream and had a difficult time falling asleep as well. It didn't help that I swore someone called my name in the middle of the night and I was on high alert after that."

I nearly choke on the smug sip of orange juice I've just taken and grab my napkin so I can cough into it. "Uh, you did? Wh-who do you think it was?"

Elias drops his silverware with a clank and turns to me with a cocked eyebrow. "I know you were sleeping at one point in the night, so I'm going to assume that your imagination ran away with you while you slept. Goddess knows mine did after all that," he says, grumbling the last sentence before he takes a sip of the blood in his mug.

I smirk and draw my bottom lip between my teeth. I really try to hold back the words that flow out of my mouth next, but I just can't do it. He's too flustered right now, and it's fun to fuck with him.

I lean toward him and slide my hand onto his thigh and squeeze. People are supposed to think we've made a match, right? What harm could this do? "Oh, trust me; it ran away with me while I was awake, too. I can paint quite the vivid image in my head, Elias."

"Fuck," he breathes, placing his hand on mine and lightly gripping my fingers. He doesn't pull my hand away, and the muscle in his leg flexes beneath us. Try as he might, I have a feeling that my vampire protector is just as sexually frustrated as I am. I'll respect his wishes if he doesn't want to explore what that release might be like with me, but I can't promise that I won't think about him as I take care of my own needs in the future.