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Binding Kiss 6

by Sammy Lycan 2 months ago in fiction
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This piece is Dark Romance and will have tropes that are not suitable for all readers. Please keep your own triggers and sensitivities in mind while reading. 18+

Image Credit: Dream by Wombo

I wake up in Amos’s bed, but he isn’t with me. I feel my bare body under the comforter and pull it tighter over my bandaged but uncollared neck.

“You’re awake. Lord Amos will be pleased to hear.” There’s an older woman sewing, quiet by my bed. God, I want Amos. There’s nothing in my head but desire, and it’s a desire for something that I’m having difficulty naming.

“Is-does a vampire need to feed?” Ah, that’s what it is. I’m horrified by the fact that I don’t seem to care if it’s Amos or not.

“You’ve been asleep for two days. You didn’t stir the entire time we were getting you cleaned up. If you get fed on so soon, you’re going to die, Ezra.” I wonder if Amos told her to call me that. Wanting to question her about it gets buried under the near-need to cry. My neck aches where Amos fed, and the memory of it makes me quiver. And then she says, “Amos has ordered no one feed on you for a week.”

The tears are almost impossible to stop from bursting forth. Almost. I take a deep breath in. This woman is a stranger. Weakness is still a danger to me here. “Is there any way you could get me a change of clothes? Nothing in the wardrobe is good for bedrest.”

She sighs. “Don’t go anywhere.” The way she talks to me makes me think she’s human. I wonder how she’s survived here this long.

When I hear the door shut behind her, my hand goes to the spot where Amos had bitten. I feel naked without the collar, despite the bandages. Amos’s soft spot for me is going to get me killed.

Two days away from the aphrodisiac has given my need to survive this a new will, though. I won’t be taking myself out so soon. I grab the collar from where Amos placed it, and loop the chain back through the headboard. It connects to the chain that feeds out of the wall with a small tink. I sit myself on the bed, holding the collar as if it’s the only thing in the word that could possibly give me comfort.

Hell, when Amos isn’t in the room, maybe it is.

The nurse comes back with a long nightshirt that stops just before my knees and a pair of boxers. Now this I know was Amos’s doing.

“I wouldn’t think you’d want to be collared like that.” The nurse says, motioning with her chin to my hands fastening it.

I speak without thought. It feels as if instinct has control of my tongue. “I’m safer here. I need to be in here.” What I don’t tell her is that it’s comforting. I want Amos to know where I am.

My gut twists. Two days. No aphrodisiac. And I still want him.

The nurse leaves after making sure I have been fed and I am left alone for most of the day. I don’t do anything besides attempt to sleep off the pit in my gut. Withdrawal. It has to be the withdrawal.

I’m woken from my third fitful nap by Amos bringing in supper. I realize that I thought I might never see him again.

“I’m going to be joining you in here until you’re healthy enough to join me at dinners again.”

The laugh I let out is short and strained. “Are we sure that’s a good idea? The last time I joined you for dinner, I nearly died.”

Darkness crosses Amos’s face but I know it is not directed at me. This knowledge is further confirmed when he says, “I’m. . .I’m sorry, Ezra. I can leave your food here if you want, and I don’t have to be around.”

“Wait.” I say, trying to get out of bed but finding myself too dizzy to do so. “Wait, Amos. Please don’t go. I don’t know why but I don’t want you to go.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until he sets the plate down in front of me on the bed and I see one of my tears fall onto the poultry he’s presented. I look up at him. “I won’t go, then. Not until you tell me to.”

I breathe a shaky sigh of relief, nodding my head and biting my lip as I pull the plate toward me. “Thank you.” I eat my food slowly so as not to exacerbate all that could be wrong with me.

Amos doesn’t talk to me unless I talk to him first as the evening turns into a thick summer night, so he doesn’t question me when I turn away from him and attempt to go to sleep. At around two in the morning, though, I hear, “Ezra. I can tell you’re not asleep. Is there anything I can do to help you rest, or do you need me to leave?”

I turn over on the bed to face him. His soft expression is made even softer by the candlelight emanating from the nightstand. I place my hands over my eyes so I don’t have to look at him when I ask, “Can you join me in bed?” I hurry to add,” I don’t want anything like the other night. But not being touched by you when I’m so addicted is. . .difficult.”

“Yes, Ezra. Thank you for asking. Are you comfortable if I’m in my undergarments? There’ll be more skin to skin, but I won’t try anything.”

“I know.” Then, realizing I didn’t answer his question and instead outed myself trusting him, “I mean, that’s fine.”

He nods, not acknowledging the slip. The candle is blown out. Amos strips down, and then lies beside me. “How?” He asks. I curl my head into his chest and he nestles his chin softly in my hair. There’s tenderness in his warmth, kindness and the knowledge that at least for now, I am safe

fiction

About the author

Sammy Lycan

20|Dark Romance and Poetry|He/Him

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