Claim Me

Chapter 29

I didn't know how long the room filled with silence. Perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes. All I knew was that at that moment, Mickey had snatched my heart and made it his all over again.

"You're mad," I whispered.

That was not the response he expected from me and looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"You're mad, Mickey Myster," I repeated. "Do you understand what you just said? You will abandon the werewolves that need you? Just to be with me?"

I knew he hated being doubted. Even worse, I sounded as if I questioned his sanity. But the fool didn't understand that I was trying to make him see just how utterly in love with me he was. No matter how much he denied it, it seemed he had fallen in love with me a long time ago.

"Do you think I came to this decision with ease?" he growled. "Do you think I found it simple to turn the messenger away and watch him fade into the night as a bearer of bad news?!"

"And yet, you did it. And yet, you're here."

"Because of you, vampire!"

"I know," I said breathlessly. "I know. And I love you."

"What?"

I didn't bother explaining and tugged on the lapels of his suit. My tongue swiped his chin and followed the trail of blood that led to his mouth. Mickey groaned when I sucked his bottom lip, drinking in the bloodstains. I saw him raise his hands, but they hovered, as if he hesitated to touch me, as if he didn't know where to touch me. After all, he had just made a declaration to the vampires and werewolves in the room. He wanted an answer.

But I wouldn't let him reach sanity so soon. Not when he had taken mine away.

"I love you," I whispered again. "I love you, Mickey."

He growled in surrender and placed his hands on either side of my head, pressing me into a deep kiss that was a mix of blood and tongues. I gulped down his blood and the taste of him. Mickey did not shy away when I offered my own blood from my tongue. In fact, I found him accepting my blood more erotic than drinking from him.

"You are the reason I am mad, Lydia," he spoke between kisses. Not only had he ruffled my hair, but I felt him grabbing my dress, my bottom, any part of me he could touch—any part of me he could claim.

"I know," I answered, breathless. "I love you, werewolf. I love you. I love driving you mad."

Mickey groaned, tangling our tongues between our open mouths. He slid a hand through my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my neck. I cried in pleasure when he sank his teeth into my skin—a werewolf's love bite.

"Okay, we get it!" someone shouted, and through the haze of pleasure, I recognized it as Giovanni's. "Mickey! Lydia! You have other priorities right now!"

I almost pushed Mickey away until he sank his claws into the cheeks of my ass.

"Oh for the love of—!"

My moan cut off Gio's exclamation.

"I warned you," Mickey growled against my neck. "I warned if you kept me waiting, I would do this in front of everyone."

I panted, my eyes seeing nothing but the glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the stars of passionate pleasure. I could swim in the sight of them forever. But a small part of my rationality remained, and I knew Gio had reminded us of our objectives for our sake—well, maybe for the room's sake too.

Once I caught my breath, I asked Mickey, "You want eyes other than yours to see me like this?"

He twitched at my words and pulled back to look at my flushed face, filled with undeniable heat. And it was only rising by every second. My hair was no longer tame, having become wild from his fingers. My breasts were nearly out of my dress, and there were tears in the material from his claws. Skin from my bottom and thighs were widely exposed to the eyes of the room.