AN: This may be the last post until the end of next week. I’ll be on vacation without connection to the interwebs this Wed through the middle of next week. Yay vacation!!!! I’ll deff try to get writing done so next week all I have to do is play pose and picture catch up 🙂 Oh, and this chapter is PG-13. Some slight sexual themes are found below.

Elijah’s quiet breaths fill the air. I look at him, taking in his stoic figure. His pale blue eyes burn with fire as they look at me, sending shivers down my body. The way he looks at me now, since that night in the forest, makes me confused.

We came back from the mission with no more incidents. I never let on what I knew, and Elijah never let on about our moment in the woods. For the most part, I can almost pretend it didn’t happen. Almost. However, if there’s ever a moment we’re alone, those eyes catch me in their web and draw me in. I’ve always wanted him; he has always seemed so out of reach. Now I know he isn’t.

“Guinevere.” He whispers quietly, stepping forward.

I smirk slightly. He’s always hesitant when we meet up here. Not about being found out, no, we don’t have to worry about that. He’s hesitant with me, my reactions. I like to make sure this isn’t anything important. Nothing will come out of this. I will never love him, or forgive him for abandoning me.

I step forward and press my lips to his. He kisses me back, wrapping his hands around me. The whispers that usually fill my mind in this room die to nothing. The confusing, frightening feelings within me rise as our hunger for each other grows. I can feel it, those burning flames of pleasure rippling through me flashing images before my closed eyelids of what I would like to do with Elijah.

I push him back so we topple onto the rugs piled next to the fountain. As our kisses deepen and our need grows he undoes the buttons holding my vest closed. It slides down my shoulders and to the floor.

He pauses, taking me in before kissing down my neck and chest. He stops at the center of my tattoo, kissing it softly. His warm breath sends goose bumps down my arms. I breathe out and grind against him, feeling his want for me as it struggles against his pants.

His cold hands grip my warm flesh, pulling us tighter together. He presses his lips to mine again as I slide my hands down his body, stopping at his waist line. He sucks in a breath and one of his fangs catches my lip just enough to draw blood. I feel him tense and pull back.

“What?” I ask, looking up at him with my hands on his chest.

“I can’t.” He whispers, gently moving me off him and standing up.

“What?” I repeat, angrier this time.

“We can’t do this Gwen.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair. He leans against the wall and I can tell he’s frustrated.

“Then why the hell do we keep coming here and doing this?” I ask, grabbing my vest and slipping it back on as I stand.

“I don’t know.” He mutters, dropping his arms to his sides.

“Bull shit.” I hiss. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine,” He says shortly, “You want the truth? The truth is that you’re engaged to my brother. You don’t care for me; I’m just something that’s forbidden to you. You’re also bleeding, and if you willingly give that to me, with those feelings you’ve got storming inside you that you try to ignore, we won’t be able to go back from what happens. You’re not ready for what will happen.”

I stare at him. What will happen if I willingly give him my blood? How does he know what I’m feeling when I don’t even know? I roll my eyes and glare at him.

“How the hell do you know I’m not ready for what will happen?” I ask.

His eyes level with mine, and they burn with emotion. “Because you can’t even admit to yourself that you’re falling for me. That you’ve been falling for me since we were children.”

Shock rips through me. “Oh yea? Well I don’t see you admitting it either!”

Elijah shakes his head and smiles. “Just because I haven’t admitted it to you, doesn’t mean I haven’t admitted it to myself. You’re just not ready to hear all that I have to say.”

I can’t say anything to him. On some level, I know everything he’s saying is right, and it terrifies me. But on the level I’m on now, there’s no way in hell I’m ready to acknowledge it. He turns to leave and I wave my hand to open the doors, not even bothering to stop him. As he disappears down the corridors I let out a sigh and slump to the ground. If I had grown up with my family, if I had never been given up, would I have this much trouble with my feelings?