Eternally Hers

Part Thirteen

​Saoirse Kane

I couldn't sleep.

​The time on the clock on my bedside table was nearing two a.m. and yet I was completely unable to fall asleep. I had tried, and failed, at least half a dozen times.

​Arabelle was sleeping now, she had been the past two and a half hours; I could hear her even breathing from our bedroom, and the occasional shuffling as she tossed in her sleep.

​I didn't even bother to hide my frown every time I heard it. She rarely shuffled when we slept together, and in the past two hours alone, she'd tossed and shifted almost restlessly. She was upset, even sleeping.

​The truth was, I didn't want to sleep without her. I couldn't sleep without her.

​I contemplated carrying her to our room but didn't want her to wake up the next morning even more angry and upset with me, and she had specifically asked me to give her space. Carrying her into our room was just blatantly going against her request.

​I couldn't sleep without her. But I also couldn't sleep knowing how upset she was with me.

​Truthfully, her questions had made me speechless. They were absolutely, ridiculously nonsensical.

I couldn't answer her questions – questions that had very simple answers, truly – because I hadn't been able to wrap my head around the mere idea that she thought I did not want her.

​I could not get enough of Arabelle Warren.

​In my nearly three hundred years of existing, I had never fallen into obsession. Addiction. There was not a drug, a thing, or a person that I had ever been addicted to.

​Until Arabelle.

​Everything that woman did had me in utter awe. I simply could not get enough of her. I needed her with me all the time, I needed to touch her constantly; to ruffle her hair, to kiss her forehead, or her cheeks, to rest my chin on her shoulder, wrap my arms around her. My hunger for her had long surpassed my hunger to feed – to hunt.

​The mere idea of not wanting her was absolutely ludicrous.

​She was everything I could have ever asked for in a partner, in a soul mate. She was brilliant, and kind in her own way, selfless, and one of the funniest people I'd ever met in hundreds of years. She was fiery, strong willed, and so passionate. And she was dramatic, sarcastic, ridiculously witty, the most hotheaded women I'd ever met.

​There was no one else I would rather talk to every night, no one I'd rather binge watch tv shows with before bed. No one else I would even bother eating human food with. She was who I wanted to wake up to every morning, and the one I wanted to fall asleep beside every night.

​I wanted her. I had wanted her since the moment I set eyes on her in Kauai. I wanted to spend an eternity alongside her. To wed her eventually, to be able to call that fiery woman my wife. I had never thought of children before her, but if they were something she wanted, I wanted them with her. To raise children with her.

​I truly did not care where life took us, as long as I had her. Because she was what I wanted. In every way I could; mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually.

​I didn't deny myself the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. As if she truly thought I did not want her like that.

​Sex was irrelevant to me my entire existence. I'd gone decades without it in the past. I did not need it to survive, did not even need it to truly live.

​But, oh God, did I want it with her.

​I had never even imagined that my desire to make love to someone would be so strong, and so constant. The self restraint it had taken me the past nearly four weeks to not pull her into the bedroom and ravage her in more ways than one...