My queen

My queen
"Okay. Talk to you soon." He hung up and I turned away, already thinking of Amara as I walked the distance from the top of the stairs to the guest wing.
I hesitated outside her door, unsure if I should enter her private space, since privacy had been one of her negotiations before agreeing to spend a month with me.
But how could he protect her if he wasn't by her side? It was where I needed to be.
I had never felt an attraction like this before, and I leaned my forehead against the door for a moment as I inhaled deeply, but to no avail. His scent invaded my senses. It was everywhere, all around me.
I opened the door and a whisper crossed the carpet before creeping in and moving the lounge chair to the side of the bed. I sat up with a deep sigh that seemed to rise from the floor and fixed my gaze on Amara's face .
Unable to contain myself, I leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. Ana had removed the bobby pins that held her hair back, and it fell loosely over her shoulders. I wished the gray dress had gone to the cleaners, though that was the least of my worries. I could buy her a new gray dress for every day of the year if she had liked it. And I would, if that was what she wanted when she woke up.
"Hello " I said quietly." I'm so sorry about today."
The words were out of my mouth before I even thought them.
I didn't apologize. I wasn't wrong.
But today I had.
I screwed up so badly today that I almost lost my partner.
Maybe I needed to tell him the truth about me, about vampires, about those damn New Orleans weirdos, so he'd know exactly how seriously to take his safety. But then what?
Then it would be scary. It would be something out of a horror movie.
And no one would willingly give themselves over to the villain of a horror movie. He would jeopardize everything with Amara if he told her now. I hadn't spent enough time with her yet to convince her that she deserved my claim. Unless she accepted me, I would just be a monster.
I didn't want to be a monster to her. Fate was bringing us together, but she needed to accept me completely, give herself to me, or.... Fuck. She needed willing blood, willing surrender of her body, and I couldn't risk what little trust I might have forged between us.
He shifted slightly in his sleep, and a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. I longed to smooth it out or know what had caused it. A murmur drew my attention to his lips, and I longed to feel them against mine again.
I took her hand between my palms, and I was willing. Willing for her to wake up because I needed my mate.
My queen.
AMARA 
I rolled over, not ready to wake up, but not sleepy enough to go back to sleep either. I tucked my nose under the thick comforter and willed myself to rest, but something in the luxurious room felt different.
Something was out of place.
Everything was completely silent, but a presence hovered in my mind. I didn't feel alone, and slowly opening one eye, I discovered that, with slightly blurred vision, I was looking at Arturo , sitting in a nearby chair, illuminated by the gloom seeping behind the curtains.
I stifled a gasp and opened my other eye, then watched him for a moment. He didn't move; his eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling without stopping. It was logical to assume that he was asleep and had not noticed my scrutiny. Well, scrutiny was more accurate than simple observation, especially the way his unbuttoned shirt revealed the beginnings of a tattoo on his left breastplate.
He was still wearing his clothes from the night before, and the tousled hair looked good on him. I hadn't taken the opportunity to observe him up close, but this was like a free pass. In fact, he looked calm without the usual stress lines around his mouth and eyes. Sleep had calmed him down.
I shifted and stifled a groan as my body protested the movement, a series of pains echoing through my body. When had the van rumbled into the bedroom and run me over?
Had I had too much to drink in New Orleans? I could almost remember the restaurant, but then it all became a little hazy. Why was Arthur there, so disheveled and uncomfortable...and, in fact, kind of sexy?
That tattoo caught my attention again. It disappeared under the black fabric of his shirt in the most tempting way. It made me want to follow it...with my tongue. I closed my eyes at the unexpected thought and the image it evoked.
Carefully, quietly, so that the rustle of the sheets wouldn't disturb him, and so that none of my movements would hurt, I moved my legs until I sat on the edge of the bed. Then I held my breath as uncertainty washed over me, what the hell was I thinking?
For a few moments, I sat there watching Arturo , as lust spread its lazy fingers across my abdomen. My gaze wandered again and again to his tattoo; the dark ink against his skin was more tempting to explore than I would have thought possible.