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Grasping his hand, she stopped and tugged. Though her physical strength meant nothing to Charles, her emotional hold dragged him close to her. His hands rested on her hips. They were broad and smooth beneath the gauzy dress. How he longed to caress their delicate white flesh and cover them with kisses. He imagined pressing his face to her soft belly and licking and kissing until her tender, human warmth seeped deep into his vampire body. His c.o.c.k pulsed and ached as he remembered how it felt to be buried to the hilt in her hot, slick pa.s.sage. He could almost feel her inner muscles squeezing until he exploded in blinding pa.s.sion to the pulsations of her velvet p.u.s.s.y and the taste of her delicious blood.
"Tell me," she breathed, standing on tiptoe and slipping her arms around his neck. "Tell me how you feel."
"I'm filled with pa.s.sion such as I've never known, yet at the same time I'm awed by you. I could never take anything from you that you didn't freely give, Marie. I have waited centuries for a woman like you. If I could simply taste you and hold you for this one night, the memory would remain with me for eternity."
"Why me? There are other women. Vampires, prettier mortals."
"There are none as beautiful as you." He drew a deep breath, his heart so filled with love for her that he was on the verge of baring his soul completely. Perhaps now was the time to share at least some of what was in his heart. He gestured to his mask and mantle. "I chose this costume because Vulcan is not unlike me, at least what's in his heart is like what's in mine. Right now, I'm looking, with the soul twisting combination of reverence and l.u.s.t, at a G.o.ddess who is too beautiful for me in every way, yet I can't help myself."
Gasping, Marie stepped away. She wrapped her arms around herself and she shook her head. "That is so untrue. I'm not beautiful. I'm certainly not a G.o.ddess."
"You're wrong, Marie." He grasped her arms and turned her to face him. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he lowered his head and spoke against her lips. "Your beauty, inside and out, calls to me. Let me answer. Please. Give me permission to answer."
Wrapping his arm more firmly around her waist, he supported her completely. She sank against him, her eyes fluttering shut as his mouth covered hers.
Charles's heartbeat raced. Every nerve in his body sprang alive. His very soul bellowed with all the pa.s.sion he'd been harboring for this woman who meant more to him than anything in his life. How had he managed to stay away from her for so long? How had he deprived them both of the love that had grown between them?
Marie's lips parted beneath the tender stroking of his tongue. He tasted every inch of her mouth. G.o.d, she was sweet. She was soft and warm. Her hands tangled in the hair at his nape. Full b.r.e.a.s.t.s tipped with plump, stiff nipples pressed against his chest.
A groan escaped his throat and he deepened the kiss. He sucked on her tongue in a gentle rhythm that soon had her panting and gripping him tighter.
The kiss left them breathless. Her power over him struck him like a silver arrow.
He held her gaze. "I want you to come with me to my room here."
Slowly, she nodded, the faintest smile on her lips.
Elation filled him, then shock and rage. To her, he was a total stranger. A one-night stand. She believed he, Charles, was in hunters' clutches, yet she was willing to make love with masked John Brookfield? And it wasn't as if Charles had been gone for years. It was only three months.
"What's wrong?" She slid her arms around him and stroked his back. The touch felt so good, so arousing.
"You would do this? Join me in my room?"
"Yes."
Why shouldn't she? After all, Charles had wanted Mel and Zigor to tell her he was gone. He claimed to want her to pick up her life and go on without him. Now that she was about to do just that, he felt jealous, like a spoiled brat. Well, d.a.m.n it, if he was going to act like a spoiled brat, he would play the part to the hilt. He would take her upstairs and make love with her. He would feel her body writhe and her heart pound. He would revel in the hot pulsations of the multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms he vowed to bestow upon her. When she lay sated, her gorgeous body slick with sweat and her beautiful cheeks flushed pink with fulfilled desire, he would plunge into her and explode for the last time in the body of the woman he loved.
Charles needed her this one last time, then he would allow the beautiful Venus to find love with a normal man possessing a normal face, just as he had intended.
Chapter Five.
Marie's heart pounded wildly. She glanced at Charles's masked face and wondered if he would finally reveal himself once in the privacy of his room. The kiss they had shared moments ago had wiped out any lingering doubts that this man might not be Charles. His lips and tongue had moved in the tender yet demanding way she well remembered. His taste and the rhythm of his breathing were distinctly Charles's.
His eyes flickered in her direction, sending a spark of raw desire through her. It seemed like forever since they had been together. This was like a dream. The most wonderful fantasy was about to come true. Her lover had come back to her. More than anything she wished for him to tell her, to sweep her into his embrace and drop this secrecy hanging between them like a heavy velvet drape.
At the end of the hallway, they paused outside a door. They had postponed their visit to the replicated Roman bath and opted to satisfy the l.u.s.t threatening to burn them alive. Charles unlocked the door and switched on the light for Marie's sake.
Glancing around the room, she noted many candles were arranged on a square wooden table. A tall metal candelabrum that held three red pillar candles stood near the bed. The faint scent of vanilla and coconut wafted on the air.
"Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"No thank you. The rum was enough."
The door closed and Charles placed a hand on her shoulder. Marie jumped, her nerves frayed from the excitement of seeing him again.
"Are you afraid?"
"Of you?" She smiled. "No."
His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips tightened a bit. Though she wished to see her lover's handsome face and feel his soft, finely drawn lips against hers, there was something oddly compelling about his costume mouth. It was ugly yet arousing. The odd shape of it had felt so natural when he kissed her. She wondered if the makeup on his shoulders and chest felt as real. Tentatively, she lifted a hand and rested it against the hard curve of his shoulder. She used her fingertip to trace the outline of his veins beneath the whitest sections of flesh. Drawing a deep breath that expanded his broad chest, he watched her caressing hand with such intensity that her nipples tightened and her c.l.i.t ached. As she swept both hands over his chest, her breathing quickened. Her palms rested flat against the warm flesh, smooth in places, roughened by hair and scars in others. How could a costume feel so real?
Suddenly his hands covered hers. He pressed them hard to his chest. His heart pounded in an unusually fast rhythm. A smile tugged at her lips when she realized he was as turned on as she was.
"I have a request." His deep voice was soft yet demanding. This was clearly more than a request, but something he wanted badly.
"What is it?"
"I want to play a game."
Her smile broadened. "I thought we already were."
"Yes." His jaw tightened. Was he angry? Upset? Of course he was. Whatever kept him playing the role of John Brookfield must have been worrying him. It had something to do with the hunters, that she knew. Zigor said he would tell her in his own way, so she wasn't going to waste time trying to drag it out of him now. Maybe later when she lay in his arms, she would whisper in his ear how much she loved and missed him.
"I want us to play the parts of Vulcan and Venus, only I want you to surrender to him. I want you to give him his deepest desire."
"You want me to make love to you?" Her c.l.i.t throbbed and her p.u.s.s.y moistened at the thought of seducing him. This game excited her. He knew how much she loved to incorporate role playing in their lovemaking and had planned this night for the two of them to enjoy. Another man she might have questioned, but she had grown accustomed to the quirks of a thousand-year-old vampire. Later she would ask for answers. Now she intended to enjoy each and every moment of their reunion.
"No. Vulcan's deepest desire is to seduce Venus, to please her. That's what I want. In pleasuring you, I will find my fulfillment. I want to kiss every inch of you and taste you in places that make you scream with pa.s.sion." His eyes closed and he breathed deeply, his lips parting slightly, exposing the very tips of his fangs. "Already I can taste your sweet, plump nipples on my tongue and feel the velvet slickness of your p.u.s.s.y when I thrust my fingers inside you."
"Oh, G.o.d," Marie sighed, her face hot with desire.
"Does it bother you to hear this?"
"No. Please go on."
His fingers threaded gently in her hair and he leaned closer, speaking against her lips. "I want to kiss and lick every inch of you, my beauty. I'll pleasure you with my lips and tongue. Can you feel me licking and exploring your soft flesh? I'll make you come over and over. I'll sate you. Worship you. Love you. My c.o.c.k aches for you, Marie."
She knew it did, for its steely length pressed hard against her. Reaching down, she traced the shape of it through his toga. He growled deep in his throat and she smiled. His vampiric growls, grunts, and hisses were so familiar to her. She knew the difference between a growl of anger and one of l.u.s.t. This was definitely one of pure, scarcely controlled pa.s.sion.
Her hand curved around his c.o.c.k as well as she could with the material between them. She reached lower, grasped his b.a.l.l.s, and squeezed with the amount of pressure she knew he loved. "Tell me more of what you'll do, Vulcan."
"After I've licked and sucked you, after I've kissed and caressed you from your silken hair to your beautiful toes, I will take you. When you're begging to be filled with a man's flesh, I will thrust my c.o.c.k deep inside you and bury my fangs in your neck. I will thrust and suck until you're sated, then and only then will I allow myself release."
"Only then?" Her eyes flickered open and she gazed at him. She knew vampires needed little or no recovery time between o.r.g.a.s.ms. How many nights had she literally fallen asleep with him buried inside her?
"Yes. It's Vulcan's payment for having his desire fulfilled. He will wait in delicious torment before surrendering to the pa.s.sion that is consuming him."
"It is?"
"More than you realize." He drew a sharp breath and covered her hand which was still stroking his c.o.c.k and b.a.l.l.s. His fingers tightened on hers slightly. "Already I could explode from your touch alone, but I won't. I want this desire to keep growing until it pushes me near madness. I have needed you forever, Marie."
Charles had always been a creative lover and good with words, but this was unprecedented. Never had she felt more loved and desired. Her arms locked around his neck and she tugged his face closer until their lips touched. Their tongues met, stroking and thrusting, while their bodies pressed close, warmth sinking into warmth. Marie needed to see him. She wanted to cover his face with kisses. She reached up to unfasten the mask, but he caught her hands.
"No, Marie. The mask must stay." His gaze bore into hers, as if he was trying to send her a message that this night must be his way or no way. A hint of desperation sparked his eyes, so she decided to continue playing along. If he truly couldn't reveal himself, then he must be involved in something horrible, probably another of his private campaigns against evil. Why else would he stage such a production? Fury rose inside her. The man was going to drive her insane! She should question him before this went any further. Suddenly she recalled with frightening clarity the sensation of Zigor in her head, telling her to let Charles disclose his secrets on his own. Surely the Master knew his offspring well enough for her to trust his judgment. Once more her anger faded. No matter what his reason, she was grateful that Charles was alive and with her again.
She clung to him tightly, not wanting to let him go. His arms slipped around her, and for several moments they stood locked in a fierce embrace. Pressing kisses to the side of her neck, he growled again. The flickering of his tongue over her flesh sent ripples of desire down her spine.
"This is no longer a hotel room." He moved away slightly and caressed her face with his fingertips. "This is Vulcan's private chamber. From now on, we are the smith G.o.d and his rebellious wife. Stand still, my ivory G.o.ddess, while I disrobe you."
Nodding, Marie stared at him, trying to keep the smile from her face. Though his game was highly erotic, she also saw the humor in it. This was very different from their usual vampire lord and lady scenario. He slipped the silky dress off her shoulders and down her arms. Warm fingertips caressed her upper arms as he bent and kissed one shoulder, then trailed his lips across her collarbone to her other shoulder. Her ample b.r.e.a.s.t.s held up the front of the dress, though the delicate material had dipped so much that the very tops of her pink areolas were exposed.
Sinking to his knees, Vulcan tilted his masked face up to her. With a slight tug, the dress dropped to her belly, completely baring her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
"So beautiful." He cupped the smooth, pale globes in his hands and kneaded gently. His thumbs rubbed tender circles on the underside of each breast. The sensation tickled and she quivered a bit. "Yes, sweet G.o.ddess, you like that, don't you? So do I."
He dropped one hand and cupped her bottom cheek. Leaning forward, his lips replaced his thumb under her breast. He kissed and licked the flesh and she writhed, giggling. Holding her fast, he continued the delicious torment until her legs almost collapsed from laughter and desire.
Finally he sat back on his heels and stroked a long fingertip between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. An endearing smile twisted his funny lips. Grasping the dress, he tugged it over her belly and hips. The fabric pooled at her feet. She stood before him wearing nothing but lace trimmed satin panties. At one time, she might have felt a little uncomfortable standing naked in front of a man. Her hips and belly were very round, as were her thighs. Though she wasn't modern society's vision of beauty, Charles said she was the traditional image of s.e.xuality and loveliness. How many scrawny cla.s.sical statues had she ever seen? When a man took a woman to bed, did he really want a skeleton clinging to him?
His lips parted and his gaze fixed on her satin-clad feminine mound. Placing his mouth over her c.l.i.t, he exhaled slowly. Heat and slight moisture from his breath surrounded the pa.s.sion-swelled nub. Desire struck her like a magical thrill. Her trembling fingers wove through his hair as he began licking her through the panties. The material dampened. The stroking of his tongue against wet silk created such marvelous friction. Moaning softly, she grasped handfuls of his hair.
His caress stopped for only a few seconds during which he slipped her panties down to her ankles. She kicked them aside along with the dress. Suddenly his lips were on her exposed c.l.i.t.
Marie cried out, thrusting closer to his lapping tongue. If he kept this up, she'd come right where she stood. Suddenly his tongue moved to the joining of one of her thighs. He licked it and nipped her hip before sitting back on his knees and tugging her close. Still standing, she straddled his lap while he covered her thighs with kisses. His deft fingers unfastened the straps on first one sandal, then the other. He rubbed and caressed her ankles and calves. Grasping her bottom in both hands, he lapped her navel.
He stood, lifting her into his arms, and carried her toward the bed.
"Oh." She giggled and clung to his neck. "I've almost forgotten what this is like."
His eyes narrowed in question.
"I'm not exactly the kind of woman most men can literally sweep off her feet." She gazed deeply into his eyes, pouring all her l.u.s.t and affection into her expression.
"I love when you look at me like that, Venus. Tell me you want me."
"Oh, I want you so much. You have no idea how much I want you."
"You'd be surprised, my G.o.ddess."
He placed her on the bed. Closing her eyes for a moment, she squirmed with pleasure against the black satin sheets. With a sweep of his hand, he caressed her from breast to knee. Before turning away, he stared at her for a long moment. His gaze was filled with such burning desire and affection that she longed to call him by his true name and tell him how much she loved him.
He turned off the light. For several seconds the room was so dark that she couldn' t see anything. Then the light of a single candle flickered across the room. One by one, he lit the candles on the table. He had removed his toga and stood in all his bare magnificence. Oh yes. She knew his body well, except if possible his muscles appeared even harder and more chiseled than before. Whatever had happened to him these past months must have required tremendous physical demands. His b.u.t.tocks, legs, and torso looked as if they had been carved from granite. The markings on his flesh even gave him a rock-like appearance. Her brow furrowed. He certainly had taken the makeup to an extreme, even using it on the parts of him that the toga had hidden.
Suddenly a sick feeling wrapped around her. The scars couldn't possibly be real? Had he been permanently injured while in the hunters' clutches? She shuddered to consider the sort of torture that could defeat his power of regeneration. There were so many questions that needed answers.
He turned to her. Flames danced across his body and reflected in his yellow eyes. His broad chest rose and fell as he approached. Marie's gaze riveted to his c.o.c.k that stood so thick and proud amidst a nest of wiry black hair. The heavy b.a.l.l.s beneath looked tight, the crown of his erection so thick with need. Seeing him so aroused was an amazing turn on for her. The sudden urge to lap his c.o.c.k and suck it deeply into her mouth almost overcame her. She loved to watch him writhe with impending o.r.g.a.s.m and feel his giant muscles tense with pa.s.sion. His growls and groans of desire did unimaginable things to her libido.
"Venus." He approached the bed, striking a long match and lighting the three candles on the nearby stand. "Tonight you will give yourself to me and I will please you like no man ever has before."
"I hate to break the moment." Marie raised herself on her elbows. Truly she didn't want to upset the fantasy, but what about her questions? "I need to know something."
"What?"
"Are you able to show me who you really are, the man beneath the mask?" Her gaze bore into his as she tried impressing upon him that she knew exactly who he was but would keep her silence if necessary.
The look in his eyes told her everything. Love shone there, but also sadness. He couldn't speak freely. G.o.d, did the hunters have some way of hearing his private conversations? Perhaps someone at Burgundy Peak itself could not be trusted? That seemed impossible. Zigor would never allow hunters in their midst. Whatever Charles's reason for secrecy, if he was with her now, it was because he needed to see her. She would have to trust him.
"I am Vulcan. Flawed, miserable, and desperately in love with you."
His words tugged at her heart. This role playing no longer seemed like a joke, for she had no doubts those words were real, spoken by Charles, not the fire G.o.d he pretended to be.
Nodding, she swallowed past the tightness in her throat and lay on the bed. "Then show me how much."
"As you know, my work is often harsh." He sat on the bed beside her. His hand hovered over her throat and b.r.e.a.s.t.s, not touching her flesh but stirring her through the heat of his palm. Ever so slightly he brushed the tips of her nipples. "My hands are knotted and rough from the forge, but they'll never hurt you. How I've longed to touch your softness."
Marie placed her hands over his and pressed them to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Yes, his flesh was rougher in places than she remembered, but these were his hands, and she loved every part of him.
"Close your eyes, Venus."
She obeyed, her heart thrumming. The bed moved and she heard the nightstand drawer open. His hands, slick with coconut scented oil, ma.s.saged her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, relishing the scent. He rubbed and caressed, easing tension from her shoulders and moving to her arms. Slowly he stroked her collarbone, then the tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. In spite of her relaxed state, excitement stirred inside her. The sensation of his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s turned her on so much that she could scarcely wait for him to finally reach her nipple. He played with her for such a long time that she started squirming. Opening her eyes, she caught his aroused gaze and arched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his hands, hoping to encourage him to pay at least some attention to her stiff, yearning nipples.
Leaning over, he whispered against her lips. "Patience, beauty."
"But I want you so much."
"I will give you everything you want and more, but I won't rush. Not with you." Again he reached into the nightstand drawer and withdrew a shimmering silver scarf that gave the illusion of fine metal. "I want you to surrender to me. Trust me. For this one night, love me."
"This love will last far beyond one night. This is forever. Whatever happens, don' t forget that."
The strangest expression shone in his eyes. Was it guilt, confusion, disbelief, or a combination of the three?
Charles stared deeply into Marie's eyes. Did she have any idea how much her words touched him? The urge to rip off the mask, bury his face in her neck, and beg her forgiveness was almost overwhelming. Something in her eyes told him she knew who he was, yet something else told him that even if she did, there was no way she could possibly have learned of the accident. She probably thought his scars were part of a disguise. How often had he told her about the crazy things vampires did over the years to protect their secrets? So many times they changed their names, their appearance, their entire ident.i.ty. Why would she think this was any different?
Once again he was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps she didn't know it was him. Were her words simply part of the game? Was she playing her role to the hilt to attain s.e.xual gratification? He knew how much she enjoyed acting out whimsical scenes as a prelude to mind blowing s.e.x.
d.a.m.n it, he was more confused than he had ever been in his entire life. Worst of all, he didn't deserve to question her loyalty. He had lied to her and now he was trying to satisfy his needs by approaching her with a lame idea of playing out a love scene between ancient Roman deities. If she ended up kicking him in the b.a.l.l.s, he deserved it.
"Sit up," he commanded. She did as he asked and he tied the scarf over her eyes. "Now lie back and let me pleasure you. No more interruptions."
"But --"