Brotherhood Of Blood - Rare Vintage Part 4

Suddenly she knew she didn't want to see him dead. No matter what had happened between them, she didn't wish him ill.

Quite the contrary, she thought with shock. She'd come to respect and like him. More than like, if she were being honest with herself. In a perverse way, she missed their little confrontations and found herself oddly disappointed-even lonely-that he wasn't making a nuisance of himself anymore.

"Like h.e.l.l," Kelly's voice rose. "You can't just say something like that in front of me, then pat my head like a toy poodle and tell me to be on my way."

"Ma pet.i.te, I can a.s.sure you, I do not think of you as a poodle. Where do you get such notions? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss your question. I only wish to spare you worry. It's not my death we were discussing, but Leonard Gibson's. If he presses his challenge, we will battle to the death and he is far less experienced than I. His death will be quick and as painless as I can make it, but I'll have to kill him if he challenges me."

"That's totally barbaric." Kelly was appalled.

"It's the way of our kind," Marc spoke in soothing tones, moving closer to her. He stepped right up to her, his arms coming around her loosely, naturally. She didn't even make a token objection to his nearness. Instead, she burrowed closer, tucking her head under his chin. She rested her cheek against his beating heart, like she was made to go there. She didn't question why she felt this overwhelming need to be close to him, and apparently neither did he. The distance that had been between them was no more.

Atticus seemed surprised for the short moment she met his gaze before she closed her eyes, but it didn't really register. All that mattered was Marc. She inhaled his warm, exotic scent, ignoring everything but being in his arms again. Being home, at last.

"I'll be right outside." Atticus cleared his throat and excused himself.

She'd forgotten he was even in the room. A moment later, Atticus was gone, leaving the two of them alone, though she only noted his departure peripherally as Marc held her close.

"I don't like the idea of a fight to the death, Marc. You may be a royal pain in the a.s.s, but I don't want to see you hurt."

"Royal, I am not. But you're not the first to call me a pain in the a.s.s, so on that score you might be right. I can a.s.sure you, I've fought many challenges over the centuries, and I've held on to this position for some time. That I still hold it should be proof enough that I can prevail against almost any challenger." He pulled back to tip her chin up with one hand. "Do not worry, ma pet.i.te.

Though it touches my heart that you care for my welfare." He chuckled as a gentle smile stretched his lips. "I thought you hated me."

She reached up to cup his cheek. "I don't hate you, Marc, but you do frighten me." "I could never hurt you, ma belle. It's not in me to cause you any kind of harm. I would sooner greet the dawn than cause you pain."

"Why?" she whispered. "Why me?"

Marc's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. All I know is that you fire my senses more than any woman has in more than five hundred years. When I smell the delicate scent of your skin, I want to lick you all over. When I see your beautiful face, I want to kiss you senseless. And when I hear your laughter, I want to be the one bringing you joy."

"Then why have you been avoiding me?"

"Precisely for those reasons, ma cherie. You are far too tempting, and I do not trust myself around you."

His voice trailed off as he tilted her head, angling his head down so she could see his kiss coming a mile away. He was giving her a chance to move away, a last chance for escape, but she didn't take it. Instead she raised her beautiful, stubborn chin and met him halfway, partic.i.p.ating fully in the kiss, not merely accepting it, but demanding it.

Chapter Eight.

The thought of her open acceptance sent his senses reeling, almost as much as her delicate flavor. She was the finest wine, softly scented and full of delight as he stroked her lips open with his tongue. His sharp canines lengthened almost to their full extent before he could reign in his uncontrollable response to her. As it was, he nicked her soft lip, sending just a microscopic trace of her essence into their kiss, bringing his hard body to instant attention and to an even higher state of arousal.

It wasn't enough for him to really get a taste of her. More a tease to his enhanced senses. A tantalizing taste of what could be.

He wanted more. His body ached for more.

It seemed he had walked around half-aroused since the moment he'd caught sight of the lovely Kelly. That was unusual in itself. Centuries had pa.s.sed since a woman could so completely captivate his senses and even longer since he couldn't control his masculine responses to a lush female form. The dream had only made it worse. He knew her darkest desires now and had an idea of what she was like in pa.s.sion. The memory of how she had responded tormented him every waking moment.

He plunged his tongue inside, savoring the taste of her, and knew he must have more. Licking and tasting, he drew away from her delectable mouth, down over her chin to nuzzle his sharp teeth against her neck. He was almost there. He salivated at the thought of the rare vintage pulsing through her veins and how he suspected it would soothe the hungry ache deep in his soul.

"I've got to have you," he whispered, drawing back, preparing to strike.

A hard shove against his chest caught him off balance.

Unprepared as he was for her attack, she actually succeeded in moving him a few inches away from the tantalizing skin of her neck. He looked down into her blazing eyes, surprised by the light of battle in them when only a moment ago he could have sworn she was as deeply under his spell as he was under hers.

"I am not on the menu, LaTour. If that 's all you want from me, you can find a blood donor somewhere else." She pushed against his chest, and he was so surprised by her sudden reversal and the tears gathering in her beautiful eyes, he let her go.

How could he explain that sustenance was the furthest thing from his mind when he thought of tasting her essence? He realized taking her blood into his body would be more than a simple act of feeding. This one woman had a power over him that no woman in over six centuries could claim. This one woman was not just another warm body flowing with life.

This one woman represented something much greater.

He didn't dare hope that she could be the One for him, but she was definitely something special. It was time he made her aware of that little fact. It was time for some real honesty between them. Time for him to lay his cards on the table. Before she could flee the room completely, he was there, in front of her, blocking her way. "What I desire from you goes beyond sustenance, Kelly, so get that thought right out of your head. If all I wanted was a meal, any warm body would do. For that matter, I could have clouded your mind and you would have bared your neck to me eagerly."

He pulled her almost roughly into his arms. "But I don't want that from you. I want you to come to me freely, of your own will."

"Is that some kind of vampire mojo? Do you need me to invite you in so you can have total control over me? Because if it 's something like that, you can think again, mister. I am my own woman. I won't subjugate myself to you or any other man."

"Who said I want to subjugate you, ma pet.i.te?" His hold tightened as he stared into her eyes, using just a tiny hint of his influence to coerce her answer. He didn't want to use his powers on her, but this was too important to let go. If she'd been hurt in the past, he needed to know about it. "Where did you get that idea?"

It wasn't easy, but she was just susceptible enough to his mental push to comply. Her eyes went hard and cold, and he nearly growled.

"Who hurt you, bebe?" he whispered, desperate to erase the harsh look on her soft features. She shook her head. "Not me,"

she said finally, haltingly. "One of my friends. Her husband beats her, I just know it, but she won't say a thing against him. She won't leave him or even try to get out of her marriage. She's completely consumed by him. Under his total control. I won't ever let that happen to me."

The relief that shuddered through him took Marc by surprise. He wasn't happy she had to witness one of her friends in an unhealthy relationship, but he was glad she hadn't suffered at the hands of some other man. He hated to think what he might have been driven to do if a man who'd hurt her still lived. One thing he knew for certain, such a man would not live for long, and he wouldn't enjoy his last moments. Marc would make sure of that.

"I don't want to control you, Kelly. I want you to be my partner. My equal."

"Me, the equal of a six hundred year old vampire? Yeah, right. I'm as far out of your league as it's possible to get, Marc." She tried to pull out of his arms, but he wasn't letting her go.

"I think not." He caressed her back, his hands making small circles. "I think you're perfectly capable of playing in my league, as you put it. In fact, I think you outcla.s.s me by a mile. I'm the one who must work to be worthy of you, not the other way around.

Won't you give me the chance?"

"Why? Why me?"

She'd asked him that before, but he still didn't have a good reason he could articulate. He only knew in his soul that it was so.

"I know not," he whispered, drawing her close. "I only know that I need you as I have needed no other woman in a very long time. I tried to stay away, but it's impossible. I want your blood, but I also want your body. I want to make love to you until the dawn parts us. I want to drown in your essence and fill you with mine. It's as basic and as complicated as that."

"And what about when you tire of me?" Her voice was small, almost smothered against his shoulder. "I don't want a broken heart, Marc, and you could easily tear mine to shreds."

He kissed her temple lovingly. "I doubt I could tire of you within your lifetime, cherie. Suppose I promise to stay with you as long as you want me? That would give you the control over how long our relationship lasts, no?"

She moved back just the tiniest bit to look into his eyes. "You would do that? You would yield part of your control to me?"

She seemed stunned by the idea as he nodded. "But how can you know that you'd want me beyond the next week or two? We could be totally incompatible and yet you'd promise to be with me for as long as I want? It doesn't make any sense, Marc."

He pressed her small hand to his heart. "But yet, it is how I feel. I've only known you a short time, but my heart feels as if it's known you forever. It's been waiting forever, just for you."

She backed off, and he let her go this time. "You're scaring me, Marc. You're beginning to sound the way Atticus does about Lissa."

His head shot up. "I do, don't I?" He mused on that idea for a moment. "But yet, I am still unsure as to whether you could be the One, cherie. To be honest, I doubt I will ever find my one and only, but I do admit to feeling drawn to you as to no other woman before."

"How does a vampire know when he's found his mate?" "I've heard tales, but Atticus told me that when he made love to Lissa for the first time, they joined more than just bodies.

They joined minds and souls. She was in his thoughts as he was in hers. " Marc was filled with awe at the very idea. "It must be heaven itself."

"So if we had s.e.x and it was just s.e.x, then it would prove we're not destined to be mates, right?"

Marc looked back to her, regret in his heart. "That's true. You either are my only one, or you're not." They both thought about that for a moment. It was a weighty concept.

"Okay," she finally said.

His eyes jumped to hers. "What exactly are you agreeing to, Kelly?"

She met his gaze with resignation, a bit of daring and a lot of uncertainty. It was an odd mix, but he felt something similar down deep in his heart, so he understood. This was a monumental moment. He could feel it.

"I can see how much this means to you and to be honest, I'm curious myself. I'm agreeing to have s.e.x with you. Once." She was emphatic on that point. "If it proves to be more than just s.e.x, we can take it from there, but I'm not agreeing to anything more until that question is settled."

Marc's blood heated as he stepped closer to her. "You do realize that when my kind makes love, we take the blood of our partners, don't you? We need both physical and psychic sustenance and psi energies are strongest at the moment of climax. I will want to drink of your essence as I make you come for me."

She seemed nearly mesmerized by his words and the hot look of his eyes. Mutely, she nodded. Memories of her cries of delight in their shared dream haunted him. He wanted to hear that again, for real this time.

"Then meet me in the burgundy bed chamber at midnight. I'll hurry to take care of my other tasks for this evening beforehand so I can spend the rest of the night devoted to your pleasure. If you don't appear, I'll know that you've changed your mind." He wanted to crow in triumph at the acceptance written on her features, but made an effort to control his emotions. It wouldn't do to gloat. Or jump for joy, either. That would be highly undignified, even if he did feel giddy inside.

"I'll be there," she whispered. "I don't renege on promises."

"Neither do I, ma cherie, and I promise that I will show you more pleasure this night than you have ever felt before. There are some advantages to having lived over six hundred years, and I plan to show you them all, one by one, starting tonight." He lifted her hand and kissed the back and then her palm with a lingering touch before letting go and leaving the room. He had a lot to do before he could make good on his promise, but he reveled in the fact that before this night was through, she would be his.

Atticus met him in the hall and waited for Marc to follow him into the nearby library. When the door shut behind them, Atticus turned to face Marc. He knew it was only right to let his old friend have a say in what happened in his house, but Marc would not be denied. He would make love to Kelly this night, regardless of what Atticus had to say.

"My mate won't like this, but I can see how much you need to settle the questions in your mind. I think we will have no peace in this house until you've had her. I ask only that you not hurt her."

"I would never." Marc was insulted, though surprised by Atticus's consent. Kelly had been a point of contention between them. He wasn't asking him not to take Kelly, but only not to hurt her.

"I don't think you would hurt her physically, Marc, but it's clear her heart is involved in this...whatever this is between you two." Atticus threw his hands up in the air. "Even I can see you could hurt her badly with just a harsh word. She's been moping around this house since you backed off teasing her. Lissa worries for her friend. She believes Kelly might be in love with you."

The thought of it sent a thrill through his being, but Marc also felt the weight of responsibility as he'd never felt it before. He felt hopeful and joyous, but also reverent, wanting to cherish the idea that Kelly might feel affection for him. And he'd done little to earn it.

"I'll keep your words in mind, but Atticus, you have to know I cannot ignore this any longer. I 've tried-" He pounded one fist into his other hand in frustration. "I've tried to stay away from her...to no avail. Better to settle the question, I think, before the impulse to take her becomes completely uncontainable." Atticus looked at him with grave eyes. "Just remember the vision, Marc. I won't be listening at the door, but I will be attentive."

"Thanks for that, at least." Marc grimaced at his friend. "I mean only to make love to her, not harm her emotionally or physically. That vision will not come to fruition this night. That I can promise you."

Atticus regarded him for a long moment before nodding. "All right then. I'll keep Lissa occupied so she doesn't worry. Enjoy your evening, Master LaTour." Atticus winked, bowed slightly and left Marc shaking his head at his friend's temerity.

Chapter Nine.

Minutes before midnight, Kelly sat in front of her vanity mirror, staring almost blankly at her pale reflection. She was downright scared of what the next hours would bring. Could she go through with it? Could she find the courage to meet the devastatingly handsome-not to mention persuasive-Master vampire in the burgundy bedroom? She wasn't sure, even after bathing, primping and perfuming herself for him.

She wanted him. That wasn't the problem. She wanted to know the feel of him, the length and breadth of his possession.

More than that, she wanted to know the man inside. The man who had roamed the Earth for more years than she could grasp. She wanted to let the wild side of herself free to glory in his carnality. Every time she looked at him, her temperature spiked with desire, but she did her best to repress those responses. She feared the heartbreak he could deal her so easily.

Just this once, she wanted to tempt fate, to play with fire, to dare enter the dragon 's lair and steal one small moment to treasure. One night.

Steeling herself, she rose and headed down the hall from her room to the burgundy guest room. This wing of the house was uninhabited except for her. It had been set up for the few mortal guests Atticus and Lissa sometimes entertained. Ostensibly the couple had the master suite in another wing of the mansion. In reality, they spent little time there. It had been sun -proofed just in case they found themselves above ground when dawn came, but they preferred the hidden, subterranean love nest Lissa had confided they'd created in one of the extensive cellars.

Lissa told her how Atticus and the other vampires felt safest when they knew they could sleep safe from the sun-preferably below ground in a cellar or cave during the day. That Marc would choose one of the sun-proofed guest rooms for their a.s.signation was proof of his desire. It was a significant gesture that he put himself at considerable risk to be with her. It was also a silent vote of trust. That alone was a staggering thought.

She paused for a moment before the ma.s.sive doors to the opulent guest room. Grasping the k.n.o.b, she turned it lightly. Before she knew it, she stood on the other side of the solid door, holding the handle behind her back as the door clicked shut. She leaned against it. Marc was already there.

He stood by the huge bed, lifting a decanter of the deep red wine he favored, pouring out two gla.s.ses. He smiled with a light of fierce satisfaction in his ancient eyes as he moved closer, holding one fragile stem out to her. She took it and sipped automatically, barely noticing the fine vintage as Marc stared at her over the rim of his own sparkling crystal gla.s.s.

"I'm glad you came." He toasted her before taking another long sip.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," Kelly admitted nervously, "but I want this. I want you. For tonight."

Marc growled low in his throat as he took her gla.s.s and placed it with his own on a small table by the door. Without further comment, he slid one strong arm around her waist and pulled her close to his hard body. He bent over her, nearly sweeping her completely off her feet as his mouth drifted down to nip, kiss and lick the sensitive skin under her ear, over her beating pulse.

Kelly gave in completely at the first touch of his wet tongue. The sharp feel of his lengthening teeth surprised her at first and sent shockwaves of excitement down her spine. It felt even better than the dream. Her legs could no longer support her. Marc 's strong arms carried her as if she weighed nothing. He deposited her on the bed with the gentlest of caresses as he removed her frilly white nightgown and let it drift to the floor.

He worshiped every inch of skin he revealed, never rushing, never really giving her a chance to catch her breath or object. He simply steamrolled over her sensibilities, doing things to her body she'd never allowed another man to do. Of course, she thought, he'd lived for centuries. He'd probably done things-s.e.xual things-she'd never even dreamed. Of course, that dream menage had been nothing short of shocking in the light of day. She'd bet he'd done that and more-for realwith other women.

The thought of him teaching her some of the forbidden things he knew sent her excitement level up another notch.

Marc couldn't get enough of the taste of her. She smelled like heaven and tasted divine. As he revealed her soft, pale body, he marveled at her flawless skin and her warm, womanly shape. He loved women of all shapes and sizes, but this one seemed as if she had been made just for him. She had everything he liked-large b.r.e.a.s.t.s with pouting nipples, a slightly rounded, womanly tummy, curvy hips and an a.s.s that just wouldn't quit. She was built like the women of his time, not the stick thin models of this age, and he was enjoying every moment of discovery. He'd seen her in the dream, of course, but the reality was much better, much clearer and distinct. The dream had been intense, but it could not begin to compare with the real thing.

He lay her back on the large bed and spread her legs, thoroughly enjoying the view as he leaned down and inhaled the fresh scent of her. When he licked her skin, he felt her jump. He growled in satisfaction, knowing exactly what he wanted to do to her this first time they would join. From her innocent yet eager responses, he'd bet good money that no man had ever gone down on her before. It made him feel good to know that he was the first to bring her this special treat.

He licked lower, stroking with his tongue, letting her feel just the tips of his fangs against her super -sensitive skin. She moaned as he drew his tongue down and into her, pushing within where he would soon invade with his hard c.o.c.k. He couldn't get over how soft she was and how good she tasted. She was the rarest of vintages, the finest of champagnes, light, airy and crisp on his tongue.

She made his senses swim. He focused on his goal, tonguing her with single-minded intensity until she trembled with need.