Night Fall: Truly, Madly... Deadly Part 19

Quentin reared back on his haunches, hooked his arms beneath her knees and drove deep, pounding relentlessly into her, lifting her hips from the bed with his powerful thrusts.

"Yes!" she cried out, and writhed beneath him, her channel convulsing around his shaft.

Quentin shouted and his hot, liquid release poured into her.

As the last spasms of her o.r.g.a.s.m milked him, Darcy reached for him again. "Hold me."

Easing downward, he covered her, once again holding his weight above her on his elbows. He rested his forehead on hers while he gasped for breath.

Darcy soothed him with her hands, caressing his moist, sweaty back. "Will it always be like this for us?"

"Always. I promise."

"Even when I grow older?"

He lifted his head and searched her gaze. "I'll love you when you're old and wrinkled and frail. And I'll always think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever held."

Darcy sighed and settled her hands in the small of his back. "I have a child to rear. School and PTA meetings. I'll need to be with him during the day until he's old enough not to need me."

"Do you think my love is so shallow that I won't wait?"

"I'll grow older. My body will change." She wrinkled her nose, trying to inject a little levity into the most important conversation they would ever have. "My b.o.o.bs will droop. People will wonder what a handsome thing like you is doing with a soccer mom."

Quentin's hand caressed her breast tenderly. "These little gems will remain perky into your dotage, madam."

Her heart twisted, and her throat dried. She had to tell him. "I may choose never to turn. What if I want to grow old and be a grandmother?"

Quentin's eyes misted. "I'll hold you every night and love you gently until the day you die, and then I'll watch over our child and her children. I won't ever stop loving you, Darcy."

Tears streaked down the side of her face, and she sobbed, clutching at his shoulders. When the storm pa.s.sed, she sniffed and gave little laugh. "Look at us, blubbering like babies."

He smiled tenderly and smoothed the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips.

"You know, I have the oddest craving for Cookies N' Cream."

Quentin closed his eyes, a look of intense euphoria on his face. "Yes, with liver chasers."

Darcy's face stretched into a grin. "Was that what you were hiding in the kitchen? Sympathy cravings?"

His frown didn't dim her mirth. "It's not funny. I'm afraid what other indignities the next nine months will hold."

Darcy laughed. "I can see you in the delivery room. We'll need two beds."

His wide-eyed expression held horror. "Do you think so? b.u.g.g.e.r me!"

She grew serious again. "What about Joe?" she asked. "Can you share our child with him?"

"I'm resigned that he'll be a part of our lives, if he wants it. But I will not share a wife."

Wife? Blood pounded in her ears. Afraid she might start crying again, she said, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

"No. I'm telling you what will be."

Warmth suffused her cheeks. "I like it when you get all mastery."

His eyebrow rose.

The smirk she loved tipped the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I can give you mastery, love. Shall I show you?" He loomed over her.

Her palm against his shoulder, she held him back. "One more question first."

He waited, his expression alert.

"Will our son be born in Vero, or in Seattle?"

The smirk deepened. "Seeing as we both work for the SU, I think that question is already answered."

She narrowed her eyes. "You and Captain Springer have been doing a lot of talking while I was out."

"We're like this," he said, crossing his fingers. "Besides, did I ever tell you how much I detest the cold?"

"Some team members won't be very happy about a vampire joining the team permanently."

"Three vampires, love. And Max will just have to get over it."

"Three?" Her thoughts went to the new arrivals.

"Emmy's determined to be a doting aunt. And Dylan and I have a mind to inst.i.tute a governing council of vampires to help keep the peace."

"So, I'm marrying a politician?"

"You're marrying a Master. Think you can handle it?"

Her hand crept around his c.o.c.k. "I already am."

About Delilah Devlin

Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred forty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora's Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.

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From Knight in Transition, Night Fall series, Book 3

The small sign in the cafe window read: Welcome Vampires and Sanguinarians! (No blood products provided-none permitted on premises! The Management).

Joe Garcia snorted. Every human in the place was a walking, breathing blood product-a portable soda fountain for the Fanged Ones.

He pushed through the gla.s.s door and tried to dampen the hope that rose in his chest, causing his heart to beat faster and his hands to sweat. Thus far, he'd met only disappointment in his long search. This might be just another dead end-the last one he could afford before his cash ran out and his credit card was maxed.

Professor Carlson was his last hope.

Inside the cafe, enticing aromas a.s.sailed him. The smell of roasted coffee beans, which had been his life's blood in another existence, was overlaid with the tangy scent of the real thing-the warm, viscous red stuff. The latter reminded him he hadn't fed this evening, and hunger gnawed at his belly, making him edgy and irritable.

And something else enticed him. Something dark and sensual perfumed by a female musk with a tincture so unique it immediately sent a curl of heat to his groin.

He walked past the coffee bar without acknowledging the barrista's greeting and wound his way through the tables, ignoring the human appetizers. His gaze was fixed on a menu board at the entrance of a roped-off area in the back that read, "Vampire Survey Here". An arrow pointed down to a table laden with a stack of pamphlets.

He brushed past the table, searching the back of the restaurant for his quarry.

"Sir, are you here 'bout da survey Professor Carlson is conductin'?"

Joe turned toward the voice flavored with a deep Louisianan accent. A pleasant-faced girl with black corkscrew curls all around her head sat at a table near the cordoned entrance.

He bit back the rude retort that immediately came to mind and answered, "Yes. I need to speak with her."

"Well, you'll have to complete a screenin' survey first," she said pleasantly but firmly, holding up a stapled doc.u.ment.

Joe sighed and accepted the papers. What the h.e.l.l? Five more minutes wouldn't kill him.

"Do you have a pencil?" she asked. When he shook his head, she gave him a superior smile and extended a short, sharpened pencil.

Joe didn't like her att.i.tude one bit, so he reached for her hand, running his fingers over her palm before taking it.

Her smile slipped and Joe could well imagine her thoughts. Another vampire wannabe was. .h.i.tting on her. He smiled and let her see his teeth.

Her eyes narrowed and a single brow rose. She wasn't impressed.

That actually gave Joe hope he was in the right place after all. His sharp fangs hadn't fazed her.

"You can take a seat with the other guy," she said, indicating the first booth along the back wall.

Joe walked over and slid across the vinyl seat opposite a young man dressed in black leather and sporting no less than five facial piercings. The piercings glittered like tinsel in the dim light, and Joe wondered how the kid could stand leather in May-New Orleans was already sweltering, even at night.

Turning over the top page of his survey, Joe quickly scanned the questions. He hoped like h.e.l.l they were only meant to screen out the weirdoes and pretenders. Otherwise, he was screwed.

He wet the tip of his pencil on his tongue and read the first question.

"Do you consider yourself a Vampire or a Sanguinarian?"

Since he had no clue what a Sanguinarian was, he checked, "Vampire."

"If you checked 'Vampire', skip to question 6."

Maybe this wouldn't take so long after all.

In the middle of the page, he found 6. "How often do you have the urge to drink blood?"

He checked the block beside, "More than three times a day." Three times a night would be more accurate.

"How often do you drink blood?"

"Once a day."

"Do you drink your own blood?"

"What would be the point?" he muttered, and checked "No."

When he reached the question, "Do you drink blood during s.e.xual encounters?", he'd had enough.

He tossed the survey to the table and started to rise.

"She won't see you unless you finish the survey," Metal Boy said, without looking up from his form.

"She'll see me."

The young man's mouth twisted into a sneer. "You'll have to wait your turn. I was here first."

Joe lifted his lips and showed him his fangs.