“I will. Soon.”
His weight shifted once more and she felt the silken brush of his hair between her legs. Then something cool swathed a path across her pussy lips and she cried out as the sensation rocked her soul.
“So sweet.” Nick’s mouth whispered against her hot flesh as his tongue delved and licked and delved once more. “There. There it is. Your clit. That little pearl of yours that hardens and demands I do this…”
He tongued her clit with expert precision, instinctively knowing where to stroke, where to press and where to avoid.
She was sobbing now, her legs thrashing against his back, her body tense as a bowstring. “Nick…” Her breath left her lungs in a rush as sensation upon sensation flooded her and started the burn at the base of her spine. “Nick—it’s happening—”
“Yes, Verity. Come. Come for me. Let me taste you, feel you coming on my tongue…”
Nick pushed her harder, finding the most intimate places to tease and arouse and finally thrusting his tongue deep inside her.
It was all she could take. With a howl of ecstasy she shattered, coming in waves of rippling brilliance, blinded by her own orgasm and conscious of nothing but Nick’s face pressed hard against her pussy.
His tongue moved within her, coaxing her orgasm higher and she gasped as another shudder racked her body. “Niiiiiick…”
He left her before the climax passed, only to replace his tongue with his cock. “Now, love. Let’s ride together…”
The shivers had barely eased when her emptiness was filled once more, this time by a huge, cool length of flesh that slid easily between her sensitive folds of flesh.
“I feel you coming still, Verity. Your body is caressing me. Can you feel it?”
She fought for some semblance of sanity. “I feel nothing but you, Nick.”
“So tell me.” He began a smooth easy rhythm, sliding in and out of her, gently thrusting then withdrawing, only to return once more. “Tell me how it feels to have my cock doing this to you. I’ve often wondered.”
“I-I…” She stuttered, at a loss to describe the indescribable. “It’s…you’re cool, Nick. Cool and big inside me. You stretch me a little and it feels so good when you do. Like there was a hole in there that only your cock can fill. A place only your cock can touch. An emptiness that disappeared once you came into me.”
She swallowed past the obstruction in her throat that her emotions had created. “Now you tell me how it feels to be inside me.”
Never missing a stroke of his steady thrusting, Nick ran his hands teasingly across her stomach below her navel, just riffling the top of her pussy hair. “It’s like…hmm…let me see.” He nudged his cock a little deeper this time, keeping her simmering around him. Incredibly her arousal had not diminished, even though she’d already experienced one orgasm a short while before. She parted her thighs as wide as she could and waited for his answer.
“‘Tis like fucking a fire, Verity. Your sheath is flames and heat and boiling silk around my cock. A wondrous feel, love. Your muscles grasp me and tug at my skin, adding to the incredible sensation I get from doing this—” He plunged ever deeper, faster now, making sure to graze her pussy with his body as he forced his cock home.
The abrasion was small but enough to reawaken her clit and send the telltale shivers of orgasm building once more. As if he sensed it, he slowed.
“Oh Nick…” She choked out his name.
“I know. I can feel you on the edge. But you will not fall off. Not yet. Not until I’m ready to let you. To fall with you.”
She simmered, a pot trembling on the brink of boiling. Her body thrummed with the onset of her climax and she grasped at whatever would hold her anchored beneath him.
“Ouch.” She jumped.
“Did I hurt you?” Nick paused.
“No, I caught my finger on a branch. ‘Tis nothing.”
The slow loving began again and she felt Nick reach for her arm, pulling her hand to his lips. “Let me see.”
It really was a mere scratch, the pain quickly obliterated by Nick and his cock. But her senses reeled as his lips and tongue found the little wound. She stilled as she felt the two long fangs lying over his skin, brushing her palm.
And heard his indrawn breath as he tasted her, really tasted her, for the first time. It was a thrill unparalleled, this knowledge that their fucking encompassed so much more than just their bodies.
She held her breath and waited.
Nick was blinded now, as much as Verity, but not by the darkness.
The taste of her blood had sent a rush of sizzling heat into his mouth that swamped his brain and flooded his body. He wanted to rip into her wrist, to let her essence pump hotly down his throat, emptying her so that he could fill her with his come and do it all over again.
His cock shuddered and swelled to its full capacity, ready to explode within her heat. Fueled by the taste of her on his tongue, the sense of her body encompassed him, drowning him in a wave of sexual desire that he’d never imagined could exist—or that he could possibly survive.
She moaned softly as he hammered into her, savage now, needing desperately to leave his mark on her, to claim her as his for eternity. He lost the trappings of gentleness, discarded the slow loving in favor of hard fucking.
And she was right there with him. He tried to pull away from her hand but she thrust it deeper into his mouth, a gesture that begged him to drink more from her.
He wanted to. Oh how he wanted to. But something held him back from that ultimate possession. A fear that he would harm her, or turn her away from him in disgust. She might know what he was, but the full import of that knowledge—well, it was too soon.
This would have to suffice for this night, at least. And this was proving to be no small experience. Burning with a surprising heat, Nick pushed Verity to her peak and beyond. His cock seemed a living entity within her, sliding in and out with a speed that surprised even him. He crashed into her clit, his balls slapping her body in a counterpoint that excited them both.
She was sobbing her delight, mewling senseless sounds erupting from her throat. They coalesced into a scream as she climaxed, muscles fierce and taut, going into violent spasms around his cock.
He could not hold back, not now, not when Verity flooded his soul along with his body. He sucked hard on her tiny scratch, sipping the blood, letting it sizzle over his tongue and down his throat to settle deep in the recesses of his soul.
Then he followed her into the void.
A massive explosion surprised a cry from his lips. His head jerked backward, leaving her hand wet with his saliva. His body bowed, his balls locked tight beneath his cock and he flooded her, great bursts of come draining him for what felt like hours on end.
His orgasm found an answering passion—her sheath milked him, encouraged him, stimulating them both with ripples and aftershocks. His breath deserted him, his mind blanked out and his fangs—the pain was exquisite.
He needed to feed from Verity. Desperately.
But still something held him back.
Finally, limp and wet, he slithered from her body, crashing to the pine boughs beside her, listening to her panting breaths as she fought to recover from her own fall into bliss.
He rolled onto one side and tiredly reached for the pale shadow that was her face. “Are you all right?”
She turned her cheek into his palm, nestling there and closing her eyes. “Nick. Oh Nick.”
He smiled. “I’ll assume that means yes.”
A hand lifted and brushed his. “Yes. I’m so all right. That was…”
“It was. For me too.”
He lay back, sensing that dawn was near. “Verity, I shall sleep by daybreak. ‘Tis a cold sleep that many could mistake for death. It’s the way I avoid the sunlight and the danger from its rays. You cannot wake me once I slumber.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I understand. It makes sense. Quite logical in fact.”
She snuggled in to his
body. “I will stay and guard you while you sleep.”
He chuckled. “You will rest yourself, or I shall think myself a failure as a lover.”
She laughed back. “Never that, Nick. Never.”
Her breath was warm on his shoulder—a comfort he’d never expected. “I’m glad you will stay with me, love. We shall journey—I am going south. There’s something I must do…” He yawned.
Verity moved suddenly. “Damn it. Damn damn damn.”
“What?”
“I forgot. In my haste to pack I forgot it.”
Nick struggled with the fog that began to cloud his mind, signaling the onset of his sleep. “What did you forget? It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but it does, Nick. It does. All my profits from the Midnight Shadows. I have a bag with my worldly wealth. And I can’t believe I forgot it. I must go back…”
A chill of concern swept over Nick. “No, Verity. No. You must not go back. You do not need this…we can…we shall…” The effort to form words was huge and Nick knew he was slurring his speech.
A pox on this existence. Fuck my predictable death each morning.
Anger and fear warred with the unstoppable need to sleep. “Verity, stay. Please. Wait ‘til darkness comes again…please…”
Verity brushed his chest soothingly. “I will be back before you awaken, my love. Never fear.”
He was gone, asleep in his own strange world. She leaned over and dropped a kiss on his lips, seeing his silhouette now as dawn shed tiny fingers of light over their barrow and through the distant entrance.
She had to retrieve her purse. She’d worked too long and too hard to leave it all behind. Anyway, her room would doubtless be aired out after her absence was noted. The discovery of the little cache of gems would give rise to questions, without doubt. They might even be recognized as part of the loot from recent nighttime robberies.
She would not—could not—let that happen. All she possessed was the one diamond pendant, a souvenir of her last ride with the Midnight Shadows. If she was to build any kind of life with Nick, they would need more. Much more. Her carefully hoarded little treasure would be of great use now, for God knew when they’d find other sources of funds.
Slowly, trying to keep silent even though she knew she’d not awaken Nick, Verity gathered up her clothes and dressed herself as best she could. It was still early—she could make it back to the Towers, creep in with nobody knowing and be gone with her little hoard before anyone was any the wiser.
It tore at her heart to leave Nick like this. He looked defenseless in sleep, not moving, skin cool—it was as he had said. A stranger, finding him like this, could be forgiven for assuming him to be a corpse.
She leaned over to look at him, memorize his dear face. There were no fangs now, no sign that this man was so much more than a man in so many ways. She grinned as she wondered how many other wonderful skills he possessed.
And how much fun it was going to be to find out.
Inordinately tidy, Verity folded Nick’s clothes for him and covered him with his own worn cloak. He’d said they would head to the south. She wondered what might await them there and why he was going.
Oh well. They could talk about this and so much more when she returned.
She also spared a highly inappropriate thought for the whip coiled on her saddle. Blushing, she pulled on her gloves.
“Rest well, Nick my love. Rest well. You will need your strength, I’m thinking.” Strangely enough, she did not feel the effects of lethargy. She was charged, energized, filled with the knowledge that Nick Blaine cared for her, called her his “love”.
It was all the stimulant she needed to send her out of their lair and squinting into the early sunrise. One last stealthy visit to the Towers and she’d be free.
Free to be with the man she loved. The man she’d always loved.
Nick Blaine. Vampire.
She giggled quietly as she mounted, imagining the faces if he ever had that imprinted on a visiting card.
Nick Blaine. Lover.
Yes, much better.
The smile stayed on her lips as she headed back to the grey fortress that was FitzAdams Towers.
Strangely enough, Nick felt a smile on his own lips as he awoke at sunset. The taste of Verity was still strong in his mouth and the small cave was redolent with it. A blend of sex, his come and her body. Truly a perfume like no other. And one he’d be content to wake to for the rest of whatever life he had left.
His hand automatically reached beside him to find—emptiness. He stretched and sat up. Perhaps Verity was outside. Women probably needed privacy for things men simply required a tree for.
He stood and slipped into his breeches and shirt. “Verity?” He kept his voice low-pitched, the habits of caution deeply ingrained on his behavior.
Nothing responded, just the chirp of birds as they settled for the night and the distant hoot of an owl just waking from its rest. Nick had often thought that they shared a common bond, vampires and owls.
But tonight he could not focus on the abstract relationships between species. He just wanted Verity.
And she was nowhere to be found.
He gritted his teeth and ran his mind over their last conversation before he’d fallen asleep. FitzAdams Towers. She’d needed something—forgotten something—he thought he’d made her promise to stay with him.
She’d said she’d guard him.
So where was she?
An icy dread began to churn within Nick. A foreboding, a sixth-sense, an urge to ride full tilt to the Towers and demand if anybody had seen Verity.
He held his fears in check and methodically surveyed his surroundings, ears alert for the slightest sound that would tell him his woman was near.
Again—nothing.
This was not good. He’d slept away a whole day—close on ten hours or so of autumn daylight. If she had gone back to the Towers, there’d been ample time for her to return with whatever it was she’d left behind.
Concern gnawed at Nick. He knew she’d come back to him if she could. There was no question in his mind on that matter. So should he search for her? Or wait here, a place she knew and could find easily?
There was no answer.
He headed for the nearby clearing and his horse. There was no sign of Verity’s mare, or her saddle. So she’d ridden back and not yet returned. And given the time lapse between her departure and Nick’s awakening—well, things looked bleak indeed.
Scarcely realizing what he did, Nick found himself saddling his mount. He simply could not sit, inactive, and wait. It was not in his nature—never had been. He wanted Verity. Wanted to hold her tight, protect her, know she was safe in his arms.
And the pain of knowing she wasn’t safe in his arms was astounding. This must be what love is all about. Not just the joys but the agonies as well. Fuck it.
Nick climbed into the saddle and turned the horse toward the Towers. That’s where she’d gone…that’s where he’d find her.
He refused to consider any other possibility.
Chapter Twelve
Nick circled the grey and forbidding structure for a third time. Used to moving silently through the mortal world, he’d made his way without incident to FitzAdams Towers, only to remain concealed, watching, hoping for a glimpse of Verity.
There were plenty of lights shining from behind closed curtains. Some of which he knew came from Isolde’s suite. Vainly he looked for lights in the upper reaches—the servant’s quarters.
But other than the occasional flicker of a candle, all was dark.
As dark as his thoughts.
Where was she? She had to be in there somewhere. Servants were bustling back and forth in front of the large French doors that led to the extensive gardens—they were uncurtained and he could see inside quite clearly on one of his circulatory perambulations.
Trays of drinks were being ferried somewhere, but not the formal dining room. That was empty.
Nick sighed. There were
so many rooms, so many places she could be hiding. Perhaps that was it—perhaps she’d delayed too long and was now awaiting the silence of the wee hours to make her escape.
Clinging to that hope, Nick settled in the best spot he could find. A small rise not far from the Towers, which offered a good vista of the surrounding landscape. If a rider left the grounds, Nick would see him. Or her.
Thoughts of Verity plagued him. Had he done her an ill turn by asking her to stay with him? To travel with him? Selfishly he could not imagine being without her anymore. And he was used to putting his own wants—few though they were—before any reasoned consideration.
Yet what a woman she was! She’d led a life that would have quenched the spirit of many other women. Gently bred, she’d triumphed over adversity, found herself a place to survive and even led a band of highwaymen in an attempt to improve their lot—and her own.
She was fearless yet delicate. Sexually aware and capable of a fiery passion that incredibly matched his own. She liked her lovemaking rough and he’d seen her skill with her whip. She’d not fainted or swooned when he’d told her his tale, but met his ardor with a hunger and desire that had overwhelmed him and sent him riding through their night on a wave of ecstasy.
He grimaced. Byron would be proud of him for that highly flowered turn of phrase.
Nick had, many years ago, been a believer in the vagaries of fate. If something happened, it happened for a reason. Not one immediately obvious to the participants, but a reason nonetheless. He’d not found any proof to the contrary.
Until Thérèse.
Her savage act had transformed him into what he now was. Where was the hand of fate in that deed? How had that fit into the mighty plan he’d once believed ruled them all? Was he being punished for some transgression? Taught the hardest of lessons—that life existed on other planes, some good some—evil?
He’d abandoned his youthful idealism, forced himself to come to terms with the present circumstances and made his way into the darkness. Now, weary and at the end of his patience—he’d found Verity.
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