"Oh my God," she breathed, arching beneath him for more of the same.
Mac chuckled against her warm skin. He kissed the tender skin of her throat, eliciting a purr. "Oh my Goddess...." he corrected.
"W-w-what?" She stammered.
He raised himself onto his elbows to gaze into her lust-dazed eyes. "Goddess." He dropped a kiss onto her chin. "It is 'Oh my Goddess', not God." He trailed kisses along her jaw line.
"Really?" she smiled "Please explain."
"Well, as a matter of...Oh my G-g-god..." His train of thought went south to his groin as her thighs tightened on his hips and she mimicked his rolling motions. Jennifer had great thighs. It came from all the horseback riding she used to do. And if he had it his way, those luscious thighs were soon to be thrown over his shoulders.
"What were you saying?" An amused voice pulled his attention from his groin back to the woman beneath him.
Mac smiled into her beautiful eyes, her expression self-satisfied, aroused. "I said, I will have you begging for mercy..." And he renewed his attack on her exposed flesh. Trailing kisses down her throat, he journeyed into the valley of her breasts and across the soft terrain of her belly. Reaching the band of her skirt, he grasped the elastic. He raised her hips and slid the skirt down her thighs and over her feet, tossing it carelessly behind him.
Reapplying himself to the task, he kissed and stroked the soft skin of her belly and resumed his leisurely journey down her skin. Pausing to tease her belly button, he dipped his tongue into the indentation, wringing a gasp from her. Smiling against her skin, he pressed tiny kisses against her belly, moving ever lower until he reached the narrow velvet band of her panties.
Jennifer tensed beneath his hands as he reached the band of her drawers. He nudged the band down, covering the revealed skin with damp, open-mouthed kisses designed to entice and arouse.
"Mac," she squeaked as his hand intimately cupped her.
"Mmm..." he growled against her skin.
"I think..."
"That right there is your problem." He shifted his body until he was sitting on his heels between her spread thighs. "You think too much," he drew his hand up her thigh to her knee and then down again. From the dilation of her pupils, his stroking was mesmerizing and arousing her at the same time. "You need to quit talking and start feeling. Just let yourself go."
He hooked a finger in the wide lace band at the top of her silk stockings. "I really do like these," he commented. "They're very sexy but they have to go." He rolled them down her thigh, massaging each tender inch of her skin, until her leg fell limp to the bed. Then he switched his attention to her other leg lavishing the same attention upon it also until she was silently trembling and completely open and vulnerable before him.
Mac cupped her tenderly, pleased to find the rich ruby velvet damp with her dew. Sliding one finger past the band that circled one leg, he slipped a finger into the prize that awaited him. Lightly he brushed the hard bit of flesh at the center of her being and was rewarded as a strangled cry was wrenched from her. He wanted to see her, all of her, now. He wanted her completely bare beneath him as she came, and he wanted to watch her find fulfillment.
He stripped her of the velvet panties, her passion-filled eyes watching his every move. Raising them to his mouth, he watched her eyes widen as his tongue snaked out to taste her on the rough velvet. Instantly, a shudder racked his body as her salty sweet taste hit him. His erection lunged against the zipper of his jeans and he wondered for a second if the worn denim could contain him for much longer. Wincing, he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. There wasn't one, short of burying himself inside her.
A sigh huffed out. The only other way to relieve the discomfort was to strip off his pants and if he did that he would take her here and now. Nothing could stop him if he did. But this time wasn't about him. It was about her, for her and her alone.
Tossing her panties over his shoulder to join the rest of her discarded clothing, he reached down to caress the wiry curls that covered her feminine mound. Her hips shifted forward as he slipped his fingers into the well of honey that awaited him. A cry from Jennifer was hastily muffled as he cautiously inserted one thick finger. A groan escaped him as her body clasped around him, welcoming him and urging him onward. She was as tight as a virgin. When he did bury himself in her, he would be lucky to last more than a few strokes. Pausing in his delicious torture, he rose over her, his fingers still buried in her.
"What do you desire Jennifer?" he whispered, his voice sounded oddly strained and very unlike himself.
Her lust-drugged gaze met his. "You."
"You're mine." He shifted into position so that her spread thighs were draped over his parted ones, leaving her completely opened to his gaze and his touch. "Mine and only mine." Pressing his fingers deeper within her, he stroked her damp flesh with long even strokes as she writhed on the bed, her body arching, forcing his fingers deeper. Within seconds she peaked, her cries and her scent filling the room, her hands clawing at the bed covers as she convulsed around his fingers. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
As a lover, he knew his ability to please a woman was legendary, and over the long span of his life he had pleased thousands of them. Indeed, he'd made it a life's mission to ruin every woman he touched for any other man who came after. But none of the other women ever meant to him what this one did.
His gazed locked with her stunned one. Slowly he withdrew his hand from her body. Stretching from his cramped position, he settled himself between her thighs bringing his face on level with hers. Lightly he traced her lips with his damp fingers memorizing their shape, their fullness as she watched him with sated eyes. She shifted her hips beneath him and his erection surged painfully. He wondered if he was going to have a permanent imprint of a zipper on his manhood.
"Say it," he whispered, gently parting her lips, allowing her a taste of her own arousal. He groaned as her soft, warm tongue touched his fingertip, tasting, caressing. "Say you're mine," he growled.
She reached for his hand and pulled it away from her lips. "I'm yours, Mac," her eyes glittered with unshed tears. "I've always been yours."
Mac couldn't speak, his triumph caught in his throat. Silently he dipped his head to kiss the woman beneath him. Putting into that kiss what he wouldn't dare say to her.
* * *
Chapter 5
Outside Zarnesti, Romania
Shai tensed as she caught sight of Mikhail entering the Council chamber. "What's he doing here?" she snarled.
"He's allowed to speak in his own defense," Val said dryly.
"Defense," Shai snapped. Anger vibrated through her body, causing a slight tremor in her hands as she clenched them together. She stared hard at the smiling blond vampire, hatred curdling in her soul, as he shook hands and exchanged greetings with several spectators in the gallery behind her. "He should he drawn and quartered."
She shifted restlessly, the urge to lunge for Mikhail's throat overpowering. The few feet separating them could be easily covered. It would just take...
Val wrapped his long fingers around her wrist. Instantly she stilled and looked up into his midnight blue eyes. An odd melting feeling hit her square in the chest.
"The Council will stand for no such foolishness Shai." His voice was deadly serious. "Hold your peace for now, my bloody-thirsty love. We shall see what he has to say for himself." Val kissed her on the tip of her nose. Releasing her wrist, he twined his fingers with hers, gently stroking her skin with his thumb.
She snorted as his calming touch sent ribbons of relaxation through her body. "I don't care what he has to say," she replied stiffly, returning her attention to her surroundings.
Voices in a multitude of languages ebbed and flowed around her. According to Val, the Council chamber had changed very little in the past 800 years. Carved into the heart of Kings Stone deep in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, the round room resembled a courtroom complete with gallery and balcony s
eating that was rapidly filling to overflowing. In place of the jury and judge's boxes, there was a dais with five high- backed chairs arranged in a semi-circle. Intricately carved, the mahogany backrests and wide comfortable seats gleamed from years of polish in the candlelight. Numerous sconces filled the room with a golden glow and the scent of melted wax mingled with sandalwood incense.
A soft laugh drew her attention and Shai glanced over at Mikhail as he solicitously helped Gabrielle DesNoir into her seat. For the first time in the years she'd known of her existence, Gaby looked almost normal. Her hair was now a rich mink brown pulled into a soft chignon at the nape of her neck. Her ripe body was clad in a feminine gray suit that disguised her generous curves. Pearls glowed softly at her ears and around her throat. She looked more like an up-and-coming young executive than the mistress of a sadistic killer. It just proved that even the sickest people could look perfectly normal.
Shai looked at Mikhail, and was startled to find his gaze upon her. Forcing the slightest of smiles to her lips, she tipped her head in his direction. She was secretly glad to see Mikhail's astonishment at her overture. His eyes narrowed.
The room quieted as the massive mahogany doors near the dais creaked open. The Council filed into the preternaturally still room. A small woman, dressed simply in an ivory Chanel suit and lustrous pearls almost identical to Gaby's, was the first through the door. With her olive-toned skin and shiny black hair she looked vaguely Greek in descent.
A man dressed completely in white with skin and hair to match followed her closely. An albino vampire? So it would seem. Beside him walked a mortal male child who looked to be about six years old. The Albino's slim hand lay on the child's shoulder, curled possessively over the fine bones. The child was neatly dressed in a black suit and shiny shoes, his dark eyes solemn. With his dark brown hair neatly combed back from his rather narrow face, he looked absurdly healthy in comparison to the dead man he walked alongside.
Shai leaned over and whispered to Val, "What is a human child doing here?"
"Edward, the albino, is a mute. The child is telepathic, a gifted medium. Edward can speak through the child and communicate with the outside world."
She was aghast. "What about his parents?"
"They sold him to Edward," Val's tone expressed his distaste.
"How long has this been going on?"
"About two years."
She sat back and scowled at the albino. Her heart gave an odd little twist as she looked at the child. He was physically beautiful but his eyes were ancient in contrast to his childish face.
Another man entered the room, simply dressed in tight black velvet pants and a flowing white silk shirt. His thick ginger-colored hair flowed down his back and his eyes were a most shocking shade of violet. Those otherworldly eyes scanned the assembled crowd, assessing those gathered, and Shai knew that this man did not miss a thing. He assumed his seat, his big body sprawled in the chair as if it were too much effort to sit up.
A tiny woman followed him, with honey blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. Dressed in a pale pink dress, she looked like an exquisite china doll following the ginger-haired giant. Shai felt Val stiffen as the woman stepped up onto the dais and assumed her seat. She glanced at him curiously but his face was impassive.
The Council Elder, Alexandre Saint-Juste, entered last and furtive whispers broke out from various parts of the room. A black Armani suit fit his tall, broad body to perfection, set off by a white shirt and a tie that matched the cool color of his piercing green eyes. With easy fluid movements, he climbed the dais and took the center chair. He quieted the whispered voices with a single glance. Silence reigned while everyone held their breath in anticipation of his words. No one moved a muscle. Alexandre remained silent as he scanned the room. His gaze lit on every face as if to commit each one to memory before moving on, allowing the tension to build until Shai wanted to scream. Finally he spoke.
"Valentin," his voiced flowed out into the room and swept across her skin like a cool breeze, raising goose bumps. "You have brought forth charges of abduction of a vampire and attempted rape of a revenant against Mikhail. What say you?"
Giving her hand a quick squeeze, Val rose from his seat and took the requisite three steps forward. "I stand by these charges."
Alexandre gave a sharp nod and waved a hand toward the scribe. The somewhat bookish woman seated on the far right side of the room nodded in response and noted the charges in a massive leather tome. Her pen flew furiously across the page. "Mikhail, you have heard the charges levied against you by your master Valentin. What say you?"
Mikhail rose from his seat. Shai struggled to contain the bile that churned in her stomach as the urbane vampire took his three steps forward. Dressed in fine ivory linen trousers and matching jacket with a white silk shirt, he looked like an angel. She knew better.
"I am innocent of these charges." He spoke clearly; ensuring everyone in the packed room heard him.
At his words, frantic whispers broke out behind her. Alexandre's compelling gaze silenced them.
"I find these charges to be slanderous in the extreme..." Mikhail began.
"Silence, Mikhail," Alexandre ordered. "You will have your chance to speak. For now, sit down and observe."
Titters sounded with Alexandre's dismissive tone. She rubbed her hand over her lips to hide her amusement at Mikhail's thunderstruck expression, which abruptly turned to ill-concealed rage.
If looks could kill, Alexandre Saint-Juste would have a hole in him the size of a dinner plate. Shai glanced at the stone-faced Alexandre. His eyes were hooded, his face expressionless. Something interesting was afoot.
Quickly, Mikhail recovered his composure and offered the Council an abbreviated bow before he took his seat once again.
"Valentin, please explain the circumstances of these charges," Saint-Juste commanded.
"I received word early yesterday evening that Miranda of Glencoe had been abducted from a friend's home in Cornwall. According to Renault, Miranda was using Damien St. James' home for a few days to do some research. Sinjin wasn't in residence at the time. Renault arrived on the scene as they fled with Miranda in tow. In the house he found signs of a struggle and a used syringe." Val paused as frantic whispers broke out in the gallery.
Alexandre glared at the crowd until they settled into silence. He nodded for Val to continue.
"Jennifer Beaumont heard of this crime and immediately set out for Mikhail's manor house outside Manchester. Upon her arrival she found Mikhail entertaining Ms. DesNoir in the library. She demanded to know what had happened to Miranda and at which point Mikhail admitted to the crime. Jennifer asked that she be allowed to see Miranda upon which time Mikhail led her to the old dungeon of the original manse where Miranda is being held.
"Jennifer stated that Miranda has been horribly abused at Mikhail's hands." Val paused again, this time swallowing audibly. Anger radiated from every tense inch of his body. "It's at this point Mikhail attempted to rape Jennifer; failing that he fed from her against her will."
Voices broke out in the gallery once again causing Alexandre to lunge to his feet. "There will be no more interruptions," he commanded, "or I will expel everyone from this chamber and conduct these proceedings in private."
Shai stifled a grin as the gallery grew still. Vampires were so predictable. Nothing could whip a group of preternatural killers into submission faster than the threat of taking the unfolding drama away from them. They did love their little intrigues.
The head of the Council settled in his seat again and indicated for Val to finish his statement.
Val glanced at the unperturbed Mikhail. "It is my charge that Mikhail and his mistress Gabrielle DesNoir kidnapped Miranda in an attempt to exact retribution for some imagined slight against them, presumably perpetrated by me."
Tears stung Shai's eyes as she watched her lover. He stood strong and solid in his convictions. Love welled within her as she watched his proud profile. He was putting his life and h
is reputation on the line in order to stop the damage Mikhail was inflicting. She loved him more at the moment than she ever had before. Silence cloaked the room as he finished.
"Do you have any reason to doubt the word of this Renault and Jennifer Beaumont?" Alexandre asked.
"None whatsoever," Val replied.
"Isn't Jennifer Beaumont one of Mikhail's revenants?" The sloe-eyed Grecian looking woman spoke, her accent thick, rendering her words almost unrecognizable.
"Cassiopeia," Val tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Yes she is."
"Is it not possible this could be a case of...how you say...sour grapes?" She shrugged, her black eyes shining in the candlelight. "Mikhail takes the beautiful DesNoir woman as his own and tosses this Jennifer out in the cold...how you say...like yesterday's trash?" Her voice trailed off as she waved her hand as if to dismiss Jennifer's charges.
Shai stiffened, throwing darts at Cassiopeia with her eyes.
Val shook his head, his voice calm, "That's not how it was at all. Jennifer left Mikhail many years ago. She bears him no grudge and she wants nothing to do with him. She has stated on several occasions that Gabrielle is more than welcome to Mikhail."
"Where is Jennifer, Valentin? Can we not hear this from her own lips?" The tiny blonde woman asked.
"Bliss," Val acknowledged her question with a nod. "She's recovering from her injuries. I thought it best if she remained in a safe place for the time being. She doesn't need the added stress of appearing here."
Cassiopeia shrugged, her voice disdainful. "I say, one who does not appear before us has something to hide from the Council." Her eyes glittered with barely concealed triumph as she stared at Valentin.
Shai scowled. Just how many enemies did her lover have? It seemed like they were always tripping over one or another of them. Then again she knew how infuriating Val could be at times, especially to those who were in the wrong.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 2 Page 7