Eliza closed her eyes against the sensations rocketing through her body as he continued to drive into her and worked at her clit, stroking and rubbing until she was writhing beneath him, begging for release.
Against the line of her collarbone came the slow drag of lethal fangs. Moving ever higher to match the rise to the pinnacle of her climax. He paused at the crook of her neck, almost expectant, as with another strong thrust and caress of her clit, she came, screaming his name.
Pleasure exploded through her body just a second before he sank his fangs deep into her neck, melding the pain of the bite with her passion. From that spot on her neck came a wave of warmth and awareness, flooding her body with an overload of sensations.
He moved his hips again, drawing out her orgasm, and every little nuance of that action registered. The wet slide of his cock along the walls of her vagina. The crispness of his hair against her belly and thighs. His hard midsection pressing her down into the mattress with each thrust as his mouth worked at her neck, sucking and feeding.
The smell of him and their arousal tinged with that of blood, whirling around in her senses as wave upon wave of a release like none she had ever known pounded at her brain until black circles danced before her eyes. She shook her head, fighting the growing darkness. Keened his name and grabbed hold of his shoulders, struggling to retain consciousness.
He ripped away from her neck then, and she was almost afraid to look and see the animal. See the proof of it in that startling green gaze and blood-stained fangs.
A shudder worked across his body, and with a low groan his body jerked against hers as he came. Still sensitized by his bite, she felt the warmth of his seed deep within. Felt the spasms wracking his cock until he dropped down on her, spent.
She ran her hands up and down his back, comforting him as they both caught their breath after the stunning passion they had shared.
His breath lengthened and his body chilled as the vampire receded. He rolled over onto his back, breaking the physical connection with her. Leaving her feeling cold and almost abandoned by the withdrawal.
Shifting to her side, she gazed at him, needing to talk. Aware that Adrian rarely wanted to share chit- chat afterward. Only the young Slayer he had bedded had yanked words out of him, and only because it had been a matter of life or death, hers in that case.
“Adrian,” she said and ran her hand across the center of his chest, but he didn’t stir.
Rising up higher, she realized he was dead to this world, and as she gazed toward the door to his room, the faint spill of light from the windows in her bedroom explained at least part of the reason for his unresponsiveness.
She was sure the alcohol and feeding had also contributed, but to press for more now was useless.
The rise of the sun had taken him away to wherever vamps went for those morning hours. He would not wake again until the early afternoon when the sun’s power had waned a bit.
She welcomed the enforced respite, needing to tend to her emotions and figure out just what had happened and the why of it. Needing to consider just how she would approach him afterward and what she would ask of him and he of her.
She was his consort; in the vampire world, masters might feed on or fuck their servants, but they didn’t fall in love with them.
Although she wished Adrian might be different, it was just that: a wish. As her mother had repeatedly told her during the hard times in Ireland, "If wishes were pennies, there would be no beggars." Eliza had begged for nothing in her life, not even as she lay dying from consumption.
She was not about to start begging now.
Chapter Six
So sweet, Adrian thought, the sight and taste of Eliza’s luscious breasts playing through his vamp dreams. Chasing images of her thin but curvy body and elegant long legs as she wrapped them around his waist and urged him on.
So wet and warm. Incredibly warm, he repeated, sensing the stirring of his body in response to the erotic dreams. Experiencing the awakening of his undead body, pulling him from the pleasurable visions of his daytime slumber.
He battled waking, preferring the almost too real dreams of having Eliza beneath him. Above him.
Beside him, the heat of her body chasing away his chill. The softness of her inner thigh caressing his cock, teasing him to want so much more.
He groaned at the rush of blood to his dick, feeling lightheaded for a moment, but only for a moment.
He must have fed last night. The surge of life engorging him was too heady not to have come from the taste of a human, but try as he might he could not recall picking up any female last night.
All he could remember was Eliza.
He groaned again, pained from his morning desire and guilt that those too real dreams of his consort were just that. Real.
Grabbing his cock, he stroked hard, trying to relieve himself while also trying to recall what had happened last night. All he could remember was drinking enough whiskey to drown an army of Irishmen and Jamie dragging him home. Dumping him in his bed.
Eliza scolding. Undressing him.
His dick twitched in his hand at the imagining of Eliza’s hands on him. Of her body close to his. With a harsh curse, he threw off the covers and the smell of her assailed his awakened vamp senses, confirming that Eliza had been there last night.
Unable to bear the thought that he had taken her in his besotted state, and unwilling to have her find him relieving himself of his desire for her, he flew from the bed to his bathroom. Turning on the shower, he made it as hot as he could stand it and stepped inside, letting the water sluice over him. Washing away traces of the alcohol which almost oozed out of his pores. The heat of it loosened the knot of tension in his brain, allowing a surge of disjointed memories to run through his mind.
Eliza above him, soothing him with an angel’s touch. The tips of her long red curls skimming along his skin as she bent so he could suckle her breasts. Her soft cries of pleasure as she moved on him.
He stroked, the wet of his hand a poor substitute for her body. Or at least he told himself it was a poor one, still unable to discern whether the sights and sounds in his mind were reality or wishful thinking.
He hoped for the latter, well aware that if had crossed that line…
“Adrian? Are you all right in there?” The door creaked a bit and her footfall came on the tiled floor, warning him that she had entered the room.
He paused midstroke even though she could not see him past the frosted glass of the shower stall.
“I’m fine,” he lied. He was far from it, caught between guilt at what he might have done and the desire to do it again.
The Irish was thick in her voice as she responded. “I’m surprised you’re not face-first over the toilet considering the state you were in last night.”
Her Irish never got up unless she was upset.
Because he couldn’t see her thanks to the frosted glass, he cracked open the shower door just enough to poke his head out. He examined her face and immediately noticed how the freckles along the bridge of her nose stood out more against the paleness of her skin. Dark smudges played beneath her emerald eyes, which were filled with sadness.
“Are you all right?” he asked, guilt slamming into him hard and draining away any lingering desire. “I’m just a little tired. It was a rough night,” she admitted and wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to keep in one piece.
If he’d fucked her, wouldn’t she just come right out and say it? he wondered, but then again, he could just as easily ask, couldn’t he? Instead he said, “I’m sorry if I made it hard for you. I don’t normally drink that much.”
“Aye, it’s been a while, Adrian.” She rocked back on her heels, obviously hesitant, and he braced himself for more.
“If you don’t need me right now, I thought I’d go out to the store. We’re low on some things.” “Retail therapy?” he teased, trying to draw away some of her sadness.
“You might say that. Saturday’s my birthday and
I thought…”
“I didn’t forget,” he replied. Her gift sat in a drawer in his dresser, already wrapped and ready to go. She smiled then and dipped her head. “You never do. I just thought I’d make a special supper to celebrate.”
“John’s not taking you out?” he asked as he shut off the water and grabbed his robe from a hook beside the shower.
Eliza wagged her head in a motion not quite a nod or a shake. “John and I… We kind of decided a little break might be best right now.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can—”
Her hand snapped up, the meaning clear.
“I’ll be back later.” She slewed on one foot and left him standing there, his emotions alternating between guilt and unrepentant joy, the latter which heightened the guiltiness.
Eliza being free of John did not free her for him.
Worse, the last thing he wanted was for Eliza to be sad. Her early life had been rough enough, but he knew enough about women to not interfere right now.
Eliza needed time, and he hoped that in the several days until her birthday, things between her and John would be set to right.
* * *
Eliza wandered through the upscale boutique on Madison Avenue. If only her family and friends could see her now, hobnobbing it with the kind of hoity toity crowd that would have shunned her in Ireland.
No longer, she thought as a familiar face approached, a broad smile on her features.
“So nice to see you again, Eliza. Can I help you pick out something for your special day?” the salesgirl asked. In this kind of store, the help knew everything about their customers.
She hadn’t given much thought to her birthday beyond the fact that she would be forever twenty-five as long as she remained Adrian’s consort. There had been so many birthdays they had almost stopped being special, except that this one would be different.
During the long day spent alone as she waited for Adrian to wake, she had relived every moment in his arms. She had realized that she could not keep on living beside him as nothing more than his consort.
Adrian had started to ask her what he could do for her and although he already had a gift ready for her, she knew she was going to be greedy and ask for yet another: freedom from her role as his servant.
Maybe then she could find the kind of love she believed in. The kind of love she’d seen her parents share.
Maybe even with John, once she’d had time to work through the sadness and confusion making her heart heavy.
The salesgirl laid a comforting hand on Eliza’s sleeve at her prolonged silence. “Eliza? Is something wrong?”
Eliza gazed around the lingerie shop, taking in all the bright colors and frilly bits of lace and satin. “I just think I need a little pick-me-up, Irene. What do you suggest?”
A wicked gleam glittered in Irene’s eyes as she ran her gaze up and down Eliza. “I think I know just the thing.”
The twenty-something took hold of Eliza’s hand and steered her toward one of the private fitting rooms.
“Get comfy. I’ll be right back.”
Eliza sat on the edge of what would have been called a fainting couch in her day, tapping her toes against the marble floor while she waited for Irene to return.
She did so only a few minutes later, a trio of undergarments in her hands. “Would you stand in front of the mirror, please?”
Eliza did as she was asked, while Irene held up the corsets before Eliza’s body. First was a garment in peachy hues trimmed in darker coral, but Irene made a moue and set it aside. Next came a Prussian-blue corset boasting feathery wisps of pale blue along the edges. As a few strands flew off and upward, forcing Eliza to contain a sneeze, Irene laughed.
“Clearly not the one. We don’t want you sneezing all through your special night.”
She efficiently yanked it away with another poof of feathers and placed the last corset before Eliza. Rich emerald satin was offset with piping in a green so dark it was almost black. The color deepened the hues of her reddish curls to a lush auburn and made her skin look like fresh clotted cream. Although Eliza had expected that the emerald would wash out the color of her eyes, it somehow brightened them, highlighting the shards of peridot and gold in her gaze.
She ran her hand down the front of the corset, the satin smooth beneath her fingers. Delicate boning gave the garment body, almost a life of its own. “I think you like?” Irene teased.
“I like,” Eliza replied and Irene left so that Eliza could try it on for size.
Even if she would be the only one to see it on her birthday, Eliza decided it would be worth the price since it definitely made her feel special, maybe even daring. Irene returned with matching panties, garters and sheer silk stockings, and as Eliza tried them on, her reflection yanked a smile to her face.
A lady’s clothes, she thought. A very sexy and determined lady, it occurred to her.
Come Saturday, she’d be free of Adrian and ready to live her life on her own terms.
Chapter Seven
Adrian didn’t know what to make of Eliza’s mood.
She had come home from her shopping expedition with a spring in her step, but that joy had faded over the past few days. She seemed skittish around him, jumpy at every touch and looking incredibly guilty at every kind word. He worried once again that something had happened between them that he could not remember, but no matter how many ways he tried to elicit a response from her about that night, Eliza didn’t take the bait.
When he mentioned John, however, her eyes had darkened with what he thought was despair.
He hated seeing that emotion in her gaze.
Even as she had struggled for life so long ago, Eliza had never allowed such feelings to dim the spirit that had originally called to him.
It twisted his gut to think that it was the breakup with John that had put such sadness into her gaze, and he knew her role in his life had likely been a major reason for their split. Because of that, he had to make things right by her.
As Eliza whisked in his afternoon snack on Thursday afternoon, he smiled and said, “I know you said you didn’t want to celebrate, but I’d like to make you dinner on Saturday. Share a bit of time with you so I can give you your present.”
Her hands trembled, rattling the china cup on the tray she carried. Spilling some of the blood over the edge, crimson dripping down the dainty flowers of the cup. For a moment it brought to mind what opposites they were. Reminded him that they were not meant to be together, much as Jamie had warned two hundred years earlier.
A vampire with a female consort, especially one that young and pretty, will only bring trouble, his friend had chided so long ago.
“That’s not necessary, Adrian,” Eliza replied as she placed the tray across his lap.
“I insist,” he said and just to make sure she understood, he underscored his words with the release of a little bit of his vamp control.
She stiffened and pique quickly replaced her earlier demeanor. “You cannot control me like this, Adrian. I am my own woman.”
He liked her gumption. Preferred it to the mopey Eliza he had seen off and on during the week. “Yes, you are, a chuisle. So humor me and allow me the pleasure of making your day a happy one.”
* * *
The endearment whipped Eliza as surely as if he had taken a crop to her, not that he knew how it hurt. Or how much she wished to hear those words whispered in her ear as he made love to her.
Their one night together had been so satisfying, and she could only imagine what it might have been like if he hadn’t been half-drunk at the time. Guilt beat at her that she had somehow taken advantage of his state, but if truth be told, she’d do it all again for the joy of being in his arms.
But it would not happen again. As she considered it, sharing a dinner might be the perfect time for her to ask for the gift she truly wanted.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so dense about it, Adrian. I’d love to have dinner with you on Saturday.”
The grin that lit his face caused her heart to skitter. She tucked away that picture of him for the days when they would be apart.
“I’ve got to run. I have some chores to do,” she said, hurrying from the room to leave him to his feeding.
* * *
Adrian watched her go, relieved that she had agreed to his plan. Once he had finished with his snack, he would head out to gather what he needed to celebrate. He wanted it to be perfect for her. Wanted to see happiness on her face as he hopefully gave her what she desired, even if it would break his own heart to do so.
* * *
Eliza paced back and forth in the living room of her quarters, wondering at what Adrian had been preparing for her birthday surprise.
He had come back alone late the night before. Again.
Since his misadventure with the human and his alcohol-tainted intimacy with her, he had not brought another woman home for a snack.
Was it because he had finally remembered? she wondered, raising a hand to rub along the spot where he had fed from her and given her passion such as she’d not ever experienced. A vampire’s gift so unlike those he provided to prolong her life as his consort and so different from the kiss that would bring eternal life as one of the undead.
But if he had remembered, why hadn’t he made another overture? Had he found her so lacking?
The smell of something wafted into her quarters from the kitchen area and made her stomach gurgle with hunger, pushing her thoughts to the background.
The clatter of pans followed and was chased by Adrian’s muffled curse as he apparently cooked the meal he planned to serve her.
That he would do that for her brought a smile to her face. In the many years they had known each other, Adrian had rarely been domestic.
It both surprised and pleased her that he would do so now, but it also awakened sadness at what she planned to request of him.
The Vampire's Consort Page 4