by Jackie Ivie
“You may not wish to do this, Darcy.”
Darcy? He knew her name? When the hell did that happen?
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure...I can stop.”
“Well hell. That’s the least of my problems. Come up with another reason.”
“You don’t understand. I crave...”
He didn’t finish. He simply vibrated in place with a motion that nearly matched her trembling. He looked locked in position, showing off all sorts of muscle-bound shadows and valleys. And that was fine with her. And right. And exactly what this fantasy deserved.
“Yes?” Her sexy voice had changed to the timbre of a husky whisper.
“You...play with fire.”
“Well. It was my turn,” she replied.
His eyes narrowed to slits, sending spiked shadows across his cheeks from his lashes. And then he snarled, showing some really white and really sharp spikes where his canine teeth should be.
Darcy let out a sigh. “Oh. Come on, Thanos. Don’t do the vampire stuff again. Okay?”
“Vampire stuff?”
“Yeah. The fangs. The blood sucking. The ultra-sexy licking. Not again. Okay? I’m still sore from last night.”
That made him grin, putting elongated fangs on display. And then he reached out, put both arms about her, and brought her right against him. His skin was cool to the touch. Cool? That was insane. They were in a fire-filled room and the instant she touched him, she felt chilled? No way could he feel like he’d been in a refrigerated room.
“But Darcy. My love. My only love.”
Oh. She was in trouble now. He said the l-word. Twice. And he’d used a whisper that lifted goose bumps down her skin. It also weakened places – like knees, and it sent a slither of feathery reactions all the way through her.
“Yeah?”
She’d lost control of the husky, sexy voice. Her response was one word. And it was harsh from coming between pants for breath. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t lose control in her fantasy. Could she?
“I am a vampire.”
Oh shit.
CHAPTER SIX
Okay. She needed a reality check.
There was no way Thanos was a vampire. No way. They did not exist. But what if they did? Oh shit again. Think Darcy. Thanos couldn’t possibly be a vampire. He didn’t look remotely dead. Or corpselike. And the last thing he appeared was demonic.
Descriptions flashed through her brain without one bit of asking.
Vampires were monsters. Demons that animated at night in order to feed off the living. Curst creatures that roamed the earth, looking for victims. Blood sucking fiends. Evil. Immoral. Malevolent. Oh. Wait a minute. Weren’t they also supremely sexy? Able to hypnotize their prey with a smoldering gaze from dark mesmeric eyes?
Man. Good thing they didn’t exist. Because if they did...she was in major trouble here. Because this Thanos had the sexy part covered. In spades.
Time warped. The room shifted. Light dimmed. And there wasn’t any stopping this. Darcy was the instigator again, wrapping her arms about his shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair in order to pull his head to her, locking lips...but the sound that resonated outward came from both throats. Her inner lip pained minutely as he must’ve sliced it open, mingling their blood, and that’s when reality took a complete nosedive.
He stumbled, but caught it. The sword he’d been fashioning sounded like a casualty of his movement. Darcy heard it clattering as it fell somewhere. It was followed by a thud as what could be the anvil tumbled off its perch. An influx of heat and light came next, accompanied by a huge roar as if the fire had received a large infusion of oxygen. He might have stepped on his bellows thing. Or maybe he could control such things subconsciously. Whichever. She wasn’t checking.
Staying plastered to Thanos was too devastating: his kiss a blend of passion and bliss; the touch of skin too addictive; the sensations he put into play absolutely overwhelming. Her toga knot slipped. She helped unfasten it with one hand. The other stayed clenched in his hair. Holding him. Maintaining this. The craving was too overpowering. He must feel the same, for she felt him fumbling about at his waist, the move freeing him from his little skirt, and the next moment she was straddling his hips, and riding his rod. And he was massive. Thick. Hard.
Readied.
He yanked his head back from hers, breaking the kiss, sending droplets of red fluid with the motion, and flexing against her hold. She didn’t care. Her entire focus was on grabbing him. Working a hand along his shaft. Guiding. Positioning. Holding...and then engulfing. And nothing ever felt so wonderful!
Thanos must agree. The cry he put into the cavern sure sounded it. Especially as it ended with a hint of joy-filled laughter, and then a grunt, as he rammed against her loins and held her there. He brought his head back down, his eyes demanding her gaze. His eyes weren’t brown anymore, or even dark red. They were deepest black. And covered with a patina that glistened.
“I need you, Darcy.”
His mouth didn’t seem to move, but she heard it. And his voice was deep. Guttural. All-encompassing. She nodded, and a blink of time later, he was placing her onto linen-covered softness with the slightest give to it. Like a mattress. Atop a real bed. She’d check, but she wasn’t moving her gaze from him. Her entire sphere was just Thanos...and the sensations his body was giving her. She didn’t close her eyes. She didn’t even blink. Her eyes filled with the sight of his body pumping mercilessly into hers, each stroke delivering more sensation, more breadth, scope, making whatever structure they were atop creak in submission.
“You certain, my love? You must be sure.”
Uh oh. There was the l-word again. He’d said it. She heard it. But this time his lips didn’t seem to move at all. Not that she cared. His movements were too visceral, each thrust sending sensation atop sensation as he worked harder. Faster. And each one took breath as well as sanity.
She nodded and gripped her legs about his hips. Grasping. Clenching. Striving.
“Ah...Darcy, my love. My. One. True. Love.”
The last four words were separated. Distinct. And accompanied by the slow slide of his tongue along her neck. It didn’t match the rest of him. Thanos’ body continued pumping into hers, flexing her legs with each move, and ramping anticipation beyond containment.
“Oh, Thanos, yes! Yes! Yes!”
Darcy’s reply came amid slams of his body into hers. She was amazed it made sound. She barely felt him piercing flesh and then sucking. She couldn’t. Each thrust she met doled out pleasure on a scale beyond comprehension. It stole breath. Ignited starbursts. She slammed her eyes shut, somehow absorbing absolute ecstasy. Supreme bliss. Amazement. The experience didn’t just hit her; it filled and then zoomed outward like so many rockets. The room beyond her eyelids burst into brightness, showering both of them with fireworks, sparking with each contact, while her heart went into cardiac shock or something.
She’d never felt such wonder. And then it ratcheted even higher as Thanos joined in, lifting his head from her neck with a harsh movement that matched how his body stiffened. Went taut. Incredibly hard. Heavy. Everything on him seemed to shake in non-rhythmic surges while all sorts of growls came from his throat. Sounding bestial. Immensely satisfied. And very far away.
Somewhere in here, she’d not only lost reality, but she didn’t even miss it. Everything was wonderful. No. Better than that, if there was such a thing. She could almost believe in the l-word if it was attached to him. And this. But that was ridiculous. Fantastic sex did not a relationship make. How many times did she need to learn that?
But man. Was this sex ever fantastic!
“Oh...Thanos.”
Her whisper barely made sound. Thanos collapsed onto her and rolled, taking her with him, keeping their bodies connected. And she was still twitching and pinging. Dang! They were perfectly matched. Everywhere. Her nose fit nicely just beneath his ear. Her breasts smashed against his pecs. Her legs linked with his. Hmm.
He even smelled nice. Darcy nuzzled her nose against his throat. He wasn’t at all cool to the touch anymore.
Yep. This was pretty much perfect. Even their heartbeats matched. Heavy thump to heavy thump. Harsh and heavy at first, and then slow. Steady...
Wait a minute.
The beats matched exactly.
Darcy concentrated and listened. Yep. It was exact. THUMP-thump. The first one was heavy and loud, the second one slighter, like an echo of the first. As the left ventricle did its job. Or whatever. She couldn’t recollect and didn’t care.
“Thanos?”
Her whisper was accompanied by the slide of her lips along his flesh...then her tongue. He tasted nice, too.
“Yes, love?”
He used the l-word again. She let it go. She’d worry over it later.
“Your...heart beat.”
“Yes?”
He chuckled as he said it, making the slightest tremble in his throat. It fascinated. Interested. Drew. Darcy ran her tongue along vague scratchiness of whisker-covered skin. Mmm. She’d been off a bit. He tasted better than nice. And something was happening with her teeth. Something weird. Some of them were actually tingling.
“And your...breathing.”
He chuckled again. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“No. Not that. I mean it matches mine.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.” Ouch. Something pricked at her bottom lip, stinging momentarily before she sucked at her own blood. It got even weirder. She started trembling in semi-ecstasy at the taste. Darcy opened her upper lip in reflex, and that released her skin, stopping the flow of fluid but not her tremors.
“I know,” he answered.
“But...why?”
She was having a hard time hearing over the ramped-up thumping of her own pulse. It matched his, causing a little vein along his neck to hammer against what had to be her teeth. Darcy tipped her head and lapped against his throat. Her teeth actually felt like they pushed through skin. And if it wasn’t so damned intriguing and attracting, she’d be horrified and repulsed.
Maybe.
“You are my mate, Darcy.”
Oh no. Did he just say mate?
Her head lifted slightly, pulling what couldn’t possibly be fangs from contact with him. And everything in her body tightened, as if annoyed at the denial. It matched how everything about him hardened and tightened as well. Especially where they were still joined. Meshed. His groin pulsed against hers, too, sending a flash of fire racing her spine. Climbing the back of her head. Hitting her nose.
Her canine teeth.
“You heard me, darling.”
“No.”
“Oh yes. You are my mate, Darcy. And I am yours.”
“No,” she replied again. The word didn’t have much conviction behind it. The moves he made within her were too corporeal. Too amazing. She was also closing in on his neck again, too. She couldn’t help it. Something else was in charge of her will. Something entirely too vast. Necessary. Needed.
“Oh yes, Darcy. Love. We are mates. I thank the gods I’ve found you!”
His voice deepened, filling the room with sound. It hammered through her consciousness, mixing with surges of desire that hit her teeth, elongating them. Sharpening them. This wasn’t possible. No. It couldn’t be.
“After centuries of waiting. And longing. And searching. Yearning. Hungering. Craving.”
He punctuated each descriptor with a thrust deep within her, igniting passions that wouldn’t stay banked, thirsts that defied quenching, and hungers that begged staunching. Their shared pulse went faster. Going heavier. Thicker. Louder. Blood filled the vein that pulsed in his neck.
Darcy shook for a moment longer, before surrendering to a yearning beyond her scope of comprehension. Or range of experience. She lowered her mouth to his throat and bit him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Her watch had quit working. Again. Still. Either that or eight minutes had elapsed since she first woke in this fantasy realm atop a marble slab. Eight minutes that included time spent searching for Thanos as well as the amazing interlude of sex with him that had ensued. More than once. So either her watch had stopped, or she’d lost twelve more hours.
She decided to go with the stopped theory.
Darcy unclasped the wristband and rolled to her side to set her timepiece on what could be a nightstand. She sent a glance out into the area. She could be in what passed for a bedroom – if it had been hewn from rock walls because it was in a cavern of an underground labyrinth. She could even be atop a four-post, king-sized bed, set high off the floor. A bed, furthermore, that had a really intricate framework made of wrought filigree formed into all kinds of woodland symbols. All worked in some kind of reflective metal.
Her imagination was awesome, as always. But it usually wasn’t this succinct and visceral. The bed shifted slightly. Darcy rolled the other direction and collided with a large male. There went her imagination again. Still. The Greek archangel/god Thanos was here. And wow. He was naked. Lying on his belly. And he had a fine ass.
His shoulders shifted as he lifted his head and grinned at her. Darcy’s heart swooped with a really strange sensation as their glances touched. She managed an answering smile, but it probably looked as unsure as she felt.
“You rested?”
All kinds of muscles moved as he put a finger to her arm and trailed it from her elbow to her shoulder. Damn! He had the best body she’d ever seen or imagined. And he really knew how to use it! Just his touch sent shivers.
“Uh...” What kind of answer was she supposed to make?
He moved his gaze to where he was now drawing circles about her upper arm.
“Thanos?”
“Yes, love?”
“Why do you call me that?”
“What?”
“Love.”
His grin widened. He truly had a very nice smile. White teeth. Not one fang in sight. Anywhere.
“I say it because it is true.”
“You love me?”
“Oh yes. Positively. Totally. For all eternity. Forevermore. I swear it.”
“You...actually sound serious, Thanos.”
He sobered. “I am serious.”
“You know it isn’t possible. We just met. And nobody believes in love at first sight anymore.”
“Have I said something to make you disbelieve me?”
“Uh. Yeah,” she answered.
“When?”
He frowned slightly as he puzzled it. Dang! He was showing off those cute frown lines across his forehead. Her tongue was giving her trouble. But it was time to point out the obvious. He was delusional or insane. Hopefully he wasn’t also homicidal, schizophrenic, or psychotic. Even if he was any of those things, she’d just have to face it and work from there. Wasn’t that in her resume when she’d applied for her job? She worked well under pressure. Came up with options. Worked her way out of a tangle. Punted. She drew a breath.
“Every time you claim to be a vampire, Thanos.”
“But I am a vampire.”
“Oh, come on already. Enough is enough. Vampires don’t exist. I was not born yesterday, okay? And I am not going insane. I really should get dressed now. And find a way out of this maze. Contact Lizbeth. She’s probably frantic with worry at my disappearance. People might even be looking for me. Where are my clothes? I mean...drapes?”
She sat up without one bit of effort and started looking, but everywhere seemed to contain naked guy. Really nice naked guy. Prime. Muscled. She’d been right, too. He had a very nice ass.
“You doubt me?”
His words were low-voiced, sending a tremor of something along her spine. What lights the room contained flared and then dimmed. Thanos added unnecessary atmosphere to everything by growling at the end of that. Or something that sounded just as threatening.
“Uh...yeah.”
It was better to keep searching. Somehow find the material she’d been wearing. Or maybe pull some more of the bedding off this
mattress and fashion another toga. That might work.
“Why?”
The lights flared again, as if driven by his voice. Darcy swallowed.
“Why? Oh...lots of reasons. We can start with the major ones and move on from there, if you want. Screw it. Let’s just start with the main one. Vampires do not exist.”
“They do. They have for millennia.”
“Right. And everyone knows this but me,” she replied.
“Very few know, because we want it that way. We’re hidden. It’s best.”
“The only place you’ll find a vampire is in folktales written to scare readers. Lascivious stories meant to terrify. Fiction designed to titillate and entertain.” And when the hell did she pick up such a vocabulary? She was starting to sound like one of her professors. Or Lizbeth.
“All of it based on sightings, I wager.”
“Right. There you go, adding ballast to the delusional diagnosis. And here I was having such a nice time.” Ugh. She was spouting more big words. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Oh. The nice time’s just starting love.”
Oh, hell. Her hands were trembling now. Good thing she had them hidden in folds of bedding. “Give it a rest, already, Thanos. You are not a vampire. You don’t even have fangs.”
The lights went really bright before shuttering. The resultant dimness should be even more difficult to pierce. It wasn’t. She could see everything almost like she had night vision or something.
“Darcy.”
He drew out her name in bass tones that reverberated around the room. Then it surrendered to an echo that lingered on the air. Vibrating almost through her. In waves.
“Yes?” The word was whispered through a dry throat.
“Look at me.”
Oh, no way. He was starting to scare the hell out of her. She shook her head.
“How can I prove it if you won’t look for yourself?”
“You won’t...force me?”
Darcy’s voice squeaked. More embarrassment. When had she picked up such a little girl voice, anyway? She was a confident sort. Fit. Smart. Able to take on truckers’ comments all day with a bite of sarcasm and a huge dose of wit. And right now, she sounded lost and excruciatingly young. About six. Maybe seven.