Dark Ghost

by Christine Feehan

  "Do not cry for me, sivamet. I have you now and all of it was worth the wait." He murmured the words softly as he brought his finger to his mouth and tasted her tears.

  "You need blood, Andre. I can feel how weak you are. We have to give you a transfusion." One of them had to be practical. His sitting there looking gorgeous and hot with nearly perfect skin didn't negate the fact that she could still feel his weakness and exhaustion. Blood loss would do that.

  "I have dreamt of the taste of you," he whispered softly.

  She found herself shivering in anticipation. Of what, she wasn't certain. He swept back her hair, pulling it from around one side of her neck to the other, so that the long ponytail of braids hung over her right shoulder. His touch, as his thumb slid over her skin was sensual. So was the way he moved her hair. Her heart jerked in anticipation. Of what, she had no idea, only that her body came alive at his touch.

  He dipped his head. She felt his breath, warm against her skin. His tongue stroked once, twice, over the pulse beating so strongly in her neck. She had time for one swift inhale, the comprehension. She was in his mind. The terrible hunger. The craving for her unique taste. For the rich substance she could provide to help heal him. She made a single sound, started to lurch forward, knowing she couldn't escape. His arms were two steel bands wrapped around her middle.

  His teeth sank deep and she cried out at the bite of pain. Instantly it gave way to pure, erotic pleasure. She shared his mind and she felt his body heat. Harden. Need. For her--only for her. There was no other. There could be no other.

  She felt her blood go into his body, spread through his starving cells to answer the terrible need. She tasted--exquisite. Perfect. His fingers splayed wide over the bare skin of her abdomen, rubbing gently as he fed. She relaxed into him, gave him more of herself, willingly allowed him to feed from her.

  She knew he hadn't put a compulsion on her, and she saw the memory of the first night with him, that first taking of her blood. She hadn't remembered and yet she did, right then, that thrill, the same erotic feeling she had right now.

  Teagan couldn't help herself, she reached up to stroke the perfection of his face right where the vampire had torn the long lacerations, so deep they should have scarred. She'd wanted to smooth those faint lines away. She'd wanted to heal him. To be the one who could take away his pain.

  You have done so already, avio palafertiilam. Everything I have done these long centuries has been wiped out by the gift that is you.

  He swept his tongue over the two small holes, closing them, and she murmured a protest, not wanting the sensation to end. His mouth continued to move on her neck, tiny kisses and stinging bites followed by his soothing tongue. He turned her easily, using his strength to set her on his lap.

  She was deep in an erotic-filled daze, lulled by Andre's sheer sensuality. She could barely think, feeling so connected to him. Having him in her mind. Being in his. Even the way he took her blood, she could accept that--accept him because he didn't feel evil at all, not to mention it was the most sensual thing she'd ever experienced.

  It was entirely possible that the erotic-filled daze was just Andre and the chemistry between them that seemed to be off the charts. She had nothing to compare him to, because he was the only one she felt anything for.

  "It is your turn, Teagan," he whispered. "You will take my blood."

  That managed to penetrate her sensual fog. She frowned, her eyes searching his for the meaning of that. Because no. He was hot. Gorgeous. Her body was singing and hot and needy, but . . . you will take my blood. Okay. No. No way. No f-ing way. That was not happening no matter how hot he was. No matter how sensual. Even if he was dying.

  She took a leap right off his lap and got exactly nowhere. She didn't move one inch. She planted both hands on his chest, right above where the terrible wound from the vampire had been and tried to shove him back on the bed, so he'd at least lose balance and she could escape.

  "You will take my blood for our second exchange."

  Not only was there command in his voice, but she felt the subtle "push." Her heart went wild. Her mouth went dry and she exploded into action, uncaring that he was injured or that he was hot and gorgeous. Second time? She'd taken his blood once already? And didn't remember it? He'd kind of left that part out.

  She tried for his eyes, and then his throat, but she found she couldn't move. Not a single muscle. His eyes drifted over her face. There it was again. His anger. It was tangible. She felt his anger like a black cloud surrounding her with heat and if she hadn't been completely locked down where she couldn't even lift an arm, she would have gone still anyway.

  "You have capabilities that few have, sivamet, and it has become clear to me that you are very headstrong. I cannot protect you during the daylight hours and you insist on leaving my side. There is no other path."

  What path? That didn't sound good. There was always more than one path. Her mouth went dry when she saw him bend his head toward hers. He turned slightly, presenting the side of his neck the vampire had shredded. His skin she couldn't help marveling over because there was nothing but perfection there. In spite of everything, she had a strange compulsion to bury her face in his neck, fling her arms around him and seek comfort.

  You're scaring me. She couldn't speak, but she was still in his mind and it felt intimate and right. You said you would never harm me.

  You are the safest person on this planet from me. I would never harm you. I am incapable of harming you. However, csitri, you have taken all choices from me.

  There it was again. All choices. She hadn't taken all of them. There had to be other ways than this, right? She swallowed, but she still wanted to bury her face against his neck, right over the vein where she could feel his heart.

  Her gaze was captivated by the pulse beating so strongly in his neck. He had a great neck. Great shoulders. Awesome muscles. She leaned into him. It wouldn't hurt anything to touch his bare skin, with her lips, right there. To taste him. She wanted his kisses, but he wasn't giving them out, so she could just get a little whisper of a taste.

  Abruptly she pulled herself together. What the hell was wrong with her mind? She had to stay focused if she was going to get out of this.

  You will not be getting out of anything, Teagan. Running is not the answer.

  Maybe running isn't the answer for you. She tried to glare to let him know he was being a total jerk. You can fly. She made that an accusation, because really, who could fly? Superman maybe, but Andre wasn't wearing a big geeky S on his chest so he had no real explanation.

  Running sounds really good to me about now. I am so not drinking blood. I don't judge. I'm not in the least judgmental. Well--she hedged because he was in her mind and he'd see that was a teensy lie anyway--I totally am opposed to vampires. I might have judged him a little harshly when I bashed that one over his head, but I'm not judging you. I'm just saying, blood is not exactly my cup of tea.

  She watched in a kind of fascinated horror as he lifted his hand, fingers up, and one nail slid across that beckoning pulse point in his neck. Small ruby red beads welled up and dotted his skin. Anticipation beat at her. Her mouth watered. She could taste him in her mouth. It was both horrifying and wonderful. Wonderfully horrifying.

  His palm shaped the back of her head and pressed her face toward him. She closed her eyes and immediately was enveloped with his warmth. She felt secure. Loved even. Comforted. Her racing heart slowed to match the steady beat of his. She heard them, two hearts, beating in exact synchronization.

  With his one hand at the back of her head and the other wrapped around her, holding her close to the incredible heat of his body, she was completely surrounded by him. She kept her eyes closed and let herself sink into his warmth. He was there in her mind, comforting her, gently pushing her mouth to taste his skin. To just kiss his shoulder blade and move up his collarbone to his throat.

  She had to breathe him in. He'd been in a battle and yet he smelled fresh and clean. All male. A
s wonderful as the forest after a rainfall. She inhaled, taking him into her lungs. He was there in her mind, filling every lonely place, caressing her, whispering encouragement.

  Teagan felt his swift intake of breath when she dared to press her lips to his skin. She felt the impact on his body, the incredible moment when she realized the chemistry between them was just as great for him as it was for her. She tasted his throat, a slide of her tongue, and his body was instantly hard.

  His heavy erection pressed shamelessly against her bottom, so hot she thought he might burn through their clothing to touch her skin. She kissed her way to the fascinating place where his shoulder and neck met. His arm tightened, and he groaned.

  She heard him. He groaned. She'd made gorgeous Andre actually groan just by burying her face in that warm, perfect spot on his body. Just by skimming his pulse with her lips. The tip of her tongue teased and caressed his skin, needed his taste, wondering if he tasted the same or different on various body parts.

  You are killing me, sivamet.

  His voice was husky, sensual, brushing along the walls of her mind. She felt the stroke of his whisper over her skin. Her nipples peaked, pushed against the lace of her bra, seeking contact with his heat. Needing his touch.

  Avio palafertiilam, I have given you my heart. I need you to give your heart to me. I need your body. Give yourself to me. All of you.

  She felt him moving again, in his mind, and she was skin to skin with him. She was hazily aware that suddenly neither of them had a stitch on. She should have been embarrassed, but she was elated. She wanted to touch him. To run her hands over his chest and down to his lap. She needed to feel every bit of him against her, so she simply turned her body and pressed her front to his front as she lapped at the hot spice spilling from him.

  She'd already given herself to him. She didn't sit in a man's lap without her clothes on and not want more. Want everything from him. And she did.

  As if hearing her unspoken answer, Andre's hands slid over her bare skin, a delicious feeling that sent little flames dancing through her. Delicious. Her tongue tasted him again. A rich spice. The flavor of him burst on her tongue, addictive. Wild. Exotic. Nothing like she'd ever tasted before, but she craved it. Needed it. Or had she tasted that exact richness before, setting up her addiction? Her obsession. Once maybe. She had a vague recollection, and hadn't he said something to that effect? She found herself licking at the tiny beads, no longer caring, only needing.

  Andre groaned again, his body shifting restlessly against hers. His palms stroked caresses along her rib cage. His fingers traced each rib, every indentation, the soft mound of her belly and then up the sides of her breasts. Perfect. She melted into him, against all his hard muscle, feeling the incredible softness of her own body. Her mind was so firmly entrenched in his that she could feel everything he was feeling, not just the sensations his sensual hands gave to her, but his actual responses.

  She felt his heart, the love he already had for her growing deeper and stronger. She felt part of his soul, tiny threads binding them so that instead of two lost souls, they were one very strong soul. She felt his hunger and need of her body. She drove him wild with her soft skin and the feel of her mouth and tongue against his skin.

  A delicious burn between her legs spread flames through her. The fire started right there, as she spread kisses over the droplets of hot spice. She needed more. She had to have more. He was in her mind. She needed him inside her, flowing through her veins. She wanted him inside of her, in her body, so they were one, not two.

  She tried not to be greedy, but the taste was exquisite and there seemed to be an endless supply. Better yet, as she drew out the spicy liquid, Andre's body got hotter and tighter, and she felt his hunger for her growing. It was there in her mind, a need that seemed to grow, matching her own almost desperate desire for him.

  His hands cupped her breasts, and her breath left her body. His thumbs slid over her hard nipples and she gasped, arching into him. His fingers and thumbs tugged and rolled, until fire spread straight to her sex and sent hot flames licking over her skin.

  She tried to gain some control, but once she closed her eyes, she couldn't open them again, which was strange, because her body was her own again. Her hands moved up the strong column of his broad back, spreading across his skin to take in as much of him as she possibly could. She had to touch him. There was no stopping herself. She wanted all of him. She was desperate to have all of him.

  His back was every bit as muscled as his chest. Beautiful, deliciously defined, very masculine muscles. She had a thing for muscles and he had them everywhere. His skin was hot and hard and smooth. She couldn't get enough of touching him, of kissing him. Of tasting him. An addictive taste she would crave forever.

  Enough, sivamet. This is our second exchange. You are close now. Next rising it will be done. Come to me now. I need you.

  He gently pulled her head back, using her long, thick ponytail of braids, depriving her of the exquisite addictive flavor that was uniquely him. She licked her lips. He watched her, his eyes darkening. Turning more intense than ever.

  "Andre." She murmured her protest and tried to lean into him.

  "Teagan."

  There it was again. Her name. His accent curled around it. Soft. Low. Husky with need. She recognized that note in his voice for what it was. So sensual. So hungry. She slid her arms around his neck.

  "I have no idea what I'm doing, Andre," she whispered the admission. "But I want to do it all with you. Everything."

  He fell back against the mattress, taking her with him so that her body sprawled over his. His skin was so hot she just melted into him. He dragged her up along his thick chest, until she straddled him, her legs over either side of his body so that his very heavy erection was pressed deep into her belly. She loved the feel of him. And the look of him.

  His eyes were hooded, more sensual than ever. The look of love and lust mixed together was hot, and she wanted that fire. She found herself so drawn to it that she couldn't think of anything else but Andre and his hands and mouth. His body. She wanted to put her own hands and mouth all over him. The compulsion was a hunger, a need that grew into a coiling ball of tension and settled wicked, sinful and low in her body.

  Teagan ran her palms up his chest, and followed the trail with her tongue. She couldn't stop touching him, especially in the places that had been wounded. She would have given anything to have a healing agent in her saliva and to be able to turn herself into pure spirit to heal him when he was wounded.

  You heal my heart, sivamet. You heal my soul. You are the only woman who can make me whole.

  Well. There it was. When you were the only woman in the entire world who could make a man whole, who could heal his heart and heal his soul, you did it. Right? His words were an incandescent shimmer in her mind. Warm. True. She felt his honesty, and she also felt the way his body responded to her touch.

  What woman had the kind of power to make a man like Andre come alive? He was beautiful and powerful and so sensual she couldn't resist him. She couldn't look away from his blue eyes. He had so many colors of blue there, depending on his mood. This was a new color, a deep, beautiful sea blue.

  His hand moved gently over her hair, sweeping over the top of her head in a gentle caress, as if he was memorizing the intricate braid work. He followed the length right down to the end of her ponytail.

  There was something about the way he touched her with just a hint of possession that sent tingles down her spine and had butterflies taking flight in her stomach. His head dipped and he kissed her again. A long, slow, heart-stopping kiss that went on forever, and yet it wasn't enough.

  His hands slid down her back, a slow sweep to match the kiss that sent streaks of fire dancing through her body. His hands were big and his fingers were splayed wide. She was very slight and his palms took in her entire back as they slid downward. Then his hands cupped her bottom and it felt incredible.

  His mouth moved from hers to her
chin. His teeth nipped and his tongue slid over the tiny sting. He placed a series of kisses along her jaw and then trailed more down her neck and over her throat. Her body caught fire. She closed her eyes and let herself drown in the flames.

  He took her hand very gently, slid it down his body. Her heart nearly stopped and then began pounding when her palm encountered the heavy length of him. He was hot and hard and his erection jerked against her hand when he wrapped her fingers tight around him. It was scary and wonderful at the same time.

  "Um. Andre. I really have never done this before." She didn't know if that would make him want to stop. She didn't want to stop, but she knew it was unusual for a woman of her age to be a virgin. And quite frankly, she was just a little intimidated by his size. He was a big man, and she wasn't certain he was going to fit. That could be a real problem because she really wanted him to.

  "You were made for me, sivamet, my other half. I will be gentle with you."

  His voice turned her heart over, sounding tender and filled with love. Still connected in his mind, she felt his love for her. It made no sense that he could already be so intensely attached to her, but it was there and it was real. She felt his love envelope her, surround and enfold her.

  Every lonely place in her mind was already filled with him. She knew she was already gone, drowning in him, in the spell he'd woven around her. His mouth was driving her crazy, moving over her skin almost leisurely, as if he had to take his time to get to know every square inch of her body. As if he were worshiping her, imprinting everything he touched or tasted in his mind to last forever.

  She couldn't stay still, and her hand moved over his erection. His hand guided hers, so that she memorized the shape and feel of him, sliding over the thick pulsing shaft to the large, velvet helmet, slick with pearl beads. Her breath caught in her throat and she had a mad desire to bend down and lick the beads off of him just to see if his taste was as addictive as she thought it would be.

  "Give yourself into my keeping, Teagan. Your body. Your heart and soul. You are safe with me. I have entrusted you with my heart and soul. I give you my body and trust I am safe with you."