by Diana Ballew
When she opened the bathroom door, at least a dozen flickering candles greeted her. She slipped out of the robe and sank into the large tub filled with water so steamy the mirrors and window were completely fogged. On a small table next to her sat a bottle of rose bath oil. She poured a generous dollop into the water and swished it about.
“May I come in?” asked Derek from behind the door.
She smiled and sank deeper into the tub, allowing only her head to poke out. “You may.”
Dressed in a pitch-black silken robe, he entered and locked the door with an echoing click behind him.
Her gaze wandered over the length of his handsome, naked body as he untied his robe and let it drop into a pool of slick fabric on the marble floor. He sank into the water and pulled her against him in an embrace. Despite the hot water, the feel of his firm body against hers sent fiery sparks racing up her backbone.
The rose oil slickened every inch of their bodies. She suddenly flinched, recalling the frightening vision that had sent her scurrying from the bath in a panicked flurry before.
“Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Just a momentary chill.”
His hands leisurely slid along the slippery curve of her waist. “You arouse me to the point of distraction, woman,” he whispered said against her throat. He grazed her neck, the tip of his tongue lingering against her racing pulse point.
Determined to shake off the eerie vision threatening to resurface, she pulled him deeper into the water.
“My, my, Miss Richland,” he said.
She slid on top of him, her wet hair fanned out, floating on the surface of the water, framing their bodies like a shroud. She nuzzled the wet mat of curled hair on his chest, brushing against her cheeks, and kissed his muscled torso.
Firm hands glided along the sides of her breasts, the curve of her hips, moving over her buttocks, stopping to grip the round mounds and pull her firmly against his body.
Derek slid her up the length of his body until her mouth reached his. He kissed her, deeply, passionately, his hands massaging the tops of her legs, her bottom, a slick finger slipping between her silken thighs. His finger curved into the crevasse of her buttocks.
“Your skin feels like silk,” he said, his voice, deep, throaty, and seductive. “The things I want to do to you … ”
His firm manhood pressed against her belly. The heated bathwater penetrated her skin, flooding her veins with yearning, heating her straight through to her core.
She reached down and gently grabbed hold of his slick shaft. He moaned, and his muscles tensed, his firm legs and torso tightening until he trembled. She massaged him, taking her time as she explored the smooth mass. His thighs grew rock hard beneath her as he pressed his feet firmly against the foot of the bathtub.
His breathing quickened, and she sensed his desire gathering like an approaching storm. He grabbed her bottom, pulling her closer, his long arms reaching until his fingers found the silky hairs of her moist cleft.
The moment his finger penetrated her, she grew warmer. Her buttocks tightened, and a throaty moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She circled his erect nipple with her tongue.
“My God, woman,” he breathed.
Erin gazed into his smoldering eyes. He turned her around, pressing her back to his chest. He reached around the front, one hand sliding up her silken stomach, capturing a breast. The other spread her thighs, his fingers slipping into her moistened warmth, pausing to finger her wet bud.
Resting her head against his broad chest, she moaned, and the disturbing vision threatened to surface again. “Derek,” she whispered. “I … ”
“Hush, my angel,” he whispered said softly, from somewhere distant and unreachable.
A finger slipped inside her, slickening her, fragrant oils smoothing the way. Her nipples beaded like pearls between his fingers. Growing desire pulled from somewhere deep within her pelvis. Breathless with yearning, she turned her head from side to side, her cheeks pressing against his muscled chest; all willpower to halt obliterated, as waves of unfulfilled passion grew unbearable.
She gasped the moment he spread her wider, his hand moving faster, and just before she felt her insides explode, he seized her jaw, forcing her cheek firmly against his shoulder, his mouth coming down hard upon her throat.
“Oh, Derek, I … ”
Jagged breaths caressed her neck. “You what, my love?”
My love. His haunting voice, resonant of an old dream, made her shudder. Rhythmic waves rose, cresting in moist surges of desire against his experienced hands.
She arched as his mouth came down upon her neck once again, nibbling, grazing her sensitive throat with his teeth, his body tense with desire.
Growls of pleasure and heated passion hummed against her neck, sending her plunging over the edge. Her body pulsated with an exquisite climax, vibrating streams of warmth enveloping her entire body like a quivering veil.
“You what, my love?” he asked again.
He rose from the bath and drew her breathless, trembling body into his arms.
Her eyelids flew open. “Are we stopping?”
A devilish smile spread beneath his mustache. He stood her up on legs that felt ready to collapse. After wrapping her in a towel, he led her by the hand to his candlelit bedroom.
The towel fell to the floor as she flopped on her back against the cool sheets, trying to capture measured breath. The glowing candlelight flickered, yellow flames hissing and rising as he slid above her, his strong arms cradling her neck. Their dark, naked shadows moved along the walls and high ceiling, looking like menacing night creatures on the hunt.
He gazed into her eyes, his firm chest pressed against her breasts. Slowly, gently, he slid his hand between her legs, fingering the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Instantly, the steady smolder of arousal began anew.
“Derek,” she whispered. “You torture me with pleasure.”
“Woman, you torture me more than you’ll ever know. Look into my eyes,” he said in a deep tone that caught her off guard.
A solitary finger slipped inside her. She gasped.
“Look at me,” he repeated, firmly.
She did as he commanded, gazing deep, deeper, deeper, slipping into the fathomless depths of indigo, as he removed his finger and slid it around her slick pearl.
His fingers did things she never knew were possible, “Oh, Derek,” she moaned, as his fingers withdrew. “I want you, all of you.”
Gazing into her eyes, he lifted his hips and plunged inside her heated depths. Over and over, deeper and faster, he drove her to the very edge of release. Gasping with yearning, she barely heard his demand.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he breathed against her cheek.
Erin lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He plunged deeper and dug his fingertips into her tender buttocks. He increased pace, rubbing along her sensitive pearl. She arched as the tide within her swelled, cresting, and just as waves of pleasure collided, Derek’s body stiffened, and his buttocks grew rock hard against her hands as she pulled him deeper.
Breathless, she watched the dancing candlelight licking the bedroom walls as their moans of ecstasy echoed across the high-beamed ceiling while they rode the waves together.
Chapter Fifteen
New York
Dominic worked the large crowd squeezed into The Blue Moon Lounge, there to celebrate his milestone birthday. I surveyed the handsome Vamp. One thousand years old. In mortal years, Dominic appeared thirty-five, at most.
Gregore’s gaze followed mine. He leaned across the table and said, “Look at Dominic, that devil Vamp, heading to the dance floor. Not a care in the world. I think I might be jealous of him.”
I frowned. “Jealous? How so?”
Gregore snorted. “Because he has the best of all worlds. Just watch him.”
I focused on Dominic, nose to nose with a particularly lovely wench, his hands digging into her buttocks as they danced.
Charlotte plucked a thin cigarette from her jeweled handbag. “You two were correct. This truly is a grand affair.”
“Indeed, my dear,” Edgar said, striking a match and holding it out for her. “It appears America has much to offer us.”
I smiled, thankful to finally have my cherished pack members back in the fold where they belonged.
Tallon glided by. “I’ll be back in a flash with another round.”
I watched as Others of every shape and size danced in the middle of the room. Clearly showing off, Jasper swayed excitedly in front of a group of seductive witches, waving his arms and swiveling his head. Jessamine caught my eye and gestured toward the dancing crowd. I smiled and shook my head. She shrugged and grabbed Franz as he strode past her.
Tallon headed toward our table with chilled cocktails.
“This round is on me,” said Dominic as he approached our table.
Gregore patted the soft cushion. “Sit for a spell, birthday boy. You must be exhausted.”
Dominic sat, his penetrating blue eyes narrowing as he scanned our faces. “This room is exciting, but I guarantee the patrons on the second floor are having a wickedly good time.”
Gregore dragged on a cigarette and blew out a perfectly formed smoky ring. Gazing at me with a glint in his coffee-brown eyes, he said, “Dominic’s an especially naughty Vamp tonight.”
Dominic grinned and stared at me. “You sure you’re not up for a roguish night of debauchery, Derek?”
I swallowed the cocktail warming my lifeless soul and slowly shook my head.
Edgar leaned closer. “The mortals were a divine treat, Dominic. Very festive, indeed. I must say, Charlotte and I haven’t partaken of such hedonistic activities in many decades.”
Charlotte’s tongue darted out and moistened her bottom lip. “He’s right. What can I say?”
For weeks, the upcoming party had been the talk of the city among our kind. After lengthy negotiations, Dominic had managed to procure New York’s most desirable male and female prostitutes. Insisting the luscious mortals modify their usual repertoire, it had cost the lounge owner a pretty penny. He explained that they were to drink their fill of the house specialty cocktail, followed by allowing the Blue Moon patrons whatever they sexually desired.
A woman wearing a sheer white dress, sporting nothing underneath except fiery-red pubic hair, sauntered from table to table offering sugary delicacies.
“Gentleman?” She held out the skillfully decorated pastries on a sterling platter.
My mouth watered. I chose an almond croissant drizzled with dark chocolate.
“Compliments from the owner,” she said.
“Help yourself, fiends,” said Dominic. “These sinful treasures are a birthday gift from a friend of mine.”
The dark chocolate melted against my tongue. I glanced around the large room. Ever since Erin had left for Washington State, it seemed as though my beating heart had stopped dead and withered to black ash. No matter how brief the moment, I welcomed the delicious croissant managing to warm my cold soul.
Gregore shot up. “Let’s dance.”
The small lines around Dominic’s eyes crinkled with amusement at Gregore’s inexorable passion for dance. “Let’s go.”
Others poured in through the metal door, filling every square inch of the lounge. After drinking my fill of cocktail, the stimulating scents of the boisterous immortal crowd filled my head until I thought it would explode. The nagging bulge inside my trousers led me to ponder whether perhaps I, too, should consider partaking of the wicked festivities filling the rooms on the second floor.
A familiar aroma blasted into my nostrils. Instantly, bile rose in my throat, and my heart hammered against my vest. I rubbed my neck trying to smooth the tiny hairs rising along my nape. I inhaled deeply and surveyed the room.
There.
I rose from the chair and cleared my throat. “Excuse me,” I said to Edgar and Charlotte, trying my best to hide the rising alarm flooding my veins.
Charlotte tapped my hand. “Oh, tell me you’re not leaving this fine party.”
Edgar piped up. “Let the man be, my dear. Of course he’s not leaving, right, Derek? Derek?”
Her back faced me, and the air instantly chilled as I slowly approached the group of females conversing in the rear corner of the room.
“Oh, my,” said a fair-haired woman with narrow predatory eyes.
Regine stiffened her spine and spun around. “And who do we have here?” she asked, a look of false innocence drawn upon her pale face. “Why, Derek Rudliff, how long has it been?”
I willed hostile words to form in my throat. Instead, my mouth hung wide open.
“Quite the grand soirée, don’t you agree, chérie?”
I grabbed her elbow. “Excuse us,” I muttered to the group.
“Why, Derek, you only needed to ask —”
“Shut up and come with me.”
Her feet barely hit the floor as I hurried her toward the darkened stairway corridor.
“My heavens, chérie. You always were a royal pain in the ass, and I do mean that quite literally.”
I stopped in my tracks and spun around. Regine slammed into my chest and gasped. I dug my fingers into her shoulders. “Why the hell is it everywhere I go, you manage to follow?”
Regine’s brown eyes flashed with flecks of illuminating golden candlelight. She snorted dramatically. “You flatter yourself.”
“Do I?” My fingers curled, nails digging hard into her collarbone. “Tell me now,” I said between clenched teeth.
Her seething gaze narrowed. “Let go of me before I scream for Dominic.” She pulled from my firm grasp.
“You know Dominic?”
She adjusted her gown and looked at me as though I were insane. “But of course.”
I sighed and raked my hands through my hair. “Enlighten me, Regine. Just how long have you been in New York?”
She fluttered her lashes. “Long enough to firmly establish my new business. You’ve probably heard of Bonbonniere Sweet Shoppe, yes?”
Indeed, I had read about the place. Owned by a group of “innovative females from Europe,” the new establishment flaunting delicious French pastries had been covered many times within the gourmet section of the local newspapers.
“I hope you shared in the sweet delicacies I provided for the party tonight.”
Suddenly, the croissant sitting inside my stomach turned into a boulder, and the loud lounge music screamed inside my head, hindering my thoughts. A woman peered around the corner, watching us. I couldn’t think straight. I had seen her before, but where? I caught her eye, and in a flash, she was gone.
I rubbed my temples and glared at Regine. “Woman, I want you gone.”
Her red eyebrows arched high. “You want what?” I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly. It sounded as though you said —”
“Dammit! You heard me. I want you gone, Regine. I know you’re only here to torment me.”
She inched forward. “You’re a fool, Derek,” she said. “You were always a fool. I’ll have you know it was Rudolpho who insisted we move to New York. You remember him, yes? Your son? Do you still imagine he doesn’t exist?”
Looking at Regine made my skin crawl. The room. The music. Everything. I had to get the hell out of there, and fast. I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“You will do nothing to jeopardize my plans, my business, or our son. Do you understand?”
My fingers curled into fists. I wanted to hit her. I wanted to strike her hard and wipe that arrogant grin from her face. Rather than cause a commotion, I settled for a threatening, throaty growl.
She cocked her head and smiled in a way that caused my chest to tighten. “I know you have the power of your pack behind you now. I, too, have mine. Let me just give you fair warning, Derek. If you
dare stand in the way of Rudolpho becoming King, I’ll inform the authorities of a trail leading straight to a missing college professor.”
Dear God. I swallowed hard.
Queen Regine Delacour tilted her chin high. “Of course, that trail would lead to a certain young female who happened to discover her handsome professor was actually a philandering adulterer.” She leaned in, her lips inches from mine. “Do we understand one another?”
Adieu! Adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
— John Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale”
Part Three
The Reaping
Chapter Sixteen
Everett, Washington
Holding Erin, breathing in her freshly washed hair smelling of rose, feeling her warm, ripe body next to mine, I knew Regine had spoken the truth in the library.
Good God.
At first I had doubted the Alpha She, assuming she sought any excuse to destroy the woman I loved out of jealousy and spite. But the signs were there, just as the evil She queen had claimed. Now I lay wondering: would the child Erin unwittingly carried within her womb be mortal or Were?
Queen Regine Delacour had said she would fight to the death to see Rudolpho as King, not the child I conceived with another woman. And I had come too far to let the wicked bitch destroy all I had worked for.
All I had longed for.
Clearly, protecting Erin and our unborn child from Regine was paramount.
Hundreds of years had passed since I had taken Ersule’s life, and my dream of spending eternity with her was finally within my greedy grasp. But what would I gain once Erin professed her love for me? What would I acquire once I inflicted the mortal wound upon her slender throat? Would I have my meek, submissive Ersule, or my fiery, independent Erin?
And what would become of our unborn child?
My gut curled as I tried to wrap my mind around the persistent contemplation threatening rational thought. Ersule resided somewhere within Erin’s mortal body.