by Anne Ireland
Opening the door of the top room, Angelina went in. She looked about her and then caught her breath as she saw what she sought. She stood absolutely still, half afraid to breathe. The coffin was huge, made of some kind of metal, and open. Her throat closed, and the fear held her frozen to the ground for somemoments before she could force herself to move closer.
Time was fleeting. She needed to do what she had come to do and set her lover free. Making herself approach the coffin, she looked down on the face of her lover as he seemed to sleep.
He was so beautiful. He looked young and perfect, untouched by time or sin. Her heart caught with love and pity. She wanted to reach down and kiss his lips. How could she destroy something she loved?
The chapel clock had begun to strike the hour of twelve. Angelina knew she must act quickly. Raising her arm, she held the weapon poised above him for an instant. Then she took a deep breath, her throat tight with fear as she drove the stake through his chest as hard as she could. Raphael's eyes flew open, and her courage almost failed, but then she found new strength, and she hammered the deadly wooden stake deep into his heart. She had expected blood, but there was a mere trickle from the side of his mouth. Then, so quickly that she could not believe her eyes, his beautiful face began to disintegrate before her gaze, and his gorgeous body crumpled into a pile of dust.
“No!” She gave a cry of anguish. This was not what was supposed to happen. Angelina moaned with despair. She had thought he would rise up, become a man . . . become the lover from her dreams in the flesh.
She had destroyed him. He would never come to her again. As the sobs of despair and grief broke from her, Angelina ran from the room and down the steps. She was filled with bitter regret as she let herself into the castle and hurried up to her room, where she threw herself on the bed and sobbed as her heart broke and broke again.
Raphael was her love, her only love, her soul and her heart. She had been brought here to save him, but now she would never see him again. He had gone, and she was alone.
* * * * Angelina woke as she became aware that someone was in her room. She pushed herself up against the pillows, blinking as she saw the sun shining in through her window. Her eyes felt sore from weeping, and there was an empty place inside her. She had slept but little, and no dreams had come to pleasure her.
“You must eat your breakfast and then get up and bathe,” Mrs. Macintyre told her. “The marquis has sent word. He is but an hour away. He will be here before you are ready.” “My husband is coming?” Angelina’s heart hammered in her breast. She sipped a little of the hot chocolate the housekeeper had brought her and ate the corner of a roll, but she was too nervous to eat very much.
When the housekeeper brought her hot water and a fresh gown, she washed and dressed in a favorite morning gown of pale yellow, wearingthe pearls her father had given her as his wedding gift.
What would the marquis be like? He had told her that she must be prepared to leave soon after he arrived. Her trunks were packed—but what kind of a man was he?
“Oh, Raphael . . .” she whispered, “I can never love any other man as I loved you, my one and only love.” Raphael was gone. She had set him free from the curse, as he had begged her, but it meant she would be forever alone. Her body ached for his touch, and she hardly knew how she would bear it.
She was just about to go down to the great hall to await her husband when she heard a sound that sent chills shooting through her. The door to her husband’s bedchamber was opening slowly.
She turned, clasping her hands before her, willing herself not to show fear whatever he looked like. She had married him in good faith, and she must not betray him even if he were a monster. Besides, she no longer had the dreams that had given her such sensual pleasure.
The door had opened wide, and a man walked through them. She stared at him, her eyes opening wide in shock as she looked and saw . . . the man of her dreams. Tall and strong with hair that reminded her of sunbeams, his eyes as blue as a summer sky.
“Raphael . . .” she breathed, and her heart caught. She was trembling, feeling near faint as he walked towards her. “You can’t be . . . I am dreaming . . . Surely this is a dream?”
“No, I am here. I am flesh and blood. I can touch you and love you, as I have longed to do for so many lonely years.” “My love . . .” She moved towards him in wonder, her heart racing. Already she could feel the moisture dampening her inner thighs. Her lips parted on a breath of welcome as she awaited his kiss. “I do not understand . . . I saw . . .”
The distance between them was closed. He drew her hard against him, his kiss demanding, hungry, and needy. His tongue sought hers as her lips parted to allow his entry, exploring her warmth and her sweetness. Angelina’s body was suffused with pleasure so wild and delicious that it was almost sinful. She could feel the burn of his arousal, and moved her hand down to cover, stroke, and feel the hard length of him, bringing a groan from his lips. He was real. He was flesh and blood and here in her arms. Her pulse raced as the desire surged.
“Angelina . . . I have wanted to feel your hands on me for so long,” he said. “I planned to leave at once for London, but I think our journey must wait for a few hours.”
“Oh yes, yes . . . make love to me now,” she pleaded, pressing herself against him. “I love you, want you so much.” Their hunger was too great to be denied. Angelina’s favorite gown was somehow stripped away and thrown to the floor with his breeches and shirt. Their hands worked with feverish haste as they laughed and helped eachother disrobe. She kissed his chest, moving her fingers through the sprinkling of hair that arrowed down to his huge erect rod. She thrust back his fine shirt, moving her fingers slowly over the satiny smoothness of his shoulders and his back. She was panting, too impatient for the love that had been denied so long.
“Patience, my darling,” Raphael murmured against her ear. “You have been waiting but a few months. I have waited for centuries.”
“Truly?” She looked up at him. “Could no other woman have set you free?” He shook his head, gazing at her with eyes that seemed to sear her flesh with their heat, devouring every inch of her lovely body. She reached out to caress his cheek with her fingertips, then bent her head, licking at the hollow in his throat to taste his sweat.
“I longed for you to take me every night,” she told him. “Why did you never possess me?” “If I had taken you . . . if one drop of my essence had entered your body . . . you would have been as I was, condemned to live forever in torment, feeding on the blood of the poor wretches who came your way, or animals. I loved you too much to come near you for fear that I should lose control. It was not my touch you felt, but the power of my mind as I sent you dreams, erotic dreams that made you moan so sweetly I could hardly resist coming to you in your bed.”
“With a touch of your breath, you gave more pleasure than I knew existed,” Angelina said. She took his hand, her first impatience done as she led him to the bed and they both lay down. For a few moments they just lay side by side, gazing into each other’s eyes, and then he reached out for her. His fingers trailed down her cheek, her throat, his hand trembling with the force of his passion.
“Now I am here, and we shall see if the man can match the dreams,” he murmured with a throaty laugh. “Come here, my hot little wanton, and let me show you what love can be.”
Angelina gave a gurgle of laughter as she moved towards him, the feeling of his warm lips against her skin setting butterflies of sensation fluttering all over her body. His kisses made her cry out. She arched and moaned as he laved her breasts with the tip of his tongue, using long, slow movements that made her whimper like a kitten beneath the hand of its master.
He nibbled at her neck, kissed her earlobe, licked at the hollow at her throat, his hands stroking the length of her thigh, sliding over theskin like silk against silk. A sigh left her lips, and she gave a little whimper of pleasure. His kisses trailed down to her breasts, sensitizing the peaks until she moaned and pleaded, want
ing him inside her, wanting the fulfillment she had been so long denied, but stillhe waited.
His tongue flicked at her midriff, down, down to the moist damp patch of dark curls that covered her mound. Angelina was aflame with desire, writhing beneath his skillful caress, crying out in her need. His mouth found her nub andsucked at it gently as she screamed her pleasure aloud and tangled her fingers in his hair. She arched and whimpered, her breath coming faster and faster as he teased her to the point where she could no longer bear it.
“If you leave me now, I shall die,” she whispered, for it was always at this point that her dream had ended. “I shall not leave you until we both die a natural death,” Raphael promised. She felt the heat of his rod pressing into her thigh. He lifted himself, teasing her as he nudged at her moist opening, and then suddenly plunged deep inside her.
The shock took her breath. She screamed out, her nails raking his shoulder. “Raphael . . .” she moaned. “My love . . .” Raphael cried out as he entered her, his shout of triumph matching hers of release as she felt him push deeper and deeper. She wanted all of him, opening wider as he thrust himself to the hilt, filling her, stretching her. She arched and writhed beneath him. She clutched at his shoulders as she rose to meet him again and again, and she scored his flesh with her nails as she screamed in ecstasy.
“Yes . . . yes . . . that is so good . . . so good . . .”
“You are as I knew you would be,” Raphael murmured against her throat. “I have waited so long, but I would bear it again for the pleasure of having you like this.” Their bodies writhed and strained, both hungry for the release they sought. When it came at last, it was tumultuous, like a raging tide that carried them rushing to the shore, casting them up at last to lie in peace. Limbs entangled, they lay for a while, just holding each other, satiated, overcome by the emotion of their loving.
It was a while before Angelina could speak. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she nestled against his shoulder and tasted the salt of his sweat. “There are so many things I need to know,” she said, looking at him as he raised his head to look into her eyes. “How did you know that I would do as you asked and break the curse?”
“I did not.” Raphael smiled as he kissed her, then stroked the satin arch of her back with his fingers, making her murmur and press close once more. She trembled, lifting her face for his kiss. Soft and sweet, it touched something deep within her, bringing tears to her eyes. She knew then that he truly loved her beyondthe passion of his body. “I knew it was a terrible thing to ask. I hoped that your love would be strong enough to do what had to be.”
“I thought I had lost you forever.” She kissed his shoulder and trailed the smoothness of his body with the tips of her fingers, feeling themuscles flex beneath the skin. “I did not know how I should bear it, Raphael. How did you know that this would happen?”
“I did not know,” he said and touched her bottom lip with his fingertip. She smiled and bit it, laughing at him. Raphael laughed softly andgazed down at her.
“I prayed that once the curse had gone we would have another chance. I had lived too long alone, for only at night for a few hours could I be as you saw me. I moved from country to country, transported by unsuspecting servants. Some nights were longer, the hours of darkness enough for me to search for the woman I sought. You were just in time last night. Another few seconds and I should have been the creature I was when I killed Frederick—and I might have killed you. When I woke as a vampire, the lust for blood was so strong that I might not have known what I did . . .”
Angelina felt his shudder and knew that it was what he had feared above all. He had sent her dreams because he dare not come to her, even though he took human form in the hours between midnight and dawn. For years he had somehow existed, making brief appearances to retain his claim on his lands and fortune, but never staying long in one place for fear that someone would discover the monster he was—but no longer.
He was hers now. Her own love. Hers to have and to hold for the rest of their lives. Looking down into his face, she laughed as she felt his maleness harden once more. His mouth was soft and loose with desire, and she bent to kiss it, then began licking him with the tip of her tongue, flicking at him so that he cried out with pleasure. He laughed up at her, his eyes bright with mischief.
“Are you hungry again so soon?” she asked as he crushed her to him, his face working with the force of his need.
“I have been waiting for longer than you can imagine.”
“Then I should make some recompense,” she whispered and pushed him back into the softness of the feather mattress. “I shall show you how it feels to want more.” She started with the hollow at the base of his throat, licking it delicately with her tongue, then kissed her way down his chest, following the arrowhead of hair to the source of his maleness. Bending her head, she began to lick along its length, stroking the thick, long rod that quivered and jumped at her touch, making him growl with pleasure. She wriggled down further so that she could take him into her mouth, tasting the musk of their earlier loving. She sucked and moved her mouth backwards and forwards as he arched and moaned, his hands clutching at the sheets as she gave him the kind of pleasure he had given her so many nights. Then, when she sensed he was near to coming, she left him, looking down at his face, seeing the torment and pleasure combined.
She kneeled up in the bed, then lifted her right leg over him, and, settling herself on him, she leaned down to kiss his lips. Her kisses were light and meant to tease. His tongue came into her, dancing with hers so that they both moaned low in their throats. Then she lifted herself and came down on him very slowly . . . so slowly that he gasped and his hands reached for her hips. He clasped her and brought her down hard on him and then lifted her again and brought her down once more.
She arched back, her breath coming faster as she panted with pleasure. Then she leaned forward, her breasts in his face. He took one intohis mouth, sucking at the nipple, his hands cupping her, kneading and squeezing gently until she cried out. She lifted herself and came down on him again, but he groaned and rolled her over beneath him in the bed, lifting her hips with his hands so that he could thrust into her deeper. Deeper and faster, in and out, again and again, until they both gave a great cry and collapsed together in the tumbled sheets.
The first time she had wept. This time Angelina laughed, sure now of her power to arouse him as he aroused her.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I shall love you until I die.”
And then she slept.
* * * * Angelina looked round the ballroom. Glittering chandeliers lit by a myriad of candles threw light onto the beautiful gowns and costly jewels of the ladies and gentlemen dancing. She was dressed as fine as any of them, as was her husband. Since coming to London, Raphael had showered gifts of clothes and jewels on her.
She had become, as she had once dreamed, the toast of the Season. She was aware that men watched her as she walked by, and that they whispered she was the most beautiful lady of the Season, but she took no notice. They were both being feted and fussed over by curious men and women who had been agog to meet the Marquis of Sancerre and his beautiful wife. Angelina had seen several of the ladies cast envious looks at her, and she knew they flirted desperately with him when they had a chance.
He was as handsome and popular as she was beautiful. Everyone spoke of them as being a charmed couple, for it seemed they had everything—wealth, position, lands, and love.
It was only the love that mattered. Angelina knew that she would still have loved Raphael if they had nothing but each other.
“Have you had enough, darling?” Raphael's breath was warm against her ear as he whispered his request to leave. She smiled and gave him her hand, knowing that he was as impatient to be alone with her as she was with him.
They had been married—truly married—for two months now, and they could still not get enough of each other. Angelina’s breath came faster as he hurried her out to where their carriage waited
.
Alone in the darkness of the closed carriage, Raphael reached for her, drawing her hand to his breeches, where she felt the hardness of his iron-hard erection.
“I could not wait another moment,” he said huskily. “All those men ogling you, stripping you naked with their eyes. It was intolerable.” Angelina gurgled with laughter as she went on her knees before him in the carriage, unbuttoning his breeches and slipping her hand inside to draw him out. Knowing what he wanted, she bent her head and began to tease and caress him with her tongue, making him moan and gasp with pleasure.
He reached out for her, drawing her up onto his lap, her skirts bunched up as he lifted her, and then brought her down on him hard. She gasped, clutching at his shoulders, a cry of delight as the delicious sensations moved in her.
“If we make too much noise, your coachman will be shocked,” she murmured wickedly, close to his ear. “This is hardly the way for a respectable married couple to behave, my lord.”
“It would be a damned sight less respectable if we were not married,” he quipped. “If he hears anything, he will just think that I am a lucky fellow—as I am.” Raphael moved her back against the seats so that he could assume the dominant position, thrusting into her so deeply that she could not stop the scream of pleasure that escaped her lips.
“Now who is making all the noise?” he murmured, a triumphant smile in his eyes. Angelina laughed and nibbled at his ear. “I daresay neither of us cares much for convention,” she said. “I was so lonely until you found me, Raphael. I think I had been waiting for you, even though I did not know it until you first came to me in dreams.”
He moaned softly as he came in her, the warm semen shooting into her moist center. “We had been waiting for each other for far too long,” he said and grinned at her. “And that is why I have no intention of wasting a thought on convention. I shall make love to my beautiful wife as often and wherever I please.”