“We’ve heard such talk, but I have to say, Lionel, Freya and I have dismissed it as fear mongering,” barked Salvatore Dominicelli.
“Well, here’s perhaps something else to consider. Marcus agrees with me that it would be good for Phoebe to be in the company of Anne, who was once herself human, and has taken the change, and borne a child to Marcus. The experience of the turning, accepting her new lifestyle, is fresh in Anne’s history. She could be the perfect teacher—to prepare Phoebe for her new duties, some day.” Lionel’s voice trailed off at the suggestion that perhaps she’d find another to become her fated husband, someone of the Golden clan.
He could feel his bride’s defiance, prickling the hairs on his forearms and thighs, making his mouth parched. He had to force himself not to look at her. He knew the only instruction Phoebe wanted was something only he could satisfy.
“You’d agree to the turning, daughter?” asked her father.
“No, I haven’t agreed. I’m still obtaining information about what is involved in maintaining a true vampire wife’s lifestyle.”
Her eyes were half-lidded but showed fire inside which spurred Lionel’s libido. He needed to get this negotiation concluded quickly as his urge to be alone again with Phoebe was eclipsing his decorum.
“But you will consider it?” her father persisted.
Lionel wanted to whisk her away in his arms when his bride demurely whispered, “Yes, father. It is a decision I’m becoming more and more warmed to. I understand my capacity to love will be greatly enhanced by the turning. I want to live my life to the fullest, and I no longer want to be a burden to you, or to my husband here.”
His burden was bulging between his legs as he fully understood her double meaning. He could smell her arousal and it was driving him insane.
Freya Dominicelli lifted her hand from Phoebe’s lap and sat erect. “Well, I’d like a few days to get used to the idea of my daughter being gone from my household. And I’d like to make sure with Marcus that this is indeed a welcomed invitation.”
“Of course, dear lady,” Lionel mused.
“What’s to consider? You can go with them as they travel, or you can visit very soon. We could both go,” said her father.
“And leave the boys unprotected?” she asked.
“They were at camp. We let them go places with their protection nearly every week.”
“Not across the ocean, where tracing is problematic these days, husband.”
“If it makes the decision any clearer for you, Mrs. Dominicelli, we would be residing inside the Monteleone compound, inside Marcus and Anne’s villa, not in a separate dwelling, much the same as the arrangement here,” informed Lionel. He waited for what he’d hoped would be open permission.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Let them go, Freya. You have to let her go some day. The older she becomes, the more and more dangerous it is for her to remain here. This is, I think, the perfect solution. It would give her space to make this decision without our meddling. And under Marcus’ protection, as well as with the loving devotion we have here with Lionel, she is far better off than here with us and the boys.” He turned to face Lionel straight on. “I give my permission.”
All eyes were on Freya, who had begun to cry. Phoebe embraced her.
“No one could keep me safer than Lionel, and with Marcus and his family, and the Jett brothers, surely you see it’s the perfect solution.” She kissed her mother on the cheek. “And, it’s what I want.”
Chapter 4
Phoebe felt like she nearly had the powers of tracing as she flew up the stairway with urgency to the privacy of their bedroom. The deep musky blast of scent coming from her husband’s bed made her dizzy, all while every cell in her body soaked in the lovely aura. She heard his heavy footsteps behind her, heard the door close and the lock turn with delicious metal on metal scraping.
Then she felt his warm body standing still behind her. She turned toward him.
His eyes were warm pools of molten chocolate framed between lines on his flesh that would never form into deep creases as most men aged. He’d remain just the same as he appeared today, no matter the centuries.
His breathing was deep, and his head slightly turned to one side. His lips formed a smirk, the end on his right side turning upward as if protecting a deep scar resident there.
He was in every way the lover, the husband, the boyfriend and the dark man she dreamed about all throughout her young years. And now in the flesh, his body dangerously close to hers, she understood the full meaning of adulthood, of her responsibilities to her family. She understood the power of his desire to not only love her and protect her but to save her in every way possible.
Lionel’s raspy voice barely whispered a question. “Say something Phoebe. Say anything.” He stepped toward her, their torsos touching, pressing against one another, feeling the rhythm of their steady breathing.
“I know what love is Lionel and I know that I now share the heritage of generations of mortal vampire maidens still unturned but willing to accept the bed of their husbands for all eternity. I cannot understand the decision anyone would make to not turn to be with their true mate at night. You know this is what I desire, Lionel.”
He placed his hands beneath her jaw and kissed her. Her attempts to deepen the kiss were rebuffed. He held her head steady, not allowing her to approach further.
“I know. I feel it too Phoebe. God help me, I feel it too.”
He caught several strands of hair covering her forehead and eyes and tucked them in gently behind her ears. His four fingers traced the line around her lips he studied as if knowing their future.
“Phoebe, it is a miracle your parents have agreed to your request. But there’s one thing I need to express to you, my sweetheart. We cannot consummate this marriage no matter how this feeling grows. If we do, it will muck up all of the research I must perform to find a way for us to be together… it will make it impossible for that to occur. Do you understand this?”
“I do. But I’m not sure I can do what you request.”
She allowed her arms to come up to his neck tugging on the curls at the back of his skull, sifting and searching, her spirit full of hope, and letting him feel the heavy thump of her heart. She wished she could give him so much more.
His quick growl surprised her. Then his enormous hands grabbed and pressed her buttocks into his groin lifting her from the ground. As she entangled her legs around his hips her arms rose up to the ceiling. He buried his mouth in the side of her neck.
She angled her head to the side, luxuriating in the feel of this course beard as he opened his mouth, his tongue grazing over her vein as her pulse quickened. Instead of plunging to drink from her he applied gentle suction, making her ears buzz and her sex quiver. It left her breathless.
His nibbling kisses traced upward until he bit her earlobe, coaxing and playing with it with his tongue. She heard the familiar words expressed that were centuries old, the ancient incantations in Latin. Then came something in Italian and something otherworldly. The clicks of this tongue made her shudder. Raspy and sounding like the wind in some lonely desert that lasted for a thousand years and didn’t understand his words.
But her body understood their meaning.
“I desire you more Phoebe than all the universe. Just know that I will have you some day. Please understand it is something I need and shall have before I die.”
She arched back to stare at him. “Die?” She was not sure where this was coming from. “Lionel, what are you saying?”
He focused on her lips as she covered his to stop him from speaking further as if it was blasphemy for him to do so. She demanded an answer. Her fingertips felt him smile beneath their touch as if he was soaking up every cell of her body. Pressing and kneading her rear again, his powerful hands undulated her up and down over his package.
His eyes became mischievous. “I love to see you lust for me my sweet. It is exquisite.”
“But i
t’s unfair it’s—it’s so unfair Lionel.”
“You forget that I have lived for over 300 years my dear. What is waiting for one more day, one night or one month?”
“But I don’t want to wait. Don’t you understand? I need to be mated to you.”
“And you are, little one. Very nearly in every way, except one.”
A hush fell between them. The world was completely silent.
“You know what I mean. Don’t play with me. Be my teacher, my lover, my husband.”
His gentle laughter both soothed and aggravated her mood at the same time. She wanted to shout, to slap him or do something to shake the current impasse between them. She was about to launch into another protest when he interrupted her gently, his voice wooing and glamming her into submission. She felt her will soften as she fell against him.
“Phoebe, my princess. Understand that if Marcus and I are successful in our research we could have centuries together. We will be loving for perhaps thousands of years. Why risk it all for our impatience? For just one night together? That is why I enjoy your desire for me. I know even if there isn’t a God of vampires that your God—your mortal God—your Golden clan God of love—whatever I am to call him, will grant me—will grant us his favor someday. I know it just as certain as I know I live now and will live forever.”
“Hold me tight tonight Lionel. And then peel these layers between our bodies off me. Love me as if I were your fated vampire female. Perhaps take me to the edge right up to the very edge when I can take no more. Will you take me there, husband? Make it almost too close? Make it dangerous please?”
“I will my lady. I will do my very best to do your bidding tonight. And tomorrow we will fly to California with the Monteleones if we can. We must wait until the evening, but we will go with them. And we shall start our new adventure together and build our lives of forever in California, my sweet.”
He let go of her rear allowing her to slide down the front of him, her arms still entwined about his neck. Then he abruptly picked her up, crossed the room in one long stride and gently lay her back on the large carved bed. All the stories, the visions and dreams of her childhood were carved into the relief of that four-poster bed. She saw the ceiling fabric stretched across the arch of the woodwork come alive with village scenes of people moving about town as if it was a home movie.
He slipped her bodice over her shoulders, pulling it down onto her forearms. Meticulously, he pulled the fabric down further uncovering her breasts. With her arms bound to her sides by her own clothing, he bent his head and encircled her aching nipples with his tongue, rubbing his sharp incisor across the deep pink of her areolas. Her fingers and hands could do nothing but clutch the sides of her skirts as he tenderly kissed between her breasts, then beneath them, and slowly covered her upper body with them. He savored her flesh, moving up to her neck again, and under her chin before he claimed her mouth again. She gave herself in tender submission begging him for more with her kisses in response. She answered his deep-seated growls with her own desperate moans.
His knees straddled the sides of her hips as he pulled her up to sitting position and fingered the twenty-seven buttons of her bodice top releasing her to the coldness of the night. He tossed it to the ground, then unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down her thighs. As he arched up to look down upon her, she was left helpless and wanting, aching for his touch, with only red panties to defend her womanhood.
She covered her breasts with her hands and slid up to the top of the massive bed, burying her head in the pillows. His muscled body worked to disrobe quickly, until he was fully naked.
Distracted by something, he looked up to the window, traced across the room and closed the massive shutters, locking them in safely, barricading whatever was in the night from their private, intimate space. At last he came to her.
She slipped beneath the coverlet and he joined her there. His hands roamed her body, kissing her navel, nibbling the sides of her hips and then raising her knee up over his shoulder. He kissed her sex, his tongue plunging in deep. The gentle undulation pleasured her. She felt the wave of his glam as she watched him feed between her legs. Her fingers sorted through the top of his head.
Slowly, he pressed her right thigh to the side placing his fingers at her opening and pressed her bud with his thumb. She arched up, calling his name, her fingers covering his hand, and then reaching out to him, begging for his tongue inside her again. His canine pricked the soft tissues there. She felt the gentle tug on her labia as he sucked and repaired his tender violation, his tongue massaging her stiff little pulsing bud.
She never wanted it to end.
He was a careful lover, his ministrations growing stronger with the pressure applied. With his fingers and expert mouth, he would take her just to the threshold of orgasm and then gently allow her to cool. Each time she got closer and closer to her peak, until finally she exploded, feeling the fire of his love deep within her body.
As her body shuddered its final release, he drew from her everything she had until at last she was fully drained. Her limp sweating body felt like a rag doll. She was unable to even move her arms. She wrapped her legs around his and, safely tucked in his arms, gently drifted off to a place she’d never been.
And that’s the last she remembered of that evening—the evening before he would take her to California. She had a fleeting thought just before she dozed off, wondering if the vineyards in the hills in California would smell like the beloved hills and valleys of Tuscany where she’d spent her entire life. She wondered if in the blushing grapes and green vineyards of Sonoma County that there would be a place for this almost vampire mortal woman who wanted nothing more than to take her place and be his woman in every way possible. Would they find a new life there? Would she be able to withstand the days or weeks or months of waiting? And was their fating foretold in the famous documents Lionel said he was researching with Marcus?
There was so much to understand, so much to know. They had, as Lionel had reminded her, centuries to do so. But only if she took the turning.
She knew that decision was coming upon her quickly as she heard the morning birds chirping in the beginning of the new morning. She saw Lionel walking with her and the full light of day, hand in hand, strolling through the bucolic valley floor of her new home. She hoped the dreams ruminating in her heart and in her head where half as good as what her future would look like in real time.
Chapter 5
Lionel knew dusk was upon them but allowed Phoebe to continue to sleep. He remembered that she’d tossed and turned, and he wondered if she’d gotten up to wander the house, since it was her last few hours there.
Her pink aura was nestled amongst the untucked and strangely positioned comforters from their limited and one-sided lovemaking in the early morning hours before sunrise. With the evening fast approaching, he also recalled being awakened during his sleep by sounds of the household staff moving things inside the large villa. There was a part of him that wanted to help the preparations.
He was careful not to disturb Phoebe while he dressed and went downstairs in search of her parents.
Mr. Dominicelli was drinking a brandy in his office and offered him one.
“I thank you sir. But no. My day is just beginning.”
“Understood. Well I’m afraid Freya has not slept last night after you retired and today has been napping off and on.”
“Is your wife ill, sir?”
“No. Just impossible to satisfy. Fidgeting with everything. Speaking in sentences she doesn’t finish. That sort of thing. Distracted.”
“Phoebe has been restless as well. Perhaps they talked some when I was sleeping?”
“Doubt it. Freya would have told me.” Mr. Dominicelli finished his Brandy and poured himself another. “You sure?” he said as he held the decanter up.
“Thank you, sir. I’m fine.”
Phoebe’s father watched the last of the servants leave through the front door, each carrying cardboard packi
ng boxes. “This has been quite a day. She’s exhausted. She’s anxious.”
“I understand. Only natural. I think we all are on edge a bit. What about you?”
The Golden lord leaned toward him, staring straight with his dark eyes looking for something deep within his heart. “I am really of no consequence these days, Lionel. I live to protect her, and the boys, now that you are here. But this is so important to Freya. I know you understand that she loves her daughter dearly. I fear she would no longer want to remain alive if anything were to happen to dear Phoebe.”
“I feel for her. Of course I do.”
“I apologize if this is adding a burden on you, Lionel, but I must request that Phoebe check in with Freya. Every day, if she can.”
“You can count on it, sir. I will see to it that she does this. And thank you again sir for your trust and faith in me.”
Dominicelli put his arm on Lionel’s shoulder. “It is getting to be so dangerous everywhere. Such strange times.”
“Sir? Has there been something new that I am not aware of?”
“I have received information from one of our family protectors that there is a new stranger in Tuscany who has traveled far and is keenly interested in our particular branch of the family. I’m told he has a fondness for young Golden females.”
“A dark vampire?”
“We believe he could be, or he could be mortal. We understand that he has been living off the Golden blood of young virgins.”
Lionel stiffened with this new knowledge that perhaps the evil one he left in the desert might have somehow survived and come to do harm. Perhaps get even.
Midnight Bite Page 3