by Tawny Taylor
Gently, she wrapped the book in the packaging the seller had sent it in and then gift wrapped the box. No sooner did she have the last piece of tape in place when a knock sounded at her door.
She didn’t walk to the door, she ran, the box cradled in her arms. She opened the door and shoved the gift into his arms.
“What’s this?” he asked, clearly stunned.
She grabbed his arm and pulled, coaxing him into the apartment. “A present.”
“For what?”
“For…because…” She took a deep breath, in, out. “I guess it would be an I’m-sorry gift.”
Still looking puzzled, he shook his head. “You have no reason to be sorry.”
“Yes, I do. I wasn’t exactly open minded when you told me about…you being special. And I’m sorry.”
“Oh Wynne. You don’t need to apologize for that.” He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “I didn’t expect you to believe me right away. It’s not like I told you this isn’t my natural hair color. I was asking you to believe the impossible.”
He still hadn’t opened the box, dammit. He needed to open it before she tore into it herself.
Wynne pointed at the gift. “Won’t you please open it? I’m dying, here.”
He visibly sighed. “Okay.” He methodically removed each piece of tape, unfolded the wrapping paper, opened the box, and removed the packing as if he was uncovering a priceless artifact in an archeological excavation. It was excruciating to watch. Absolute torture.
He did it on purpose.
But the flash of amazement in his eyes when he finally saw the book was worth every sacrifice, every agonizing minute she’d waited. She felt like her heart was about to explode, she was so happy and excited.
He looked at her as if she were an angel offering him eternal salvation. “Wynne?”
About to cry—she was getting way too weepy these days—she cupped her hands over her mouth and sniffled. “Vampire or not, Dierk, I love you.”
He set down the book and swept her into his arms, and oh yes, it felt so good and so right and so natural. He lifted her chin and kissed her until she saw stars and then he kissed her some more, and her mind went totally blank.
All that mattered was this moment and this man. His arms, enfolding her body; his lips, tasting and taking; his tongue, plunging into her mouth and filling it with his sweet flavor; and his body, hard and hot.
She would not, could not, let him go. Not now, not ever. And she was determined to make that perfectly clear by the end of the night.
While he kissed her to oblivion, she slipped her hands into his shirt and stroked the warm, smooth skin she found beneath it. His pecs were hard bulges covered by warm satin, his nipples tight little peaks that grew rigid beneath her fingertips. Eyes closed, and still totally lost in his kisses, she unfastened each button and pushed the shirt down his arms. It finally fell to the floor.
Now, the pants.
She reached for his belt but he caught her hands in his fists and forced them behind her back. Ohhh, yes, how she loved being dominated! She sighed into their joined mouths and then gave a little squeal when he caught her up in his arms.
He carried her with such ease, as if she weighed as little as a child. Across the living room and down the hall he hurried. He stopped at the end. “Which one?”
“There.” She pointed at her bedroom door.
“Okay.” He gave the door a kick, making it swing open, carried her to the bed, and set her down. His gaze was smoldering hot, and she physically felt it as it swept up and down her body, like the lick of a flame.
“Take me, Dierk. I’m yours.” She pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside.
Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He moved closer, every muscle in his arms, shoulders, and chest tight, rippling and bulging. He looked fierce and dangerous, like a predator stalking its prey, and she couldn’t help squirming on the bed, her body so inflamed with need she wanted to cry.
“If we take this step, there’s no going back,” he warned. “I won’t be able to let you go.”
“Please, Dierk. I want you. I need you.”
His expression softened a tiny bit. “Baby, I need you, too. More than you know.” This time, his kiss was soft and sweet; at least, it was for a short time. But as it continued, it grew bolder, more possessive, and she was more than happy for it. Just as she was more than happy to let him gradually strip away the rest of her clothes, one piece at a time.
When she was fully nude, he stopped kissing her, but only long enough to give her one up and down look that sent shudders of need rippling through her body.
“Undress me now.” He straightened up, and she scrambled off the bed, eagerly getting to work doing exactly what he’d asked. The shoes came off first, then the socks, belt, pants, underwear.
His body was a work of art, truly. A study in male perfection, from his thick mane of wavy hair to his well-formed feet, and every single inch in between. And his cock…It was thick and long and hard and she couldn’t wait to feel it gliding in and out of her at last. She’d been denied that pleasure for far too long.
He climbed up on the bed and pulled her onto it with him. But when she tried to lie down, he stopped her. “No.” He reclined back, took his cock in his hand, and gave it a slow swipe up and down. Her mouth filled with saliva. “I have been dreaming of you taking me in your mouth.”
“Oh yes, Dierk.” She bent over, replaced his hand with hers, gave his thick rod a couple of strokes, and then opened her mouth and pulled the round head inside. He tasted so good, impossibly good. She drew hard, sucking him in deeper, and skimmed her flattened hands up his thick thighs. His leg muscles were hard as concrete beneath her fingertips.
She moaned, relaxed her throat, and took him deeper, and her effort was rewarded with a deep, rumbling groan of raw male need.
This was right. It was perfect. The moment she had dreamed of, hoped for, waited for. Please, don’t let it end.
Spurred by the sound of Dierk’s labored breathing, she settled into a steady rhythm, moving up and down, his cock slipping down her throat and back out again. She stopped every now and then to swirl her tongue round the head like a lollipop. With every stroke, lick, and suck, her own body grew tighter, her need burning hotter.
“Enough.” He gently lifted her head, hands cupped around the sides.
When her gaze met his, the fire burning in her body flared brighter. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and he sweetly wiped it away.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, my beautiful, sweet little slave. Tell me you won’t ever take another Master.”
“There can be only one Master for this slave, and he’s you. I have always belonged to you, and I always will.”
He kissed her again and again and again, until she had to drag in little gulps of air and she felt like she would die if that cock wasn’t inside her right now.
He forced her onto her back, pushed her knees out, and settled his hips between her thighs, and she smiled up into his eyes, knowing he was about to mark her as his for the rest of her life. His cock pushed at her entry. It slipped inside and surged deep, and her back tightened, arching. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids.
So full. He fit her perfectly.
She looked up, reached for him, but he wove his fingers between hers and pressed her hands back down, pinning them to the mattress. He slid his hips back, withdrawing almost entirely, then slammed them forward.
Oh the agony and ecstasy, both.
There were no ropes or chains or leather cuffs. There were no benches or crosses or tables. It didn’t matter. They weren’t needed. He had her submission, her surrender. She gladly relinquished all she was and all she had to him. Her decadent lover. Her Master. Her everything.
And he accepted her offering with clear appreciation. They had an understanding without needing to write out a list o
f rules. There was no need for safe words or limits.
They were one, in mind.
Their bodies worked as one, his strong, hard form and her softer one. They withdrew and met in a rhythm that met the thrumming need pulsing through their beings.
They were one, in body.
And as their need built, they touched and caressed each other, sharing the emotions they had been forced to stifle for so long. There were no words exchanged: there was no need for words. Their energies swirled and churned, coursing through Dierk’s body before charging through Wynne’s. She was his and he was hers. She was him. He was her.
They were one, in spirit.
When they reached climax, they soared over the crest together. The energy pulsing through them increased a hundred times. It tingled and buzzed and zapped through every cell in Wynne’s body as she shuddered. She had never felt so powerful, so alive or strong.
She laughed and cried and clung to Dierk’s sweat-slicked body as he surged forward, giving one final thrust. And then spent, he kissed her face, her shoulders, her hair, rolled off of her, and pulled her into his arms.
“Ohmygod,” she said, feeling like she’d just done the world’s best drug. Her head was spinning. Her body was twitching all over. And she still felt like she was strong enough to pick up a small car and toss it. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.”
Dierk gave her a pat. “You thought that was something. We’re just getting started.”
Smiling, she took his hand and placed it between her legs. “I was hoping you were going to say that.”
22
Dierk couldn’t recall the last time he felt like this, like the rest of his life was hinged on the outcome of one critical moment, a decision that wasn’t his to make.
He knew his brother Shadow loved him.
He knew Shadow wished to see him happy.
But he also knew Shadow was bound by a law that had been set in place eons ago, one that had a purpose.
If the king gave anyone permission to step beyond the law, he could face the worst consequences.
That couldn’t happen. Much more than one man’s happiness was at stake. The stability of a kingdom, for one.
Dierk hesitated. He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be asking this favor, and he wouldn’t if he had possessed the strength to deny Wynne her greatest wish. He loved her too much not to try.
No, he loved her too much to fail. He would pay any price to make her his forever.
“His Majesty will you see now,” the king’s secretary repeated, standing at the open door to His Majesty’s private office.
“Thank you.” Dierk dragged his sweaty palms down the sides of his legs, lifted his chin and, ignoring the heavy pounding of his heart, entered the room. As expected, his brother was sitting at his desk, his head lowered, reading a piece of paper he held in his hands. Dierk stopped just inside the room and waited for his brother to wave him over.
It took what felt like an eternity for the king to lift his head. “My brother.” Shadow motioned, welcoming Dierk with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to speak with you.” He stood, motioning toward a set of chairs sitting in front of the empty fireplace. “Come, tell me how things are going. I’ve grown weary of heavy political issues.”
“I wish I could tell you I’ve come to amuse you, brother, but I’m afraid it’s for a much more weighty matter.”
“Oh really?” The king sat, crossed an ankle over his knee. “What matter is that?”
Dierk sat, mirroring his brother’s position. “I need to speak about the Joining.”
His brother’s eyebrows lifted. “Continue.”
“I understand it’s against the law for any man but the king to pursue the Joining with a mortal woman. But I find myself here, prepared to beg, to grovel, for permission to do just that.”
His brother chuckled. “Isn’t it amusing how something so small and seemingly powerless can cut us down?”
“It is.”
The king’s eyes glittered with laughter. “My enemies can’t destroy me—though they’ve tried—but one unkind look from my wife would devastate me. She weighs less than our dog, possesses not an ounce of cruelty, and submits to my every wish, and still I am utterly captivated by her.”
Dierk could easily relate to his brother in that regard. “I feel the same way.”
“When a man loves a woman so thoroughly, he cannot live another moment not knowing she is his, she will always be his.”
“Yes. The thought of losing Wynne makes me sick.”
His brother leaned forward and rested a hand on Dierk’s knee. “The law is clear. You can’t Join with her. I know you’re aware of that.”
“Yes.” Dierk felt all hope slipping away. “I know, but I was wondering…”
“What? That I would grant you permission to break the law?” He removed his hand. “You know what price I would pay if I did that. And our people, what price they would pay, too.”
“Of course.”
The king tipped his head. “Still, you asked?”
“I have no choice. I love her.”
His brother stood, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s wrong with just marrying her?”
As required, Dierk stood, despite the fact that his legs were so shaky he wondered if they would hold his weight. “Nothing.”
“Yet you ask for more. You ask for the impossible.”
“I’ve found the impossible. You know how that feels, how desperate this kind of all-consuming love makes a man. I can’t think of anything but Wynne. I’ve tried. I feel incomplete without her.”
“If you are married, you will be connected in all ways but one, as so many have done before you. It was enough for them. Why isn’t it good enough for you?”
“But you know how painful and frustrating it will be, for both me and Wynne. To deny what we need is cruel.”
“To allow you to Join with Wynne is to sign my own fate.” The king sighed. “The law was written to protect us all. It is the one law that even a king is charged to uphold, or face the punishment of death.”
Shaking his head, Dierk closed his eyes. “I made a mistake, coming to you. I should have gone through with it without asking your permission. At least then—”
“I would have been forced to live with the guilt of having to sign your order of execution.”
Dierk shrugged. “It seems you won’t be able to avoid it.”
“Then you’ll Join with her anyway, even if I deny your request?” His brother dropped his head, shoved his fingers through his hair. “At least give me some time to look into the options.”
“There is no time. Tomorrow is the full moon. I won’t wait. I can’t wait. Not even a month.”
His brother’s expression was grim. “Then I have no choice….”
Assuming the conversation was over, Dierk backed toward the exit. Knowing he would soon pay the price for following his heart, he had only one thought. He would spend every minute he had left with the woman he loved.
Not doubting for one moment what he was about to do, Dierk took Wynne’s hands in his the next night and said the words of the Joining in the Ancient Tongue.
They had spent the past twenty-four hours talking about this moment, what it meant for them and what would happen afterward. Because they were likely to lose their lives, Dierk kept his wishes to himself as they discussed the ritual. He wanted Wynne to make this decision freely, without feeling any pressure from him. Instead of telling her how badly he longed to Join with her, he tried to stick to the basic facts about the Joining—specifically, how it would bind them spiritually. If one died, the other died. Their energies would blend. And during the most intimate moments, they would sense what the other did: hear what they heard, feel what they felt, taste what they tasted.
Wynne stood before him motionless now, the light of the full moon reflecting off her hair and making her look like an angel. The scent of jasmine was heavy in the cool air, the white petals overhead gleaming silver.
This was the perfect place. The perfect time. The perfect woman.
He accepted the choker from his brother Rolf and lifted it to Wynne’s neck.
It was almost done. She would soon be his forever, her soul a part of him, filling the cold, empty hollow inside. He secured the clasp at her nape and brushed his knuckles along her cheekbone. His forever.
His gaze locked to hers, he mentally reached for her. She might not hear his voice clearly yet, but she would feel his presence. He sent her loving thoughts.
You are mine and I am yours. Forever.
“Almost done,” Dierk said aloud. “I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world, for the rest of your life.” The need to complete the Joining was an excruciating ache now. Trembling, he spoke the rest of the words of the ritual, but the overwhelming urge to complete the final steps grew more intense with each sentence he uttered. By the time he had completed the Promise, he was so weak, he could barely stand, his limbs heavy, his heart hard and cold.
Almost done.
He tipped his head, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Ask me to kiss you.”
“Kiss me, please!” Wynne threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. An electrical charge jumped between their joined mouths. She parted her lips and he slipped his tongue inside. The energy zapped along his tongue, then charged through his body, blazing down his nerves. Heat gathered deep inside his chest, scorching, and yet not painful. The ice that had encased his frozen heart melted away and joy swelled inside until tears gathered in his eyes.
The Joining was almost finished. He was nearly whole.
He couldn’t wait. The final step was next: a bite, like so many he had enjoyed before and yet different. This one was a promise. A claiming. And a surrender. More than a kiss sealing marriage vows, this bite would bond them forever. He needed to complete the Joining before the magnificent fullness left him and he was empty again. He couldn’t bear to think of existing another minute without Wynne’s glorious soul filling him.
His fangs extended. He dragged his tongue down her throat. Her skin was sweet, salty, delicious.