Raven Walks

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Raven Walks Page 16

by Ginger Voight


  “Thank you,” she said, a blush creeping up her neck. He turned away then, and she felt like an awkward teenager. She turned away but he touched her arm, and she felt every nerve ending come alive at his fingertips.

  “May I buy you a drink?” he asked with a warm smile.

  She mumbled something that passed for an acceptance and then followed him along the cool sand toward an outdoor cafe. The maitre d had an instant smile for the unusual man and seated them immediately ahead of the line formed at the bar.

  She sat across from him at the candlelit table and he gave her a big smile. “Thank you for joining me. I always hate to drink alone.” He snapped his finger and a waiter immediately brought him a bottle of red wine.

  “Thank you,” she offered shyly, still feeling completely out of his league. This was a man with worldly sophistication and of obvious wealth. What on earth did he want with her?

  “My name is Stephen,” he offered.

  “Gina,” she supplied and he had to chuckle.

  “Surprised it’s not Ginger,” he remarked as he motioned to her head. “Like your hair.” Back then it was the same copper as her sister’s, the same look that made them both look like twins.

  Gina just nodded, blushed and looked away. What was this power his eyes had over her? She felt naked before him, and it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, though it should have been.

  “America,” he deduced. “The south, specifically.”

  “You’re good,” she told him.

  “I spent some time in the States. I always had a weakness for the Southern accent. Even one as subtle as yours.”

  She took a sip of the blood-red wine, suddenly needing the liquid courage.

  He took charge of the conversation, and they talked until the restaurant closed. Reluctant to leave each other’s company, they walked the length of the beach and back. He spoke about his mother, and how she inspired his love of music before her untimely death. And she found herself admitting to him what had happened with Hunter and Abi.

  They sat next to each other in the sand, and he took her hand in his. “He’s a fool,” he told her softly.

  A lone tear raced down her cheek as her sad eyes met his. “I’m the fool.”

  He brushed her hair from her face, and the loving gesture was all it took to burst through the dam she’d built to keep all those emotions in check. She openly sobbed and he rocked her as she wept, his lips against her hair, murmuring soothing words and stroking her back.

  When she glanced up, she lost herself in those bright green eyes that didn’t judge her, that looked at her like she was the only person on Earth. Her chin tipped up and he responded by leaning the rest of the way for her kiss. His full, soft lips opened over hers, and her hand slipped up into the silky length of his hair. He groaned against her mouth which prompted her to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue blended with hers as she pulled him down with her into the sand.

  She needed to feel loved, to feel chosen, and this enigmatic man was fulfilling both of those things. His fingers traced her face as he alternated between soft sweet kisses and deep, passionate ones. His hair spilled over his shoulder and tickled her cheek and neck, and her hands explored the muscles of his back while they simply savored each other’s kisses. He never tried to take advantage of her emotional state, even though she could feel his desire as he pressed against her body. When he pulled away, she almost whimpered in disappointment.

  “I must go,” he whispered. “The sun will be up soon.”

  “I could go with you,” she offered bravely, but he shook his head.

  “Not tonight,” he said and the look on his face left no room for argument. He stood up, before offering her a hand to pull her to her feet.

  He spied her slight pout and gave her a brilliant smile. “Don’t be sad, little one,” he whispered with one last, brief but sweet, kiss on her mouth. “Meet me tomorrow. As soon as the sun sets.”

  And so they met like that every night. They talked about everything and nothing, and ended every night wrapped in each other’s arms on that sandy beach. They kissed, they talked, and sometimes they just held each other and said nothing at all. In his arms she felt needed and valued – and it was exactly what she needed.

  Finally, six weeks into their love affair, she told him she wanted to be with him in every way. A tear hovered in his eye when told her simply, “No”, and left her way before the sun was due to rise.

  For at least two weeks she waited for him each and every night, and each and every night he didn’t show up. She walked the beach until she’d collapse on the sand in complete exhaustion. Finally, two weeks and two days from the moment he had rejected her, he appeared on the beach like a mirage. She wanted to run to him but stopped herself. She couldn’t stand the humiliation if he were to reject her again.

  Lightning lit up the sky from an approaching storm, but nothing matched the storm inside when she looked into those eyes once more. He said nothing as he turned and walked away, and despite her initial reluctance she decided to follow him anyway.

  She followed him all the way up the hill to an old villa overlooking the ocean, turbulent now from the incoming storm. She shut the door behind her and entered the dimly lit room, stopping only when she saw his darkened silhouette facing the big window that faced the sea.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he told her quietly without turning around.

  “Then why did you bring me?” she challenged.

  “There’s a storm,” he said in a flat tone. “And I knew you would not leave that beach until morning.”

  She came up behind him and realized that the window overlooked the very beach where she had fallen in love with this strange, unavailable man. “You’ve been watching me?”

  “How could I not?” he answered, emotion choked in his voice.

  She touched his arm and he turned to face her, his eyes bright with tears.

  It was all she needed to pull him into her arms for a sweet, overdue kiss. Gone were the tentative, exploratory kisses. Both of them were driven by a need so primal that their hands and lips and tongues were savage in their possession. Without breaking their embrace he led her over to the sofa, where they sunk together. His hands tore away her shirt while her hands slid up his bare back under his clothes.

  Thunder underscored their hearts beating hard against their chests, and lightning lit up the darkened room to illuminate their flesh as eager hands tore away restrictive clothing. His mouth planted hot, open-mouthed kisses across her chest until he could push away her bra and capture her hard nipple into his mouth.

  She gasped out loud and grasped his hair in her hand while she wrapped one leg around his waist. “Stephen,” she murmured as she ground against him, blinded with her need to be possessed by him. “Love me,” she begged.

  He reached up to kiss her. “I do,” he said against her lips.

  That was all she needed. She tore open his shirt and fumbled with his pants. Impatient, he helped her unfasten the button and push the fabric down over his hips. She gasped when she saw his erect member for the first time. She needed him more than she had ever needed anyone, so she pulled him back on top of her.

  The rain pounded against the window as thunder rattled the walls, but all that mattered was that he was naked in her arms, about to make love to her the way she had hoped he would for weeks. She kicked her own pants free and shrugged from her shirt until she was naked under him.

  He positioned himself between her legs and she felt the head of his cock enter her slowly. Her legs scissored behind him to press him in, but he savored every inch. His eyes locked her in his gaze as he opened her up to him, so slowly and so tantalizingly. Her eyes widened as he reached deep inside of her, almost where no one had been before.

  His mouth clamped down on her breast again as he began to stroke inside of her, slowly at first, taking his time, driving her crazy. She ground against him, her fingers tangled in his hair. He put a hand under each of her knees an
d pressed her further into the sofa with each deliberate thrust. He knew just where to touch her, just where to kiss, just how to position himself so that he hit that magical spot inside of her more and more until she was screaming under him.

  Once her massive orgasm had passed, she glanced up at him. His long, dark hair spilled over his shoulders and down his chest. His eyes were luminous, almost as though they glowed. But it was the look on his face that made her heart skip a beat. It was one of raw hunger, as though he could have consumed her on the spot.

  His motions sped up, and his need was driving her back over the edge. “Stephen,” she murmured again. “Tell me.”

  She wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear when she asked, but when he leaned down and told her, “I want to taste you,” she knew that was exactly the answer she needed to hear.

  It was only when he lifted up and lightning glinted off of his protruding fangs that she understood what he meant. She gasped, this time in fear, and attempted to scoot out from under him. “What the hell?”

  He shuddered as he was pulled from her body, right on the edge of everything he desired. But he let her move away, let her scramble to the other end of the sofa where she curled up into a ball and stared at him in wide eyed terror.

  “Now you know why I had to leave you,” he said, his fangs still as prominent as his erection.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said sadly.

  She embraced herself by pulling herself into a tighter ball. Her body still trembled from the force of her first orgasm, and her entire body felt branded by his touch... a touch she had wanted. “What do you want from me?” she asked, fear laced in her tone.

  A tear trailed down his face. “Your love,” he answered simply.

  And as he said that, she didn’t see his fangs. All she saw were his eyes, those luminous, bright green eyes that embraced her soul. Slowly she reached out and captured the tear from his cheek, and it was his turn to sob.

  She pulled him into her arms and rocked him as he wept, her lips against his hair and her hand rubbed his back. No words were spoken, they just held each other as the storm raged outside. Nothing matched the storm in her heart, as she wrestled with the idea this man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with wasn’t a man at all – but a monster who wanted to kill her.

  Yet there was no malice in the hands that touched her body, or the mouth that had kissed her so lovingly from the first night they met. He had loved her enough to leave her, rather than possess her when she had originally asked.

  She was so confused.

  Then he looked into her eyes. There was nothing there but love, a love so big it chased away all of her fear. And this time when she bent to kiss him she knew exactly what it meant to incite his passion. But she wasn’t afraid.

  She was in love.

  And she wanted to give herself to him without reservation... whatever that meant.

  So she pressed him back on the sofa, straddling his lap and cradling his face in both of her hands. She kissed him softly and thoroughly as she gyrated slowly against his limp penis. It, along with his ardor, began to rise as she pressed her breasts against his chest and trailed her mouth along the line of his neck.

  He grabbed her hips with his hands and guided her against his growing erection until he was hard enough to slip back inside of her. His head tipped back against the sofa as he thrust himself against her, rubbing against her swollen clit and driving her crazy with his teasing.

  When her teeth nipped at his neck, it was more than he could stand. He drove himself up inside of her, making her cry out with how deep and how hard he was. She rocked against him, reveling in the power of controlling the tempo of their erotic dance. His fingertips bit into the soft skin of her ass as he thrust up inside of her.

  Her eyes locked into his. “I love you,” she whispered, fucking him harder as she watched his fangs grow. “All of you,” she naively promised.

  He groaned as he reached up to her neck, and she felt the sharp tips of his fangs scrape gently against her skin. She stiffened as she braced herself, and just as he opened his mouth to bite her he pulled away.

  Though his fangs grew and his eyes glowed, he did not indulge his desire for her blood as he fucked her. She rode him harder, wanting to feel him fill her, needing something she couldn’t even articulate, and when he shoved himself up inside her that final time to spend his load inside of her, as nice as it felt it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she truly wanted, even though she didn’t know that yet.

  All these years later as she lay in Raven’s guest bedroom, her hand touched her clean neck and she knew exactly what she had wanted...

  And, God help her, she still did.

  Four rooms down, Raven lay breathless on his own bed, having just relived a memory Gina she never even knew he invaded. His heart thundered as he realized that Abi wasn’t the only one who wanted to walk where he walked... and somehow in his fantasy they were now molded into the same dream lover.

  Suddenly Raven didn’t know which sister he wanted more.

  Chapter Eighteen: Hunter

  When Abi awoke the next morning, she found herself lying next to a very still Constantine, who was still naked but sleeping as though dead.

  Although, she supposed with a shudder, he really was.

  His eyes sunk into his face and no pulse beat at his neck. Thanks to the blackout curtains keeping all sunlight from the room, shadows shrouded him and kept him safe until the moon would rise again and night would find him reborn.

  Slowly she reached out a hand and touched his arm, the muscles stiff with death. He was cold and tinged blue, and did not stir from the touch of her warm hand against his skin. Wherever he was, he wasn’t earthbound. She was touching a corpse.

  A corpse she hadn’t minded fucking just the night before.

  With a gasp she yanked her hand back and scooted off of the bed. The sides of her neck throbbed, raw with the wounds she had begged for during a night of unchecked salaciousness. She slipped into a silk robe hanging on the back of a chair and then crept out of the room.

  Bella was large and sprawling, and it took several detours for Abi to finally find a bathroom. Unlike the rest of the house it was bright with sunlight, and when she faced herself in the mirror she immediately felt sick with remorse. She thought a taste of immortality would fix whatever it was that was broken, instead it just made her feel that much worse.

  Her makeup was smeared, her hair mussed, and blood dried on her neck. She fought back the tears as she squared her shoulders, slipped the robe to the ground and headed toward the tub that sat atop claw feet. Steam rose from the hot water as it filled the tub, and she immersed herself fully into the near scalding water to baptize her sinful desires away.

  It was sheer luck that she was alive this morning instead of lying dead beside Constantine. Luck, and their inexplicable display of self-control. She had felt herself spiral down into unconsciousness under their mouths and their fangs, sinking into a cloud to be carried away wherever sinful souls fled. It was like slipping underwater, and instead of fighting to survive she was surrendering willingly to death.

  It was insanity.

  She thought of Raven and those dark, bottomless eyes that seemed to consume her. Whenever he touched her, whenever he held her, she just wanted it to go on forever. And, in a strange way, she felt the same for Constantine. They were two but one, and she found herself lost to both.

  She closed her eyes to squeeze away any tears. She wasn’t going to cry for another man – vampire or not. She had made that mistake once before and was determined not to go there again. Once a heart was broken, it never truly healed.

  She knew that more than anyone.

  She submerged herself under the water to drown away the memories. And just like the night before she felt herself slowly slip away, floating away on a cloud of apathy.

  When she thought she heard a male’s voice she sprung back up again, certain to see Raven or Constantin
e risking themselves in the sun to save her.

  Only it was Hunter’s face she saw, hardened with an unreadable expression, seemingly angry or disappointed, or both. She covered herself promptly, which made him snicker.

  “What’s the matter, Red? You forget you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

  “What are you doing in here? Where’s Gina?”

  “Asleep,” was his curt reply. “Where’s your lover boy?” he asked and then with a sneer, “his coffin?”

  She jumped up out of the water and grabbed a towel, hastily wrapping it around her naked body while he, much to her embarrassment, looked on. It was as though he could see the brands her vampire lovers had left on her body. Immediately she felt ashamed.

  “What does it matter to you?” she bit out, unable to look him in the face.

  The next thing she knew his hands were on her shoulders. He spun her around to face him. “Why doesn’t it matter to you?” he demanded softly.

  She stared into those cold, steel-blue eyes. She felt the years between them melt away – and remembered the very last time she was naked in his arms and lost in those eyes. It surprised her how a love long-buried could spring up with just the hint of a memory.

  She wrenched away from him and in doing so the towel unwound around her and slid to the floor. She fought the impulse to scramble down to fetch it, and instead tipped her chin in defiance as she stared at him – tears just behind eyes that wouldn’t let them fall.

  His jaw clenched as he stared back at her, trying his best not to let his eyes travel downward to her ample breasts, the swell of her stomach, those hips that begged to be touched. She had long been his kryptonite, and he was severely disappointed in himself to find her seductive power over him had not changed.

  From the moment he had first given in to her first, tentative kiss she had been like a drug to him. He couldn’t get enough. He tried to fool himself into thinking it was because she was a replacement for what he felt for Gina, but the truth was the scent of her in his nostrils brought out something very primal in him. And now, as she stood in front of him, glistening wet and naked, he clinched every muscle to force himself not to touch her.

 

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