by Maya DeLeina
Anya’s muscles weakened with his words and started to quiver. Her fingers, toes, nose, and ears all tingled. Steffan released his embrace and let his gaze lay on the woman who was about to become his mate. Her eyes were glassy, and her bottom lip trembled in his evaluating stare.
“I’m not changing my mind, Steffan. I have no doubts,” Anya assured him. “This is what I want. This life with you is all I want.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m just scared. I’m so very scared.”
Steffan moved in closer to Anya and gently cupped her face in his hands. “Of course. You are about to confront death. Fear is natural. For most of our kind, we never had time for this type of reflection…we never knew what was about to happen to us. For you, it’s different. You’ve had time to contemplate and face the choice of mortality in exchange for immortality.” Steffan kissed her on the forehead, holding her close. “I can only imagine the fear you have in you now, but I’m here to see you through this. I will not let you go. You will die, but I will ensure that my blood will have you born again.”
“I guess I keep thinking I have only this one life, one body, one voice, one heart. I am afraid of losing the unseen part of my living being. I’m afraid of losing my soul.”
“That is what you think, Anya? That you lose your soul? The soul is eternal. It’s the embodiment of you and only you. It’s undying. You don’t lose you. You still exist. It is our two souls that fated us as mates.”
Anya lifted to her tiptoes and kissed Steffan deeply. They explored each other’s depths with a powerful mix of emotions. Steffan laced his fingers with Anya’s as they separated from their passionate exchange.
“We’ll take it slow. We will only have one night quite like this, and I want to savor everything human about you for one last time.”
They made their way to the opposite end of the catwalk.
Beyond the double doors at the end of the hallway was the room in which Anya would face her death and birth. Her eyes filled with tears of excitement, love, and anxiety.
Steffan paused and turned around to face the catwalk. He closed his eyes for a moment in deep concentration.
Anya watched as the air in front of him vibrated and morphed in the stillness of the evening, a clear bending and weaving in the unseen space.
“Was that boundary?” she asked.
Steffan nodded in response and turned back around to the entrance of their master bedroom. “Go ahead, my love, open the doors.”
Anya pressed both hands against the doors and pushed her way through to the room. Red rose petals lay across the wooden floors, creating a meandering path in two directions—one to the bed, dressed in black, silk sheets. Red rose petals pooled in the middle of the bed as sheer, black fabric cascaded down from the canopy above. The other path wound around the corner to the master bath. Anya followed the petal path with Steffan at her heels.
“Steffan!” Anya exclaimed as she rounded the corner and let her eyes rest on the rose petals that floated in the bathtub. Anya walked to the elevated platform that sat centered in front of the expansive window and made her way up the stairs. The exotic wood floors at the top of the platform transitioned into black slate tile. Anya looked down at the large oval infinity-edge bathtub that sunk into the ground. Diffused light glowed in the water resembling a miniature swimming pool. Steffan’s private reserve wine and two glasses sat at the edge of the tub.
“Do you like your present?”
“So beautiful! When? How?” Anya said in utter shock, not forming complete thoughts or phrases as she walked back down the platform and settled next to Steffan.
“While you were recovering. Eilian and I just finished up the last of the details while you were with Michelle. Did you notice that somehow, you were drawn to the bath down the hall instead of our master?”
“Now that you mention it, yes!”
“Forgive me, but I placed a boundary around this area to keep it a secret.” Steffan reached for the hem of his black T-shirt and lifted it over his head. The sight of his bare chest, back, and arms flooded Anya with desire.
Steffan reached for the loops that hooked around Anya’s middle finger and undid each side. He slid her delicate shrug from her shoulders and let it drop carelessly to the floor.
His eyes were fixated on Anya’s, undeniable and powerful.
Steffan’s hands landed on each side of her hips, moving to the hem of her white tank top and lifting it up from her body as she raised her hands in the air. He tucked his fingers under her belt and into the waistband of her long skirt and slowly inched it down past her hips and to the floor.
Steffan stood back, removing his jeans, his gaze remaining fixated on Anya. She removed her bra and thong. She started to reach behind, planning to unhook her coin belt when Steffan stopped her in her tracks.
“No. Keep that on for a minute.”
Steffan slid his black briefs down his legs then leaned against the wall. He was rock hard. His hands engulfed his magnificent length and width, stroking up and down, rounding the tip at times. “Shake your hips for me.”
“I can’t dance, Steffan. It’s not good.”
“Anya, close your eyes.”
Anya closed her eyes as instructed.
“The music, listen to it with your soul.”
Anya concentrated on the eclectic flavor of the music that piped into the room. She let herself go, not concentrating on each individual instruments, but hearing the rhythm the fusion created.
“Now, imagine me under you, Anya. Move your hips as you would on top of me.”
Anya pictured Steffan’s masculine body under her, and her body exploded in undulating movements. Slowly, she circled her hips, her movements small. She tilted her head back, her breasts on full display. She circled her hips with a deeper movement, the coins echoing her progression.
Even with her eyes closed, she knew Steffan was standing in front of her, eyes wild with desire.
Anya pitched one of her legs forward, pointing her toe to the ground. Her hips changed course, moving back and forth, her abdomen rolling with the movement.
Suddenly, Anya felt Steffan’s strong hands wrap around her hips.
Anya’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Steffan?”
“Yes?” Steffan whispered as he lifted her up, placing her feet back on the floor. Only this time, she was standing on the second step that led up to the tub.
“Hmm, are you compensating for height differential here?”
“Maybe.” Steffan stood tall, situated on the first step in front of Anya.
She gasped.
Steffan tucked his rock-hard length between her legs, sliding below her wetness.
“Oh my god!” Anya said breathlessly.
Steffan positioned Anya’s legs close together, squeezing him tighter between her thighs.
“Now, continue,” Steffan whispered softly.
Anya moved her hips back and forth as she held Steffan’s lustful gaze. She was dripping wet with desire. He was below her, sliding the length of his shaft just under her folds, teasing her with his veins and contours.
She begged for his entry.
“Not yet. Just concentrate on how my cock feels, delicately tracing your flesh,” he whispered.
Anya rested her forehead against Steffan.
She settled into her rhythmic hip movement, her thighs holding him securely in place. His hard and veiny cock rubbed against her pussy, soothing the naughty ache that throbbed insistently. Her pulse quickened and her breath grew deeper, faster, and hotter with each passing second. She was flowing like a river now, lacing him with her sweetness.
“Oh my god, Steffan!”
“That’s it, my love. Let yourself go.”
She could feel it. It was almost there. Her legs could barely keep her up. Her nipples were rock hard and sensitive. The friction grew to an all-out yearning, aching for a deep release. Her mound, swollen beyond compare, burned with desire. Before she knew it, it was here. “Steffan!”
Any
a’s orgasm was intense, drifting in waves, dialing up deep, uncontrolled spasms, each one more intense than the other. She quaked as she held him tightly between her thighs, the shimming sound of her coin belt echoing her vibration.
“Did that feel good, cariad?”
“Good? It was…magnificent!”
* * * *
They wasted no time submerging their bodies deep in the bathtub, Anya settling in place between Steffan’s legs.
He reached for the wine and poured two glasses.
“Here, my love, drink,” he said, handing a glass to Anya.
The smell of white tea and jasmine filled the air as Steffan lathered a bath sponge and slowly washed Anya’s back. She closed her eyes and savored the wine as it slipped past her lips.
“Steffan, you will tell me how to do it right?”
“Drink from me?”
“Yes.”
“When the time comes, I think you will find your instincts will take over.”
“If it’s your blood in this wine, will you taste just as good? I mean, there are dark chocolate undertones in this that I’ve never quite tasted before.”
“So chocolate is your catalyst. Love, I will taste much better. So much that you will be tempted to drink me dry. But I’ll trust in your ability to control yourself.”
“But you tasted like copper that night in the park, when you cut your finger. Why will it taste different now?”
“The wine has gone through an aging process that extracts the sweetness of my blood to fit the human palate. My blood, in the purest form right now, won’t have any flavor for you to pick up on. Tonight, we will be at the right time, when our blood has had time to mix from the rituals and has developed a unique taste palatable for just the two of us. I’m guessing that drinking directly from my veins will be like drinking from one of those chocolate fountains. ”
“Really?” Anya shook her head. “Steffan, if that is the case, help me if I can’t help myself so I don’t hurt you.”
“I’ll help you through every part of it.”
“So, I get the taste, but what it will feel like when I drink? Can you describe it?”
“I don’t know what to compare it to in a human form. I can’t recall anything quite like the sensation. But when Rhys turned Brynne, she mentioned that it felt like she had licked the ends of a battery, where the energy would pass right through her. It was like sending a tingling sensation and amplifying the taste of something you already have a strong appetite for all at once. Does that help?”
“Yeah. I get what she saying about the sensation with the battery. I’ve done that when I was younger,” Anya said as she chucked. “And the taste of me, what is it like for you?”
“Like dark chocolate laced with cinnamon. It seems as if we both have a strong affinity for chocolate.”
Steffan put down the sponge and began to massage Anya’s neck and shoulders. “Anya, I have one regret in claiming you as my mate.” Steffan paused as he drew closer to her ear. “Children.”
Anya nodded as she held her wine, letting the bottom of the glass balance on her knees that barely surfaced from the water. “Michelle and I talked about it, too. It’s like I told her, nothing has changed for me even as I face the finality of the issue. The clock never started ticking for me like other women. I don’t know why. I’ll admit, I held on to the possibility, thinking my cutoff point was forty. Even if I never intended to explore the option, it just always felt like something I had to hold on to, because I was a woman, because of society’s expectations. Instead of feeling like a plan that I was going to fulfill, with each passing year, it felt more like a looming deadline, a countdown to when I would have to face reality and admit it as a conscious choice rather than a vision that never came to fruition.”
“So, you will be able to accept that we will never have the ability to produce children? I look at you, and my thoughts drift, wondering what it would be like to watch your belly swell with my child growing inside. For me, it’s wishful thinking. But, I’ve had years to accept that I will never know what it is like to be a father and to have the love of a child. I just want to make sure this is something you’ve given some consideration to. ”
Anya put down her glass and turned around in the tub to face Steffan.
“You are the only man to have ever stirred a remote thought in that area for me. But it doesn’t mean I’m giving up anything just to be with you. It was something I already came to terms with as a conscious decision before you even came along. Besides, what kind of life would this be for a child? I couldn’t bear to watch my own child die of disease or old age, nor could I bear the thought of a turning and freezing their existence in an adolescent stage.”
“I see you’ve given this much thought.”
Anya nodded.
“I want you to know something. Eilian and I are exploring the possibilities of reproduction for our kind.”
“What? Impossible!”
“Once upon a time, a vampire could not walk in the sun or consume food. Now look at us. Nothing is ever impossible.” Steffan paused and shook his head. “But this project has hit so many roadblocks in just the ethics alone. We don’t want children to be children forever. We have to discover a way to manipulate any remaining human cells we retain after turning for growth. Then the questions come into play. What age do you stop the aging process? What is the perfect age to attain for immortality?”
“Good questions. I never thought about all of that. I’m just floored. I can’t believe you and Eilian are doing this.” Anya’s face lit up with excitement.
Steffan sighed. “Anya, we are so far from figuring any of this out. And as a vampire, when I say this will take a long time, I mean a long, long time. This I why I want to make sure you’ve thought long and hard about this before we do anything that can’t be reversed.”
Anya lifted her hand to gently brush Steffan’s face. “I am sure. I’ve come to terms with it and I have no doubts about my choice.”
Steffan reached for Anya and pulled her onto him, straddling his lap. “And this is your choice? I am the man you want to be with, irrevocably?”
“Oh god, yes!” Anya moved her hips slowly over Steffan’s swollen shaft under the water. “Help me remember once it’s complete. Promise me you won’t let me forget anything.”
“Your heart is pure, Anya, you’ll remember everything you cherished,” Steffan reassured her.
“Please. I’m scared of losing me. Promise me, don’t let me forget.”
Steffan fisted his hands in her wet hair and leaned her forehead against his. “I promise you, you will not forget. I will help you remember everything.”
Anya kissed Steffan, her tongue wild in taking his mouth. “I’m feeling uncontrollable, Steffan,” she whispered during her releases from his mouth. “My heart feels like it’s going to jump right from my chest.”
“Anya,” Steffan said, entranced with Anya’s kisses and focused on the movement of her hips, submerged in a rhythm that released a wild need to be loved.
“Yes?”
“Your body is telling you it’s time.” Steffan lifted her from the tub and set her feet on the black tile floor.
From the looks of the floor, she expected to be met with an immediate chill. But she stood there, wiggling her toes against the heated sensation below her feet. “Heated tiles. Nice”
Steffan smiled and stepped out of the tub. Water dripping from his chiseled muscles was a delicious sight. He reached for a towel, wrapping Anya in the thickness of the cotton, drying her naked body.
Anya reached for a towel and patted Steffan’s skin dry in response.
Steffan lifted Anya from the warmth of the tiles into the heat of his embrace. “Anya DeVera, can I claim you, make you mine? Make you Mrs. Anya Matthews?”
“Yes. Claim me!”
Steffan cradled Anya in his arms, his naked body maneuvering them to the bed. Their eyes remained transfixed on each other. He placed one knee on the bed and gently laid Anya�
�s body on the velvety rose petals. He opened her legs wide and situated himself at her glistening sweetness on display for him. Tucking a rose petal between his fingers, he traced every intimate line and shape with the velvety petal. Up and down, side to side he moved. He was imaginative and unpredictable—sometimes using just the edge of the petal to trace lightly on her skin, other times pressing the velvety petal firmly against her. He even captured the petal in his teeth, affording him an up close and personal view of her trembling body. The velvet sensation on her sensitive flesh shot a fiery craving throughout her body.
“Oh my god!” Anya’s airy whisper echoed in the room.
The petal fell back into place, diving back into the pool on the bed as his tongue eagerly took its place, tracing each curve and fold. His masculine hands splayed across her chest, massaging her luscious breasts in each hand. Anya whimpered below him, throwing her head back and creating a prominent arch with her body. Watching Anya’s body contort in the throes of passion sparked vigor in Steffan, and his tongue delved deeper inside her, taking in her essence.
* * * *
Steffan reached for another open bottle of wine that sat on the nightstand.
“Anya, drink. I want enough in you to ease any pain.”
Anya propped her body up on her elbows as Steffan kneeled between her legs. He held the bottle to her lips and tipped it upward, cradling the back of her head.
She drank, her black hair cascading down the length of her bare, sensual back. A stream of the dark-red wine escaped Anya’s lips, trickling down her chin and settling in between her breasts. She gasped as the wine flowed down to her neck and chest.
She looked up at Steffan.
A deep-seated craving burned in his eyes as he drenched her in his tantalizing elixir. He placed the bottle on the nightstand and dipped his head, lapping up the rivulets from her body. He pulled Anya up to a sitting position as his tongue made one last sweep over her clavicle.
“Drink more, my love.”
Steffan reached for the bottle and poured the wine down his body. His thumb methodically positioned over the opening of the bottle to direct the flow. The wine flowed down his shoulders, cascading off of the prominent curve of his chest, and pooled into Anya’s mouth below. Anya swallowed and then filled her mouth with his cock. Steffan held on to a piece of the canopy material with his free hand to steady himself, her sudden taking of his body was wild.