by Kallysten
Without a word, she ran a finger over the cut the Sire had inflicted on him earlier. Ian almost expected her to chide him on his carelessness, but all she did was lean down to trace the closed wound again, this time with her lips and tongue, cleaning the dried blood. The touch was sensual but too delicate when every inch of Ian's skin was crying out for more contact. Sliding his hands beneath her tunic, he caressed the smooth expanse of her back until she sat up again, robbing him of the feel of her. He protested with a wordless grumble that turned into a groan when, in the same movement, she pressed down again onto his confined cock and pulled the tunic over her head, exposing her chest to him.
"You're perfect,” he murmured, cupping a breast in each hand and rubbing his thumbs against the hardening nipples.
Her fingers tugging over the laces of his breeches, Eyrin let out a quiet, derisive snort.
"Perfect,” Ian repeated, as much conviction in his voice as he could manage, and caught her gaze.
She gave him an almost timid glance and smile, completely at odds with her utter confidence when she freed his dick to pump it a few times in her tight fist. The contrast was strange, but not unpleasant. Ian thought he could get used to it.
* * * *
He really means it.
The thought, full of awe and wonder, kept echoing through Eyrin's mind. She wasn't sure how it was even possible for him to ignore the scars that disgraced her body, but Ian meant his words when he called her beautiful or perfect, just as he had meant his assurances that he was at peace with his new life and didn't blame her for it.
Somehow, she hadn't really believed him until now, a small part of her clinging to the idea that he had just been trying to be nice to her. To realize that he meant it, all of it, only made her want him more. She herself hadn't told him a single word she hadn't meant, but even now the truths she had been half-concealing to herself tasted strange on her tongue, like a fruit she had expected would be bitter but had turned out sweeter than honey.
Suddenly, it became paramount to feel him against her, without the flimsy barriers of cloth that separated them. She slid off him to get rid of her boots and pants almost feverishly; Ian watched her for a second, his gaze clouded with lust, before joining in her efforts and divesting himself as well.
The first touch when Eyrin lay down over Ian again, skin to skin from chest to toe, caused both of them to quiver and to try to increase the contact. His hands seemed to be everywhere suddenly, stroking with a feather light touch along her spine before too briefly cupping her ass, one sliding back up to massage her breast while the other found its way to her slightly parted legs and the slick wetness there. Leaning as she was on her forearm, Eyrin only had one free hand to explore Ian's flesh but she made as good a use of it as she knew how, mirroring his touch even as she pressed down onto his cock, trapped between their bodies.
The contact still wasn't enough, though, and each additional touch only added to Eyrin's craving for more. Letting herself fall by Ian's side, she clutched at his shoulder so he would turn with her. There was no need to speak; as soon as she slid her leg over his own, opening herself to him, he clutched at her hip and surged forward, penetrating her in one fast, smooth glide.
Eyrin sighed in pleasure, barely louder than a breath, and accompanied Ian's slow movements with her own rocking in counterpoint to his. After weeks of celibacy, to feel his cock sliding progressively deeper in her until she didn't know anymore where her body stopped and where his started was bliss.
And still, incredibly, not enough.
They were sharing the most intimate act a man and woman could offer each other, but they were vampires, too. They could share more than sex. Ian had reminded her of it moments earlier with just a hint of his blood on his tongue.
With her arms tight around him, she pulled backwards until she was on her back, Ian resting between her legs. The position gave more leverage to his thrusting and he lost no time increasing his tempo, but it also offered his neck more fully to Eyrin, and hers to him.
She found the two puncture marks where she had bitten him easily enough. They were healed but slightly jagged beneath her tongue, a testimony to how she had forgotten everything, even herself, when she had last taken his blood.
"Do it,” Ian grunted, punctuating his words with his hardest thrust yet that sent a flash of heat through Eyrin.
"With you,” she replied breathlessly.
She tilted her head a little more, exposing the curve of her neck fully, and Ian's rhythm faltered for a second or two. She didn't need to encourage him, though. Before she could reiterate her words, his mouth was on her, blunt teeth biting painlessly as he waited for her. Her fangs pierced his skin an instant only before his sank into her but they started drinking together, slow, deep pulls on blood that, at that moment, didn't belong to either of them anymore, but rather was theirs.
Her orgasm took Eyrin by surprise, lost as she was in the taste and feel of her lover, in her and all around her. She wrenched her mouth from him to gasp, mindlessly arching her hips into him to try to prolong the sensations coursing through her body.
Her name on his lips when he came was the most exquisite thing she had ever heard.
Chapter Eight
"Good fight, Ian."
"Surprisingly good fight, even after what we heard about you."
Ian acknowledged the praises and prodding of his comrades in arms with a nod and a tight smile. Simon had asked more than once over the past three hunts about what had truly happened on the night that should have seen Ian's first battle. He had not been subtle about it, and had not appreciated Ian's refusal to answer his questions. Simon was a great fighter and Ian enjoyed hunting with him because it gave him the occasion to witness some excellent sword work and, hopefully, learn from it. However, his personality and his insistence to be told about what was none of his business almost made Ian wish that he hadn't requested to hunt apart from Eyrin.
Then again, all Ian needed was to see Eyrin in the distance, pacing in front of the lair and undoubtedly waiting for him as she had the past three nights, to remember why he was better off not having his lover near him in battle. He was incredibly grateful when his two companions refrained from commenting about her presence, but at the same time he had no doubt that they would tease him about it, once again, at the first occasion.
As soon as he reached the stable and dismounted, Eyrin was by his side, her frown severe as she sniffed.
"You smell of blood,” she noted darkly, her eye detailing him and looking for wounds. “Where did you get hurt?"
Simon and Jeb clapped him on the shoulder as they passed by him, and he could hear their stifled laughs as they walked away.
"I'm fine,” he assured her with a roll of his eyes. “And honestly, Eyrin, I like you much better in the role of lover than in that of minder."
Her eyebrow shot up at that and he could tell that she would protest until he was convinced of her good intentions, but she didn't have a chance to do it. Behind her, their Sire cleared his throat to get their attention.
"Eyrin? Walk with me, Childe."
The look she gave Ian spelled out very clearly that the discussion wasn't over, but the kiss she pressed to his lips before catching up with the Master said something entirely different. Ian snorted quietly as he watched them walk away side by side. He knew Eyrin still worried for him, and he suspected she always would. In truth, he didn't mind her protectiveness—at least not as long as she restricted herself to words rather than blows to the head—but he would have liked it better if she had kept her mothering for when they were alone.
He took care of his horse, quickly but thoroughly, before entering the lair and walking to the chambers he now shared with Eyrin. They hadn't really talked about it, she'd just moved her possessions into his bedroom and succinctly explained that she didn't like her own much anymore. Ian suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he had died there, but he didn't feel like he ought to ask.
As usu
al, the fire was roaring in the fireplace, and Eyrin had placed a large metal pot full of water to warm next to flames. Stripping off his cloak, tunic and boots, Ian picked up one of the washing cloths in the pot and used it to clean off the dust of the ride, as well as the blood from the small cut on the back of his hand. It was nothing, and it would probably be gone by morning, but he doubted that it would escape Eyrin's notice.
She would ask to know how it had happened, certainly, and would drill him into avoiding being hurt the same way again. He had come to realize that it wasn't guilt that pushed her to be as protective as she showed herself, but rather it was her way to show how much she cared about him; how much she loved him, even if she had never said the words. He doubted she would say it, or even could, but it didn't matter as much as he had thought it would. Words only went so far; actions could be more meaningful, sometimes. And sometimes, simple smiles or small touches were sufficient.
He had just finished drying off when the door opened and Eyrin entered. He turned to face her and lost his smile as she approached, looking extremely grim.
"What is it?” he asked at once, concerned. “What did he say?"
He noticed how her gaze fell onto the back of his hand and braced himself for the predictable argument, but her lips pinching tight were her only reaction.
"He said that I fuss too much about you,” she grimaced. “And that it's a bad habit to get into."
Trying very hard to contain his grin, Ian stepped closer to her and unhooked the fastening of her cloak. He caught it easily as it fell off her shoulders and threw it over the back of the chair with his own.
"I can't say I disagree with him,” he snickered as he led her backwards until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “You do realize I'm not a child, don't you?"
Kneeling at her feet, he undid the laces of her boots and pulled them and her stockings off. She brought her eyes back to her with a light touch to his cheek.
"You're not my Childe. That's what he said when he asked me to stop."
The words were quiet and emotionless; too much so. Eyrin was more affected by the pronouncement than she wanted Ian to know. He wasn't sure how to answer.
"And then,” she continued after taking a deep breath in, “he said he is putting me back at the head of a hunting group."
Ian had quickly learned how much of an honor it was to be chosen as one of the Master's lieutenants and he beamed at the good news.
"That's wonderful!” he exclaimed, and cupped the back of her neck to pull her lips down to his for a quick kiss. She replied to it with surprisingly little enthusiasm.
"I'm not sure I want to do it,” she admitted. “It's too soon and I'm not fighting as well as I—"
The kiss, this time, was Ian's way to shush her.
"You're ready. He wouldn't have given this back to you if he weren't sure you were. You'll do just fine."
He could tell that his words were comforting her, but she still pouted as he stood in front of her.
"You say that,” she protested teasingly, her voice muffled when he pulled her tunic over her head, “but you don't even want to fight by my side."
He gave her his most innocent smile. “Fine. I'll help you. If you don't want to lead that group, I'll knock you out before the battle."
She blinked twice, looking surprised, before laughing. Grabbing Ian's waist, she pulled him onto the bed, twisting their bodies so that she was lying on top of him.
"You are terrible!” she chuckled.
Ian would have pointed out that she had started it, but her lips and hands were suddenly everywhere on him, setting his skin ablaze, and words were far beyond his reach
* * * *
The muffled sounds of voices and clashing weapons coming from the rest of the lair were typical for a late afternoon but they failed to disturb the deep peace in the bedchambers. Eyrin let her mind wander as she absently stroked her thumb over Ian's chest. Their limbs were still entangled, as they had been when they had fallen asleep, and to be so close to him was soothing her mind.
She had never had a permanent companion in her bed, only ephemeral lovers, humans or vampires, whom she had taken in as the mood had struck. She was beginning to think that it would be very easy to get used to her new sleeping arrangements. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She wasn't sure how to feel about many things anymore, in fact. After a century and half of thinking she would never experience love, the feeling was strange, and a little frightening too because it changed everything she had ever taken for granted.
"You look far away.” Ian's whisper slid over the silence and its stillness without truly disturbing them. “Where did your thoughts take you?"
Eyrin blinked slowly before refocusing her gaze on him. For a moment, she could have fooled herself once again into believing he was still the young human she had made her lover. To that man, she would have smiled, and lied. To this one, she owed the truth. Not simply because she had caused him to be what he was today, but because he still saw the same Eyrin in her, when she herself continued to struggle with whom she was.
"I'll have to leave, some day,” she murmured. “I don't think it'll be soon, Leane is older than me and she'll probably be the next one, but some day. I think that's why our Sire put me at the head of that hunting group again, so I'd have more experience leading."
She had expected Ian to protest at the idea that she would leave the lair and him, but all he did was reach toward her face to brush a strand of hair off her forehead before running his knuckles softly down her right cheek.
"You always knew it'd happen. Why does it bother you so now?"
She stiffened in his arms. Couldn't he understand? Didn't he feel the same?
"I'll miss you,” she grumbled. “Even though it won't be reciprocal, it seems."
"You know I'll miss you too,” he said with a sad smile. “And if there was any way for me to come with you..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but something in his tone hinted that he might accompany her, going against all rules and traditions, if she only let him. Eyrin didn't have the smallest idea how to even respond to that. She didn't have to, though, because Ian spoke again, his words quiet but firm.
"But I don't think this is what's on your mind. I'm right here, right now, and you don't even know how long it will be before you have to go. So tell me what really bothers you."
She frowned, ready to deny his words had any truth to them, but stopped short when realizing he might not be completely wrong. When she failed to say anything, he held her tighter to him.
"Don't worry,” he said, his voice now a warm honeyed caress. “You'll make a wonderful Sire. I know you will. You were mine in all things except blood, and my only regret is that I can't call you Sire."
Once again, she couldn't find the words to answer, but when he kissed her she knew she didn't have to say anything.
The End
Other Books By Kallysten, available at
www.alinarpublishing.com
In This Life or The Next
When she reluctantly accompanies her husband Alex to an art show, Tania discovers new worlds through the paintings of Mark Wendell, worlds that she experiences as vividly as though she had lived in them. Visions, daydreams and dreams haunt her, showing her different women and the men they loved, all different but also, she soon discovers, all the same. Which will she choose ... the man she married in this life, or the one who was her lover across time?
Rating—Sultry
On the Edge
Brett Andrews thought he had it all. His new club, On The Edge, catering to vampires and humans, is a success, and the beautiful vampire Lisa is everything he could have dreamed of. When an old lover of hers, Leo, shows up at the club, Brett's immediate fear is that he will lose Lisa. But if he just stops thinking long enough to follow Lisa's lead, he might gain a lover instead of losing one.
Contact Kallysten at [email protected]
Kallysten's Website: original.kallysten.net
&n
bsp; An Alinar Publishing Publication:
www.alinarpublishing.com
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Visit www.alinarpublishing.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.