She released his hand and he thought that she might have changed her mind, until she shrugged off the simple tunic she wore, exposing the fine, straight line of her back. When she faced him, heat and desire raced through his body, making his erection nearly painful.
Stacia might be petite, but her body was all delicious womanly curves. Her full breasts tilted upward, dark caramel nipples large and beginning to tighten as his gaze settled on them.
Hadrian shot an uneasy look toward Maximillian and Gaius, but they were eagerly moving to a pool at a far corner of the baths, basically leaving him alone with Stacia.
Relief washed over him. Unlike Maximillian, Hadrian wasn’t inclined to sexual acts in public. The two men were far enough away, however, for him to enjoy himself with the obviously uninhibited Stacia, who was trailing a toe through the water in the nearest pool. As she realized she had his attention, she smiled and moved one hand lazily up her body until she cupped her own breast.
Between his legs his erection jerked and swelled.
When she touched her beaded nipple, she asked, “Do you want to touch?”
From behind him came a series of soft footfalls, alerting him to the arrival of Stacia’s servant. The young woman scurried to the side of the bath, where she placed a platter with dishes piled with fresh fruits, cheese and gold-gilded pastries drenched with honey. Just as quickly, she rushed out. As she did so, Stacia seized on the opportunity to approach him, her hips swaying enticingly.
She stopped barely inches away, one hand still working her breast. She slipped her other hand beneath the folds of his toga and unerringly found him. With a practiced touch, she caressed the tip of him and then slipped her hand over his foreskin.
He stood there, hands controlling the urge to reach for her as—with sure strokes—she sent desire rocketing through his body.
Connie let out a rough laugh, still battling the unusual need he had awakened in her body. “So you expect me to believe you just stood there while she—”
“I’m a man. I didn’t just stand there, but I felt…a strange sensation moving over me. Rousing need so strong—”
“Like what you did to me,” she said and finally glanced down at her body and the evidence of her own arousal. Beneath the slick black fabric, her nipples were still beaded into tight points and she was so wet between her legs, she wondered if he could smell her arousal.
“I can,” he said. He laid a hand on her thigh, slowly traced it up to the rounded curve of her hip, where he encircled her waist and shifted closer on the bed. “I can smell the musk of you. It’s enticing.”
“It’s not real,” she mocked. “It’s just a product of whatever you did to me.”
“And you think that’s not real?”
She sensed a challenge in his words. She tried to deflect it, fearful of how he intended to prove her wrong.
“Was what she did to you real? Did it please you?”
He moved the hand at her waist to just below her breast and her heart skipped a beat. She knew he heard it, sensed the way her body jumped in anticipation, the vampire thrall controlling her desire. Wanting fulfillment against her will.
With a harsh smile, he met her gaze and asked, “Do you think it pleased me?”
Chapter 6
Rome
307 A.D.
D emand raced along his nerve endings, so strong it weakened his knees as Stacia continued to pleasure him with her hand.
“What is this?” he asked, nearly light-headed from the sensations buffeting his body.
“Come, my love. Have some nourishment. You will need it before the night is through,” Stacia said. With a final caress of his arousal, she turned and walked to the steps of the bath, where she waited for him.
Hadrian followed despite his better judgment, which was telling him all was not right. He had no will left to fight that sound advice. His mind was overwhelmed with the need to bury himself between Stacia’s plush thighs. To feel the lush curves of her accepting his body, and taste the sweet caramel tips of her breasts.
He groaned and grabbed himself, trying to tame the heat of his cock with a few slow strokes as he walked toward her.
She smiled as she watched him caress himself. Her smile broadened as he shrugged off his toga and stood before her, all hard and eager male. She finally stopped playing with her breast and laid both her hands on his chest, stroking the muscles there. Her hands slightly chilled as she trailed them down his body, across the ridged planes of his abdomen and to the thick muscles of his thighs, avoiding the one place where he wanted her hands the most.
Urging him closer, the hard tips of her breasts brushed his chest and he moaned, wanting the taste he had imagined earlier.
“I want a taste, too.” She leaned forward and placed her lips on his nipple. Sucked at it before pulling on it with her teeth.
He gasped and grabbed hold of her waist with one hand, while in his other, he tightened his hold on his erection, fighting off his release.
She laid her hand over his and, feeling the first hint of his climax, she smiled and said, “I want a taste of that as well.”
Before he could stop her, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth, sucking and pulling at him. Unmanning him as she cupped him and squeezed gently. His release came and immediately after arousal rose up faster and harder than before. His heart slammed against the walls of his chest. He swayed on his feet until she rose up against him, her body sinuous and supportive at the same time.
“What is this?” Hadrian asked, his mind whirling from the nonstop attack on his senses. It seemed to him that he could feel every inch of her skin. The ripple of muscle beneath all that pale alabaster perfection. The intense warmth of the water as she guided him down the steps and into the heat of the baths.
A moment later he was sitting on a small ledge beneath the water and Stacia was straddling him, her thighs encircling his waist. Her breasts brushing his chest as she reached past him to the plate of food the servant had brought earlier.
She picked up one of the gilded sweets and brought it to his mouth, offering up the honey-laden treat.
When he bit down, the sweetness of the dessert filled his mouth, but then his gaze drifted downward to her breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of them, and with a laugh, Stacia rose up and offered herself to him.
“Have a taste, love. Tell me if I am as sweet.”
A rush of heat swept over her body as Hadrian’s gaze focused on her breasts. Connie hadn’t thought it possible, but her nipples tightened into even harder nubs and throbbed with need. Between her legs a heavy pulse beat. As she pulled at the ties binding her to the posts, he said, “Do not struggle so.”
The rumble in his voice dragged her gaze back to his face. His recounting of the meeting with the vampire had aroused him as well. His eyes had begun to bleed out to the penetrating neon color and a small hint of fang protruded from beyond his top lip. As she glanced downward, the fabric of his expensive slacks tented over a rather exceptional erection.
He took a shaky breath, clearly battling his own arousal. She challenged him. “Did you struggle, too, Hadrian, or did you embrace her darkness?”
A harshly uttered word—some kind of expletive, she guessed—escaped from his lips before he drove back the vampire and his human form was in control.
“When I saw her true face, I fought her, much as I expect you will fight me.”
“Damn right,” she said with an emphatic nod.
“But she turned me, much as I will turn you when the moment is right.”
Fear replaced desire, the chill of it driving away the earlier heat of her thrall-induced arousal.
“I won’t go so easily,” she warned and was surprised to see a pleased smile erupt across his features. The kind of smile she hadn’t expected to see in response to her challenge.
He must have sensed that she was attracted despite herself. “You are bold, aren’t you?”
She was spared answering when a knock ca
me at the door.
“Come in, George,” he called out and the man from before hurried in, bringing with him a small serving cart. On the cart were two golden goblets, an open bottle of wine, some slices of bread and a dish filled with an assortment of cheeses and cold meats.
“I took the liberty earlier of assuming you might get hungry.”
Connie assumed that she was like the proverbial Thanksgiving turkey and Hadrian’s concern was more for keeping her nice and plump than for her comfort.
“What if I don’t want to eat?”
She hated that she sounded childish to her own ears and that her response dragged another amused smile to his lips.
“Whatever. You may go, George. Have a nice night.”
George, who looked to be a man not past his fifties and in relatively fine shape, glanced from her to his master and to the plate of food. Wringing his hands, he said, “You might rest easier with a little something in your belly, miss.”
George had an accent, she surmised. Not quite British, but not American, either. With a shake of her head, she replied, “I won’t make it easier for him, George.”
“You’d be wise to make it easier on yourself,” Hadrian said. With a sharp slash of his hand, he sent his servant away.
“And why is that?”
“You want to be strong enough to fight me, don’t you?”
She recognized that he was playing her, but she also was smart enough to realize that she wasn’t at full strength, either. Besides the arousal draining her body, he had fed from her earlier, weakening her system. She would have to feed to sustain herself until…
“You fed from me before, but I’m not a vampire.”
“There are many kinds of kisses I can bestow.” As he spoke, he reached for a bit of bread, dipped it into a small bowl and offered it up to her.
The rich aromas of the yeasty bread and olive oil assailed her senses and her stomach growled in reaction.
“Mangia,” he said.
“It would be easier if you released me.” She ate the bread from his hand, however, savoring the rich flavors that exploded in her mouth from the morsel.
“But it’s been too long a time since I indulged in such luxuries.” He picked up a piece of cheese and popped it into his own mouth before snaring a small chunk for her and bringing it to her lips.
“Since your tryst with the vampire?” she asked before accepting his offering.
His hand wavered above a piece of prosciutto he had been forking onto a slice of bread. As he met her gaze, there was a wealth of sadness in his. His words when they came were unexpected and heavy with sorrow.
“Not since the day my wife and son were murdered.”
Chapter 7
A ripple of shock tore across her body. “Murdered?”
Hadrian nodded and prepared her yet another bite, but when he tried to feed it to her, she clamped her lips shut and moved her head away. Her gaze was hard with judgment.
How many times had he looked in a mirror and imagined he saw the same telling stare on his own face?
Ignoring her, he poured some wine and took a sip. He offered her some as well before he popped another piece of bread and cheese into his mouth and chewed slowly, considering how to begin. How to explain how he had lost all that was ever valuable to him and why it was that he detested the humans around him.
Instead, he said, “It is too late to tell that tale. Dawn will be here in just another hour or so.”
She looked in the direction of the windows, where it was still black as night outside, and when she turned a questioning glance his way, he said, “I can feel it coming, much as I can sense the approach of night.”
“Is that all you can feel, Hadrian? Don’t you care about your murdered family?”
“Enough.” He knew her challenge was an attempt to alter the dynamic of their situation. She still hoped he might change his mind about turning her. He refused to let her get the upper hand. Rising, he paced before the bed for a moment before he asked, “And what of you, Connie? Will your family lament your passing?”
“Of course.” She yanked on the ties holding her to the bed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” He stalked back to the bed, grabbed hold of her chin and forced her face upward. Bending until he was nearly nose-to-nose with her, he transformed once again. Beneath his hand, her body trembled, but her gaze remained firmly on his face and gave away not a hint of her fear.
“A vampire changed my life, but it was the humans who stole all that mattered to me.”
“So this is payback for something I had nothing to do with? For something I couldn’t control?”
A strangled laugh escaped him. He trailed the edges of his fangs along the fine line of her jaw and the trembling of her body increased beneath his hand. When he reached the shell of her ear, he said, “Would you not kill me if you had the chance?”
Her failure to answer spoke volumes. She would kill him just for being a vampire. Just for being different. She was no different from the humans who had murdered his family and thousands of other vampires so many centuries earlier.
Thrusting her away, he rose again and said, “We will soon lie down to rest through the day. It is time to prepare for that.”
Connie hadn’t known what Hadrian intended to do to ready for his daytime slumber. It had turned out to be far less onerous than she had imagined.
He had let her eat and drink some more and then had untied her from the bedposts, using his vampire powers to control her while giving her the freedom to perform some nighttime ablutions in the bathroom. He had also provided her a soft silk tunic to replace the thermal undergarments she had been wearing.
The caress of the silk against her skin was almost painful to parts still in overdrive from the arousal Hadrian had awakened in her earlier. As the smooth silk slipped over her body, it had been like a lover’s caress and brought fresh need.
When she had stepped out of the bathroom, Hadrian had clearly sensed her arousal. He, too, had changed into a similar garment, and as he examined her, the push of his erection against the light fabric had been obvious.
He had done nothing about it, much to her confusion.
Instead, he had bound her to the bed once again in a way that allowed her some comfort, but not the ability to untie herself. She had been hoping to attempt an escape while he slept, but sensed that even if she had done so, it would have been wasted effort.
So she lay down next to him, her body thrumming with unfulfilled need, as his was. Stiff and unyielding, much as he was. Beneath the softly decadent sheets and the silken covers, she grew warm. Beside her, Hadrian was warm as well, but as the sun rose, spilling soft rays of light into the farthest portion of the room, all warmth fled his body.
With the barest touch of light filtering through the windows, she took the time to examine the room.
Definitely masculine, she thought, glancing around at the various pieces of furniture. Large, dark and made of rich mahogany. Old World, she decided as her eyes made out the patterns on the lush fabric curtains and upholstery on the furniture. Thick Oriental carpets were scattered across the parquet floor.
The surfaces of the various pieces of furniture were dust-free and as she inhaled, the aroma of lemon teased her nostrils. The gleaming tops of the small occasional tables and dresser held assorted mementos, all of them a testament to his apparent wealth and travels. Ornate silver candlesticks. A Fabergé egg. On the far wall what looked like a triptych of marquetry featuring various countrysides.
On the dresser closest to the bed were a smattering of silver frames, inlaid with what looked like onyx and mother-of-pearl. She wished for more light so that she might see what photos were in the frames and learn more about the demon resting beside her.
Having finished her perusal of the room, she turned her attentions to him, considering all that he had revealed during the long course of the night.
He hated humans. He had said as much. She wondered if any vestiges of h
umanity remained within him or if the demon had taken it all.
The demon who she suspected Hadrian hated as well. She didn’t know how she knew that, but it seemed to her that for all his talk about the kind of life his vampire lover had given him, he was also angry about it. Angry and possibly full of regret.
Would she feel that way if he turned her?
Or did he just plan to drain her dry? She recalled his last words to her about whether her family would lament her passing.
Had his family lamented him?
She shifted in bed to face him. He had a Roman nose. Long and straight. Aquiline, some might say. His skin had an olive cast that last night had had a hint of color, but with the advent of the day, any and all traces of that flush of life had vanished.
That thought grabbed her attention and she glanced at the bedcovers over him, searching for any sign of breath. A very slow rise and fall, much slower than that of a human. Almost as if he were in deep hibernation.
Returning her perusal to his face, her gaze lingered on his full lips, relaxed in sleep. Dare she say that there was even a hint of a smile there?
Did vampires dream?
Below the mouth that enticed her touch was a chin with just the hint of a cleft.
So handsome, she thought again and shook her head.
She clearly had lacked for male companionship for far too long if she was actually attracted to this psycho bloodsucker.
Her friends in the office would tease her that this was what she got for spending too much time working and not allowing herself a chance to play. Even the week she had taken for Christmas vacation had been selected primarily because she knew it would be a slow time of year at the office.
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