She shuddered as a rush of heat flooded her core, swelling her untouched flesh and setting a nearly unbearable tension there. She pressed her thighs together and arched her back, moaning. Galerius slid up her body to cover her mouth with his again, his hands bunching the shift and raising it. He broke their kiss only long enough to pull the garment over her head and discard it, then pressed her to him again. When her exposed skin met his, she moaned and opened her legs, raising one to hook around his waist.
He laughed low in his throat and eased her leg back down. “Do not rush me.” His cold, wet mouth moved from hers to kiss her chin, her jaw, suck her earlobe. Annabelle was powerless to do anything but clutch at his shoulders and gasp. He laved a trail down her neck, bit her shoulder gently. He smoothed his hands down her arms, raising gooseflesh there. Every movement he made brought him in contact with a new part of her body, a new part to be set alight with sensation. When his mouth closed over her breast again, she shrieked and writhed beneath him. When he stroked her other breast, rolled the nipple between his fingers, she could not breathe.
All the while, she burned, ached, rubbed against him and bit her lip to stop the senseless pleas that would escape if she tried to speak.
His body was cold and hard, as if it were carved out of stone, yet somehow he felt alive. His breath chilled the places on her skin where moisture still lingered from his kisses. He moved his attention from one breast to the other. The sensation lost nothing to repetition, and she writhed beneath him.
Never in her life had Annabelle felt so out of control, so reckless, so…free. All thoughts of being a proper lady fled, though she had not truly cared to act the part of a proper lady to begin with. Still, being loosed from the restraints of what was and wasn’t allowed sent a delicious thrill through her.
Galerius slid down her body, though she gripped his arms and whimpered for him to stay where he was. He trailed his fingers down her stomach, and the flesh there trembled under his touch. He moved ever closer to the part of her that demanded his attention, sliding the muslin drawers over her hips. She held her breath as the cool air touched her enflamed flesh. She was too exposed, too open to his gaze and touch, in a way no one had seen her before. A pang of anxiety forced her legs together, but his body between them impeded her, and he dropped to his knees in front of the bunk and forced her legs wide apart with a hand on each thigh. The breath she had held rushed out of her in a shuddering moan she could not restrain. Certainly he did not intend to put his mouth on her there…certainly he would not…
When you live forever, you’re bound to make a few mistakes.
In the Dark
© 2009 P.G. Forte
Children of Night, Book 1
1969 San Francisco. World-weary Conrad Quintano should have known better than to fall in love with a human—much less Suzanne Fischer, the barely legal, adventure-seeking hippie beauty known as Desert Rose. And the very last thing he should have agreed to do was to raise her babies and protect them with his life. But even twelve-hundred-year-old master vampires can find it hard to reject a deathbed request—especially when issues of love, guilt and blood are involved.
Present day. Raised in virtual isolation, twins Marc and Julie Fischer have always known they were vampires. But they never knew their parentage—or their unique status in the vampire world—until their “uncle” Damian comes to fetch them home. The family reunion, however, isn’t what they expect. They’re thrust into a world for which they’re totally unprepared. And the father they expected to see, Conrad, is missing.
How to find him…and whom to trust? Solving the mystery of betrayal and vampire family values will prove the Beatles had it right. All you need is love…and an occasional side of blood.
Warning: While reading this book you may experience any of the following, an increased desire to wear flowers in your hair, dress in tie-dye or nap during the day. Other symptoms may include an intolerance to sunlight, an aversion to garlic flavored tofu and a pronounced urge to bake…or get baked.
Enjoy the following excerpt for In the Dark:
“Isn’t this place fantastic?” Suzanne sighed as they strolled in the shadows of towering redwoods, breathing in all the cool, night scents. The fog was settling in, and between that and the trees, it should have been too dark to see. It wasn’t. Flickering torches, set along the winding paths that cut through the property took care of that. Given the costume she was wearing and the autumn breeze, she should have been shivering with cold. She wasn’t. The man walking beside her, with his electric voice and simmering smile, took care of that. “I don’t believe any of the rumors about it being haunted though, do you? I think it’s more like…well, like being in a fairy tale, or something.”
The sound of Conrad’s soft laughter made her cringe. He smiled indulgently. “A very dark fairy tale, perhaps, yes? Populated with monsters and demons and things too terrible to mention.”
Suzanne bit her lip. Fairy tales. What must he think of her, hearing her talk about such silly things? He was older—how much older, she couldn’t say, but definitely over thirty—and more worldly and cultured and altogether more fascinating than anyone she’d ever met before. And here she was, when she should be trying to act as sophisticated as possible, saying things only a baby would think to say. “I just meant…well, it’s just such a…such a gas to be here, don’t you think so too? I wonder who owns it.”
He slanted a curious look her way. “Don’t you know? Who brought you here, anyway?”
“No one, really. I was with some friends the other day and I guess they’d overheard some other people talking about it. They said they throw parties like this almost every weekend and that it was a real happening scene. So I thought I’d come and see for myself.”
“A happening scene. I see.” They walked a few more steps before Conrad asked, almost hesitantly, “So…is that…is that a good thing then?”
“Conrad! Of course it is!” Laughter bubbled up before she even considered that, perhaps, he was making fun of her, but the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t. “Look around you,” she said, slipping her arm free of his so she could twirl in place, her arms spread wide. “It’s all so…dreamy.” However older and worldly he might be, there were still things he didn’t know. She liked that. She liked the rush of power she got from the thought there were things she could teach him, things she could show him and tell him about—new things, things he might never even think of on his own. The realization left her so jubilant she didn’t even protest when he took hold of her hand and pulled her into his arms.
His kiss was nothing like she’d expected. It was earthy and dark, with just a hint of buried sweetness and a taste that was almost familiar. Tempting, yet somehow forbidden, just like the baker’s chocolate she’d once watched her foster mother use to make a cake.
The tantalizing scent as it melted in the top of the double boiler had made Suzanne salivate. No matter how much she’d begged for a piece, she wasn’t allowed so much as a crumb. So, that night, she’d crept down to the kitchen and stolen a square. It, too, was nothing like she’d expected. Bitter, intense, but exciting, all the same. Like her first sip of coffee. Or her first taste of love.
The press of Conrad’s mouth on hers was hypnotic. She couldn’t break the spell his kiss laid on her even if she’d wanted to. No more than she could keep from moaning in protest when he pulled away. His hand slid across her bare back, took hold of her hair and tugged. She let her head fall back as his open mouth ghosted, warm and wet, over her neck, as though he was searching for just the right spot. Her heart seemed to stop. The night grew still. Even the breeze seemed to settle as she waited, breathless for…something.
It never came.
Instead, Conrad’s mouth reversed course, traveling back up her neck to her ear where he whispered, “So much sweetness. It would be a shame to rush what should be savored. You’ll spend the night with me.”
That stopped her—almost. Stifling a gasp, she pushed out of his arms.
His eyes blazed red gold in the light reflecting from the torches and his expression was one of faint surprise, as though her actions startled him, as though he hadn’t been expecting her to show even this much resistance.
Why shouldn’t she resist? He was The Unknown personified—so much older, worldly, cultured…different. So very unexpected.
On the other hand, why would she resist? Wasn’t it for exactly this reason she’d left the no-name town she’d grown up in, vowing to put her past, with all its unhappiness, behind her? Isn’t this why she’d come to the city—why she’d come here tonight, to this very house—to experience life, to taste freedom, to embrace the unknown?
“All right. I’ll stay.” Smiling, she melted back into his embrace and lifted her face for his kiss. It was even headier this time around, darker somehow. Definitely intoxicating. It made her head spin and her eyes grow heavy. When her knees gave way he lifted her into his arms, holding her lightly, as though she weighed nothing at all.
“Just so you know,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, as he carried her back toward the house, “I wasn’t offering you a choice.”
A choice of what, she wondered, lazily. But, nestled safely in his arms, she didn’t care to pursue it.
She did know one moment of anxiety, however, when he stopped in the hallway to speak to Armand. There was something in the way the other man looked at her. The predatory gleam in his eyes, the subtle flaring of his nostrils, sent shivers running down her spine and had her closing her eyes again, more tightly than before. Had her pressing her face into the silk of Conrad’s shirt, curling instinctively closer to him. Like the rabbits she’d once watched in the fields back home, hunkering down on the ground when a hawk passed overhead.
When they started up the stairs leading to the mansion’s upper floors she roused herself enough to ask, “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to my room.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her, as though awaiting her reaction.
She blinked in surprise. “Your room? Do you live here?”
“I do,” he replied, his smile even more evident. “I own this house. This happening scene into which you’ve stumbled belongs to me. And, you, my sweet, little uninvited one, are about to pay the penalty for trespassing.”
“Things too terrible to mention,” she murmured, trying to think back to what they’d said earlier, causing Conrad to almost miss a step.
His eyebrows rose as he stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “I sincerely hope not. Is that how it seems to you?”
Yawning, she closed her eyes and nestled closer. “No. You said that. I said it was like a dream.”
Uncross My Heart Page 26