“That was where I met Oscar. I was a teacher’s assistant for his British literature class. He retired my senior year, and offered me a job working for him at the bookstore until I was able to find a job in my field. I graduated last year with honors and a bachelor’s degree with a specialty in medieval literature, and have been working full time at the bookstore ever since. Not a lot of people looking for experts in medieval lit at the moment,” she concluded with a shrug. She jabbed at the fluke with her fork.
* * * *
“I’m sure you’ll find something that interests you soon, Kaelyn. You’ve got plenty of time,” Tyrian said as he reached across the table to sample the veal.
“That’s what Oscar keeps telling me. Though if that’s to encourage me to keep looking, or because he doesn’t want me to leave, I’m not sure,” she said, pushing her plate away from her.
* * * *
“Are you not hungry?” Tyrian gestured to the partially-eaten dishes in front of her. He’d purposefully chosen the lighter dishes, unsure of what she would like.
“I’ve never been one to eat very much. My stomach is what some might call selective of what it chooses to accept. For some reason, it’s heavily partial to red meat.” Her disgruntled look betrayed her despondency with her stomach’s preferences.
“It’s the blood content,” Tyrian stated matter-of-factly.
The look on her face as she regarded him caused a sinking feeling in the pit of his own stomach. He hadn’t realized that he’d voiced that aloud.
Tyrian often found himself in the same predicament, his altered genetics giving way to the particularly vampiric trait. While he may not have needed to consume blood to survive, his palate and digestive systems still appeared partial to the vice.
“What I mean is, some people have a low heavy metal count. The extra iron in the blood of red meat can sometimes serve to ease their digestion.” He hoped that it didn’t sound as flimsy to her as it did to him.
A thoughtful look crossed Kaelyn’s features, and Tyrian fought down a sigh of relief when she didn’t look at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted three heads.
“I never thought of that before.” She took a sip of her wine.
“It’s just something I read in a journal somewhere, I suppose.” He shrugged, hoping that the subject was dropped.
It did interest him, however, that she suffered from the same affliction he did. He’d been bluffing about the heavy metal content in the red meat, and now that he thought about it, certain peculiarities about the woman sitting in front of him suddenly caught his attention. The most glaring of these: his immediate and persistent attraction to her.
The more he thought back on it, the more the pieces began to fall into place. The unfamiliar burning of his marking when he first laid eyes on her, her ambiguous heritage, and the fact that her digestive system preferred red meat…
It couldn’t be that simple.
Could it?
There was only one way to find out. He would have to find some way or other to get her out of that dress. The prospect sent his mind wandering into decidedly dangerous territory.
As it happened, he didn’t have to think too long or hard about his quarry, as the object of his musings broke the proverbial straw herself.
“I hope that look on your face means you’re planning on taking me back to your place tonight,” Kaelyn said. In fact, he’d hoped to have more time to court her before luring her into his bed. He’d not had the forethought to warn Caleb that they might have company this night, not that it particularly mattered. They’d had the basement thoroughly soundproofed several years earlier, due to Tyrian’s heightened hearing and Caleb’s induction into adolescence. It had made the experience less embarrassing for the both of them. Unfortunately, if Tyrian was right, courting would have to be put on hold.
“I do admit, I’ve been playing the thought through in my head for quite some time now.” He reached up to gently loosen the black silk tie at his neck.
“Me, too,” Kaelyn stated unabashedly. She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and shot him a stare that might have had him grabbing her and pulling her into a soul-wrenching kiss had they not been seated in an established and slightly crowded restaurant.
Raising his hand to flag down their waiter for the check, Tyrian swiftly downed the rest of his glass. Alcohol had little to no effect on him, but it was a shame to waste such a fine wine. Surely the waiting staff would see to polishing off the remainder of the bottle.
Ten minutes later, Tyrian and Kaelyn walked hand in arm out of the restaurant, and down the steps to his waiting black-on-black Range Rover. The waiter had asked the valet to bring the sporty SUV around when he’d asked for the check, so the interior was toasty warm when he opened the door for her to slide into the passenger seat. After generously tipping the valet, Tyrian sidled around to the driver’s side and climbed in, then glanced over at Kaelyn briefly before shifting into drive and heading off down the snow-covered streets of Boston.
Staring out the window, Kaelyn asked, “You live in the West End?”
He nodded, merging over to make a right turn onto Atlantic. “In Beacon Hill.”
“Of course you do.” She sighed, sat back into the heated seat, and smiled superciliously up at him.
“Are you begrudging me my fine taste?” Tyrian asked, half-jokingly, as they made their way down the crowded, snowy streets.
Kaelyn laughed. “No, just recognizing the vast differences in our lifestyles.”
“I think you may find that you and I are not quite as different as we seem.” He made the turn onto Beacon Street, and parked in front of a beautiful, antique brick brownstone.
After exiting the vehicle, Tyrian moved around to the passenger side, and opened the door to help Kaelyn out onto the curb. He smiled at her warmly as he took her hand in his and led her up the steps. Opening the door, he ushered her inside and turned on the light.
She gasped immediately and deeply as she took in the antique decor.
“I am what some may refer to as old-fashioned. I prefer things in their most natural setting. This property was one of the few brownstones in Beacon Hill that had not been renovated, and still contained all of the original architectural elements. There are five floors, including the underground apartment space, and the studio loft with walkout roof access. Eight bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, and two kitchens, as well as a heated pool on the roof. I certainly hope that will suffice as a tour for now, because I would very much like to take you upstairs and remove all of your clothes.” Tyrian gave the woman a highly suggestive once-over.
Kaelyn seemed overwhelmed; she did nothing but nod.
Tyrian swept Kaelyn off her feet, made for the stairway in the center of the room, and carried her the entire way to his elaborate master suite. After setting her down, he gave her a brief moment to take in her surroundings before he summarily hauled her against him and claimed her mouth with his.
Chapter 4
Kaelyn was drowning.
In all her twenty-three years, no one had ever kissed her like this: so completely, and with such unbridled passion. She could only hold on as he drank from her lips, taking from her completely until she melted in his arms. His taste reminded her of spiced rum, intoxicating in its sweetness and tingly texture, burning through her body down to her very core. Her head felt light and airy, falling to his every whim. Every brush of his tongue against hers sent a spark of pure electric sensation shooting straight through every nerve ending in her body; some she hadn’t even known she had.
Her most Epicurean fantasies didn’t even come close to matching the strength and skill that Tyrian drowned her in with his lips, teeth, and tongue. He drew her in and ignited her blood with a fervor she’d never even dreamed of. He drank from her mouth with the tenacity of a man starved.
He captured her senses so absolutely that she completely lost track of where she ended and he began. The simple brush of his sinfully skillful tongue set her body ablaze with desire, runni
ng like fire through her veins. She briefly registered him removing her coat, running his hands over her shoulders, and depositing the black brocade pea coat on the floor at her feet.
Gasping in air as he pulled his lips from hers, Kaelyn stared through hooded eyes at her fantasy come to life. Emblazoned, once bright and now darkened green eyes held her captive where she stood, rooted to the spot on suddenly shaky legs. He encircled her slender waist with his strong and steady arms, pulling her securely against his firm chest as the tiniest wisp of air escaped her parted lips in a breathy gasp of shocked sensation.
He was so close, breathing in the scent of her painstakingly styled curls, his hot breath fanning over her neck as he exhaled. Her gaze slid in and out of focus; heavy, shadow-coated lids drifted somewhere between open and closed as long, dark eyelashes dusted over the flushed skin of her cheeks.
Tyrian’s simple presence intoxicated Kaelyn, turning her into a pile of barely coherent mush from the inside out. Her heart beat so rapidly that surely he could feel it against his chest, trying to escape the riot that had become her body. Her breath came in ragged, panting gasps as she clutched tightly at his shoulders, afraid that she would fall completely apart if she let go. Her state of mind now a hazy fog, she did not notice the ever-increasing madness creeping in behind her vision, enticing her to give herself over to the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body: coercion with which she willingly complied.
A sharp pain invaded the clouds obscuring her conscious thought, bringing her back to her fractured senses long enough to realize that she had just been bitten. Confused, unfocused hazel met molten jade once more; the soft pad of a solitary finger smoothed over the aggravated skin of her neck.
* * * *
Tyrian had felt Kaelyn leave him, losing herself to the rioting emotions racking her body. He, too, was not quite immune to her presence. The intoxicating feel of her supple and entirely too-willing body beneath his hands filled him with a rush of male pride at having such a prize completely under his whim. A dangerous combination of need and power almost overwhelmed him, until he remembered why he had truly brought her there. Perhaps it was different for her, but this was not a simple night of mindless indulgence for him. He’d waited too long for this kind of opportunity, and he would not waste it on his overactive libido. They would both be coherent for this if it killed him.
Almost reluctantly, the Vampire Hunter pulled away from his female companion. Taking a deep breath into his starving lungs, he tried to expel a sudden bout of nervousness as he finally took a good look at her. Soft, pouting pink lips parted to draw in heavy air to her own lungs. Slightly flushed, rosy-hued skin glowed dimly in the light of street lamps, flowing in from the open window coverings. Her slightly mussed hair, falling in soft wisps about her lace-covered shoulders, spilled down her back in gentle waves.
Tyrian’s deep green eyes traveled down Kaelyn’s subtle curves. The dress she had chosen for the evening seemed to have been made for her. Hugging her curves in just the right places, yet concealing enough to make the imagination wander into untamed territory. More than once during dinner, he had caught himself imagining what it would be like to feel those enticing curves under his own hands, to taste the soft skin beneath his fingertips, as he had dreamed of since he first saw her in that bookshop. But one thing about her captivated him the most, drew him in as nothing else could: her eyes. Deep, heavy-lidded pools of molten chocolate swirling with forest green, they spoke of passion the depths of which he could not fathom. He would soon come to know the true meaning of that passion.
* * * *
Kaelyn nearly moaned in protest when his warm presence pulled away from her, leaving her feeling empty. The now-dull throb of pain in her neck served to remind her of her sudden lapse of judgment. If his simple presence affected her to such an extent, she could not hope to fathom what the rest of the night would bring. She took in the sight before her through heavy lids, tracing over every contour of the untamed stallion. The deep onyx suit he had chosen for the evening was tailored to fit, the darkness of it bringing out the subtle golden undertones in the Hunter’s emerald gaze.
His tie had come loose on the car ride over, the majority of which she could not clearly remember. It now hung unsecured from beneath the confines of his black dress shirt, which currently hung open by the first two buttons, giving the barest hint of what lay beneath. Time slowed to a crawl as they just stared, neither of them moving for fear of breaking the moment. And then, almost tenuously, Kaelyn lifted her hand. Her fingers seemingly moved of their own single-minded volition towards the loosened tie hanging from Tyrian’s neck, and tugged.
The soft sound of cloth hitting lacquered wood echoed in the heavy air as they brought their lips together in an ardent fervor, searing each other’s long-abated passion into their very being. Tyrian tangled desperately searching fingers inside Kaelyn’s chestnut brown tresses to press against the nape of her neck. He massaged in small, languid, circular motions, effectively relaxing her in his embrace as he placed his other hand on the small of her back, applying a slight pressure and drawing her closer still. She parted her lips to release a soft moan of pleasure at the action, an opportunity of which he took full advantage, sweeping in to savor the treasures within.
Kaelyn’s vision blanked, and her jaw went lax as the fingers massaging the back of her neck found a pressure point. Tyrian took full advantage, entering into the very depths of her tantalizing mouth. She tasted faintly of peppermint and ginger, a spicy sweet combination he could not get enough of. He could kiss her for hours, and it would not be enough, but he did not have the time to be taking things slow. The night could only last so long, and he would take as much from it as their bodies would allow.
Tyrian danced his deft fingers along the skin of Kaelyn’s neck. Slowly, he moved the hand that had rested against the small of her back upward. Teasing her side with the barest brush of contact, he left the trail of skin beneath the lace fabric of the dress aflame. Kaelyn managed to draw in a few desperate breaths of air as he pulled his lips from hers, leaving her no time to relax as he relentlessly attacked the helpless skin of her neck.
* * * *
As deliciously distracted as she was, Kaelyn did not take notice of the trail Tyrian had taken with his fingers. She sighed in incoherent approval as he inched the zipper at the back of the form-fitting black lace dress down with maddening slowness. He worked a single digit under each sleeve on either shoulder, holding the dress in place, and gently pulled, dragging the material down her arms. Even as the ebony material fell to the floor at her feet, Kaelyn didn’t register the chill of the open air against her naked skin, nor the not-so-candid intentions blazing in her companion’s darkened, virescent stare.
Not until Tyrian lowered his lips from her neck, trailing down the bare expanse of her collarbone. He returned his right hand to its place on the small of her back to steady her as he leaned her backward, continuing his burning trail downward to his ultimate destination. Not until he closed slightly swollen pink lips over the rosy peak of a single hardened areola did she finally register her situation. She parted her own lips in a gasped cry as her knees gave out, only the lone hand on the small of her back keeping her from becoming a puddle on the floor. He danced that all-too-skillful tongue over her rosy flesh; though she was now aware of her state of dress, she found herself unable to care.
With soft and lightly calloused fingers, Tyrian quickly worked Kaelyn’s other rosy nipple to a hardened peak. She nearly whined when he paused, then moved to continue his torturous ministrations on the other twin, lavishing them both in equally agonizing attention. Displaying remarkable dexterity for the state of her nerves, she made shaky work of dislodging the tiny buttons of the black dress shirt, currently keeping her from viewing his own splendor as he had so easily revealed hers.
Kaelyn snaked her trembling hands inside the mostly open shirt, having given up a little over halfway through the impossibly slick buttons. He gasped against her brea
st as she drifted over his own hardened peaks. She took full advantage of the moment to finish divesting him of the horridly complicated shirt, the most difficult machinery she’d ever had to deal with in her life. It took all of her willpower and then some to keep from ripping the irritating material right off of his body.
After what seemed like a never-ending struggle, Kaelyn snicked open the last button holding the shirt on the Hunter’s body, loose flaps falling open to reveal a lean and sculpted torso. She raised trembling hands, now shaking for an entirely different reason, and brushed fingers lightly over tanned flesh, taking in every quiver and outline of every inch of exposed skin and committing it to memory. She scored deft fingers over broad shoulders, dragging the accursed material down over strong arms. A tiny whine of frustration escaped her as the death contraption caught on the buttons at his wrists.
Tyrian must have noticed her distress, because a moment later, the fluttering black material joined her dress on the floor at their feet, as he captured her lips once more. She vaguely registered in the haze covering her mind that they were moving. He led her carefully through the large living space, never once breaking contact with her lips. Soft and cool silk slid against the exposed skin of her back as he laid her down on the bed. He swept his skillful tongue past her parted teeth and into the warm cavern of her mouth, teasing the spots that made her weak at the knees.
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