Vampire Trinity Page 18


“When you came back,” she continued, her voice strained, “you didn"t ask me to be your servant anymore. You wouldn"t even let me volunteer to do it. You never told me what changed. I want to know.”


Bending his head, he pressed his nose into her hair, letting his eyes close briefly. She stayed still in his grasp, her body so close to his, her blood rushing through her veins, her scent in his nose. He could overpower her, seduce her into silence, take her to screaming orgasm, but the question would still be there, and her trust would be eroded further. He"d come home to something different between them. He could feel how much she wanted what he wanted, to touch her body, claim it anew, but only she could unlock her heart. To do that, he had to unlock his.


Lifting his head, he met her eyes. Over the past five years, he"d learned to give more of himself to her than he"d ever given to anyone, but there were places into which he still didn"t invite her. He needed to start learning to handle that differently, not just because that was what she would ultimately demand, but it was what she needed. And he wasn"t sure he could refuse her anything she truly needed.


“When I left, I had to come to grips with who and what you were at that time. Human, yes, but with a will very distinct from my own. Most vampires are attracted to humans who have an element of submission to them, cher. We sniff it out like bloodhounds, much the way nature brings together compatible creatures for mating. On the surface, and even in the deeper layers, you aren"t that. When I touch you, you submit to me, but you don"t do it as a natural submissive. You fight me; you challenge me; you do it on your own terms, as a Mistress.


Much like your unique servant, there is something in you that allows your nature to surrender and submit, but only under specific circumstances, with one person. It makes you a very different animal. However, unlike Gideon, you could never have been my servant. Anwyn Inara Naime is a female Dominant. You would never view three marks as anything but a prison.”


Sliding his other arm around her waist, he kept her pinned between the wall and his body.


His cock was hard and insistent against the juncture of her thighs, making her lips part, but her fingers clutched his biceps, her eyes waiting, watching.


“There are things about each of us we can"t change, things that no one can or should ask us to change.” He spread his fingers over her right buttock, began to gather the skirt up, inch by inch, letting it climb her thighs. “That is what I realized. I realized that I would destroy what I loved about you by asking you to be what you couldn"t be.”


When her fingers dug into his biceps, as if to stop him, he shook his head, his dark eyes staying on hers as the skirt went up farther, exposing her to the cool air. “I will not be refused, cher. I"ve wanted you for too long, and you are mine, even if you try to deny it.” Her jaw firmed, and those nails pierced his flesh anyway. Glancing down, he saw his blood well up beneath her thumb, trickle over the curve of the muscle. “Brian told you that you could wear the razors under your nails again.”


“Just the thumbs for now.” Her eyes sparked. “I want you to promise me that you will tell me everything. Everything that"s going to happen, everything that"s happening now.


Everything you know that will affect me. If you don"t, I"ll start scouring Gideon"s mind like bakeware and you . . .”


His brow rose, waiting, and her lips firmed. “You"re not impervious. I"ll figure out some way to torment you, make your life hell.”


“Oh, cher.” Letting his touch ease on her buttock, becoming a fondling motion, he twined his other fingers in her loosened hair. She"d worn it down, because she knew he liked it loose.


She"d worn his favorite lingerie, and her skin had a fragrant scent of lavender, also his favorite.


“To do that, you only have to withhold your forgiveness from me.” He slid a thumb over her cheek, acutely aware of how her lips trembled before she firmed them. “Do you have plans to forgive me for everything that still lies between us?”


“I"ve penciled in something for a couple of decades from now.” He"d been respecting her attempts to maintain a shield between them, weak and thin though it was right now, but he got a flash of mixed emotions, her desire for what he could give her now warring with pride and fear. She needed him too much for the former, was too brave to let the other hold sway.


Millimeter by millimeter, however, the tension eased from her, and then he was just holding her against the wall, her legs wound around his thighs. “Yes. I will shower with you,” she said.


“Good.” Taking a moment, he put his forehead against hers again. Tentatively, her fingers came up, outlined his jaw, the slope of his cheeks.


“Daegan.” She spoke his name softly, and his eyes closed. In a quick movement, he lifted her in his arms, and carried her back through the main room. Gideon had stretched out in front of the TV. Feeling his gaze following them, Daegan headed for his spacious multi-jet shower.


He wasn"t a man who needed many comforts. However, having been bathed in blood so often, he was fond of a device that could wash away blood from so many angles, even the invisible blood of past struggles.


Gideon’s lonely. Confused. Her sultry mind voice stroked his aroused nerves. Wants to be with us, but doesn’t know what that means.


He’s fine. We’ll take care of him later. Daegan put her on her feet on the tile, steadied her as he turned on the water.


As her serious eyes studied his face, he unhooked her bra, slid it off her arms. He didn"t allow her to undress, but handled it himself, wanting to touch her skin as he pushed the skirt over her hips, caught the panties and took care of them. When he straightened, she placed her hands on his chest, slid them upward. Like a bird spreading out wings, she fanned her fingers, taking them under the open shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. She curved her hands over the rounded muscle as it dropped to the ground. Her gaze devoured him.


“I still smell the remains of blood on you. Faint, but it"s there. You look tired and pale. You need to feed.”


“I need to fuck you more. Hard and deep. And I want your blood on my tongue as much as your cream.”


The way her eyes flamed in response, the wave of increased arousal he inhaled from between her legs, told him it was going to take restraint to hold off on doing what he wanted to do so much. He wanted to draw it out, tease both of them with it.


Her gaze still on his, her hands lowered to his waistband. “You may open my trousers, cher,” he said in a husky tone, “but you won"t touch my cock. Not yet. I want you wet and begging for it.”


“Afraid you might lose control and go off like a teenager?” Her lips curved but she obeyed, her nimble fingers slipping the hook and tugging down the zipper, incidental brushes of her knuckles only on the hard organ straining beneath.


“Behave,” he warned. “Or I"ll put you under the showerhead and let it force you to climax three or four times before I put myself inside you.”


She wanted to taunt him. He heard her start the thought, You won’t last that long, but then she pressed her lips together at the reaction in his gaze. She knew he"d do it, no matter his own desire. He"d given her the strike with the bat as her due, given her the answer to the question she needed for her heart, but he knew the difference between those things and her testing his dominance over her.


He"d held back through her anger, her nasty comments, because he"d needed time himself to know what was right and true. No matter what she was enduring, or the guilt he carried, the give-and-take between them was what they understood best. It was when they crossed blades, engaged in that delicate fencing, that they always found the way to the center of the complicated maze shielding each of their hearts. He was done holding back.


Shifting her naked body into the heated spray, he followed her there. Inside the comforting rush of water, he took up the soap. The spray pattered drops all over her, dampened her hair, the high breasts and tight nipples, sluicing down her belly. Considering that tempting view, he dropped to one knee. It surprised her, he could tell, as he began to wash her thighs. He followed the enticing limb up to the juncture between her legs. When he pressed the heel of his soapy hand to her labia, she bit her lip. Her fingers closed over his shoulders as she leaned back against the shower wall.


“It"s all stupid games, isn"t it?”


“What is, cher?”


“All those times I wanted something from you.” Her voice was embellished by the water"s whisper. “A word, a promise, things you couldn"t give. So I kept myself at arm"s length, not willing to give everything of myself because you wouldn"t. It was stupid. Because all along you felt the same way.”


“A promise unspoken is a promise never broken.”


Her blue-green eyes flickered. “Like books of magic. Knowing a true name is power, which is why someone never speaks their true name. Unspoken makes it more powerful. More real.” Rather than interpret his statement as a reluctance to say what was in his heart, she"d understood. She knew him, knew his heart. He"d never really fooled her. She"d just needed him to have the faith in her to say the words. Though she hadn"t yet completely forgiven or forgotten, it was something.


Rising, he cradled her face, staring down at her. With tenderness, he traced the bottom lip, touched the tiny lower fang, worked his way up to the longer upper canines, traced those as well. Her hand rested on his wrist, her body still, and he felt her attention like a magic of its own, closing around them both. Looking into her mind, he saw that there were so many things going on, orbiting around that center focus. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers, realized how rarely they"d done this, a sweet, lingering, mouth-to-mouth, a barely touching. There was a slight tremble through her body, and maybe through his. A lot had happened these past few weeks; a lot had changed.


He"d lived in combat mode for a long time. A crisis was dealt with, handled, and then he moved on. He"d done it so well, he hadn"t allowed himself much room to realize that, this time, more was needed, and not just for her. For him, as well. And maybe for another.