Exist (Vampire Assassin League Book 30)
Page 3
Despite his efforts, the groan slipped past his lips. He lowered his chin. Sought her gaze and locked to it. Concentrated. Sent mesmeric power in waves that were nearly visible. She regarded him for several long moments. Their hearts thumped in tandem. Each breath matched. And his shaking intensified until his boot heels clicked audibly against stone.
“Well. This is...unexpected.”
Unexpected?
That was her word for this? He was dealing with a morass of emotion that threatened to unman him, and she was immune? What had happened to his enthralling powers? And then he knew. They needed light. He couldn’t connect with her unless they locked gazes. And for that, she’d need to see him.
“We need light,” she remarked, reading his mind.
“Yes.”
Anso raced beneath a carved black stone arch that looked natural, reached a courtyard open to the elements. Crossed it. A moment later, they were at one of the heavy wooden doors that accessed his home. He was shaking as he entered a hall. Selected a chamber.
Ah.
He was in luck.
He’d reached the silver rooms.
These had just been cleaned. Aired. He had eight bedroom suites. Never used. Kept ready. Available. Maintained if, and when, he remembered. The silver suite was perfect. This must be fate. Not only was it dust-free and immaculate, but these rooms were the most richly appointed. Black rock walls had been covered over with wall hangings of silk, interspersed with real silver threads. The rock floors were strewn with rugs of white and silver hue. The furniture was white ash, heavily embossed with more silver, while the linens were the finest silk. Ermine lined another treasure – the coverlet of the finest woven damask, also heavily embroidered with silver.
Anso smacked through the door, and flew through the receiving salon and into the bed chamber before he heard the sound of the door thudding shut. His movement turned on the motion-activated lighting. Candles started flickering from multiple candelabra, as if they were real and not the latest technology. The glow tempered the effect of so much silver, but the rooms still sparkled. Leah gasped. He felt, more than heard it as she lifted her head from him and viewed the enclosure.
He experienced what had to be a flash of pride. It added to the mix of emotions he was already suffering. Honed them. And why? Because his home wasn’t antiquated. There was a river below the edifice with enough water flow to supply electricity. Indoor plumbing. A natural gas vent gave him everything else a human might require. It was all another mark that he’d foregone his barbarian roots.
“This is—.” Her voice stopped. She shook her head.
“Yes?” Anso prompted.
“Not what I had in mind.”
Her words had the effect of a splash of cold water. It chilled, sent a sizzling sound through his ears, but then it quickly dissipated. Anso straightened slightly. The move lifted her. He tried to keep a defensive tone from his reply. It probably failed. The words were also slurred around his fangs. Almost unintelligible.
“It’s...not?”
“I was thinking more on the line of illuminating things so I could figure them out. I was not planning on going even deeper into psychosis.”
“This is my silver chamber,” he informed her.
“I’ll buy that...but that. Right there. Is a bed.”
“Yes.”
Her essence drew him. He tightened his arms more. Lifted her easily. Lowered his nose to her ear. Found the perfect spot below it.
...the line of her throat.
“Anso.”
She said his name with a voice that trembled. Anso inhaled. Held the breath for long moments. And then exhaled. It was stupid, akin to fanning a fire. Taking any banked spark and flashing it to life. But it was impossible to stop the mating force. He’d given up trying. She didn’t understand. She was too necessary. Her essence too vital. Joining with her compulsory. Beyond containment.
...and her blood!
”You need...to put me down.”
Her voice was a bare tremor of sound that ended in a low moan. Anso opened his mouth and licked a trail into existence along her throat, held his tongue at the lifted section of a vein as it throbbed with her pulse beat. And then he answered.
“No.”
The word was whispered against her neck. He watched her skin lift with shivers. His canines responded instantly. With raging need. He licked his lips. Shuddered in place. Fought to control the uncontrollable. He wanted her desperately, but he wanted her just as willing. Hungry. Afire with the same inferno of desire he faced.
“If I wish...a man into existence...the least he can do...is obey.”
Wish?
Obey?
Had she really linked those two words? Caught her breath several times through the sentence? And moaned the last word? And she expected him to make sense?
Anso grunted. He was losing his last restraint. The force he held back kept mounting. It was just as he’d said, what felt like eons ago at the steps. Where they’d met. She didn’t understand.
“Did you really wish for a man tonight?”
“Um. Forget I just said that, okay?”
Her skin moved against his teeth, slicing the smallest bit. Anso lifted several inches from the floor. Hovered there as the first hint of her blood seeped to the surface. Slowly sank back down.
“Any...man? Or me?”
The words were harsh-sounding. Almost guttural. Easily demonstrating how they’d grated against his throat.
“Anso.”
His name was a breathless tone, filled with emotion. He could only hope it was as it sounded – desperation.
“And you expect...obedience?”
The words were difficult to understand. He didn’t have much time left to explain them, either. His fangs were throbbing. His rod pressed against leather in accompaniment. This was becoming torment...to a painful degree.
“Just kiss me already!”
Anso rocked in place. Groaned. And did something much more potent.
He bit her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leah had always dealt with things from a certain standpoint. She believed that the mind was in control. The way a person experienced life was due to how their brain processed the data it received. Mind power was the key. It controlled everything, even physical response. The mind was the all-powerful controlling factor.
But it could do some strange things.
It brought monsters to life and made them terrifying entities, sent unshakable dark clouds to darken a sunny day, altered a beauty queen’s reflection into that of an ogre. The mind could turn any happy moment into a morass of decay and darkness. Most of her clients had contemplated suicide before seeing her. None had gone through with it.
And she was determined to keep that record.
That’s why she’d become a psychologist. She had a real gift. She’d felt it since childhood. She could relate to a person while she met with them, figure out and empathize with their underlying issues, and work with them. She didn’t conquer demons, she helped people figure out how to do it themselves. With that came a real sense of fulfillment and contentment. Leah had a lot of satisfied clients who referred her services to others. Steven commented on it at every monthly meeting.
She was absolutely certain the mind was the key to a happy life. It was able to see through any number of things to find reality. For some reason, hers had decided to take an unscheduled hiatus after the fourth shot of vodka, as if – all-of-a-sudden –she’d developed an allergy to alcohol and this was a Substance-Induced Psychotic Disorder. Or, maybe somebody had slipped her a drug for some reason and she was suffering Substance-Induced Psychotic Disorder with Hallucinations. Hard to believe Steven wouldn’t have seen that.
Or – just maybe – this was easily explainable. Perhaps she’d fallen off the bench and hit her head, knocking herself unconscious. It was possible. Fairly improbable – but still, there had to be an explanation for this. Because facts were facts. Immutable. Absolute. Incorruptibl
e.
This man – this almost god-like guy – did not exist. He couldn’t. Not only was he way too gorgeous but he created all kinds of physical havoc throughout her body. Those were both impossible. Anso had not grabbed her to him and leapt into thin air. Nor had he somehow sped through the night sky. She’d watched it happen. That didn’t make it real. As for this silver room? The one with the big bed and decadently luxurious bedding? It didn’t exist, either, although if she had conjured up the perfect seductive atmosphere, she’d have imagined something like this.
Exactly.
Maybe she was just dreaming. It was very real, but some dreams were. And she had been tired. Perhaps the history of the city had gotten to her...as well as lack of sex. She could be suffering Hypoactive Sexual Disorder due to Separation Anxiety, but she doubted it. She’d had a good physical workout, sat down to rest, and this was the result. She’d gotten tired of waiting for the tour group, settled onto the bench, and simply nodded off. The chill hadn’t been conducive to a nap, but that was the most probable explanation for this. Because anything else was really ‘off-the-charts’ unbelievable.
But then Anso did something to her neck, and everything she thought she knew got upended.
And then obliterated.
The most heavenly symphony of sensation shot through her. Everywhere. Her breasts immediately felt fuller, heavy, and extremely sensitive. Her belly got a tickling sensation just before heat slammed through it on the way to her loins. And with that plethora of fire came an itch of irritation, and a lot of carnal desire.
A lot.
A heavy throbbing sound started up in the room, pulling her pulse into rhythm with it. Loud. Deep. Continual. Without any instruction from her, she turned toward him, shoved her breasts into his chest and started moving. Sinuously matching the beat about her. Her nipples went to hard knots against the lace-cupped bra –which should have scratched at least some of the itch – but, it didn’t. And the stupid silk blouse buttoned in the back. She couldn’t get any closer despite how she desperately needed to. And worse. The frustration turned into a cry that she actually voiced.
Oh no!
She was acting like a female in heat, something that should be exactly as embarrassing as it sounded...except that Anso pulled away from her and sent a harsh, bestial sound into existence. It blended with the throbbing permeating the room, lifted shivers all over her body, and covered over any noise she made. He also began shuddering so violently it lifted them from the floor. And they didn’t come back down.
“Bed,” she said.
“Yes,” he answered.
A moment later, her back, shoulders, and buttocks met the embroidered surface of that exquisite coverlet. Anso was right with her, holding her to him. Covering. Enclosing. Entwining. His hands slid along her arms, he twined his fingers with hers, and swung his arms wide, pushing their conjoined hands above her head, and then he stopped. For an incalculable amount of time. Poised above her. Looking down at her. Their gazes locked. Their breaths became huge heaves for air. Commingling. Raising rivulets of shivers, that each spewed sparks.
And there was something really strange about his mouth.
Those weren’t—?
He had fangs?
Oh. No way. She had to dream up a gorgeous masculine god and then add in vampirism? Handsome, dark, and masculine weren’t enough? She had to stir a dangerous vibe in with the sexual ones already shooting off him? She struggled briefly against him but the pleasure of his touch, his body against hers left her panting with want. Hungry with need.
“Ans—?”
The name wasn’t finished. He tipped his head down, tickled the sides of her face with his unbound hair, and slammed his lips to hers. Leah sucked in air that brought a salty tang. She licked, and after the first taste, she was returning the kiss. Her body lurched up in surprise, the reaction mixed with pleasure, a torrent of unleashed passion. A tsunami of desire. Blizzard of want.
And a complete need for immediacy.
And then the kiss ended. Anso’s weight disappeared. The man moved with incredible speed. He was a blur at the side of the bed. Leah watched him shuck his sword and a long dagger somewhere behind him. They clattered against the stone floor. The leather strapped about his shoulders got pulled off next; the matching cuffs were yanked off his wrists, and then he started on his belt. The entire time, he didn’t move his eyes from hers.
Well.
She didn’t need another hint. This was really happening. She might as well go with it. Oh. Screw that idea. She was going to be an active participant. It might be a dream, but it was the best damn dream she’d ever had. It would probably ruin her sex life for the rest of her mortal years. Turn her off every future encounter.
Leah ignored the slightest hint of inner voice.
The one that cautioned.
Warned.
And got silenced.
She sat, shoved her shoes off. Crawled to her knees, and—
This was weird.
It was her dream, yet she still wore Steve’s coat. How was that possible? It was undamaged, too. Well. No way was she damaging it. Or wrinkling it. Or doing anything that might clue Steven into the fact that she’d had a sex dream to end all sex dreams. Not even Doctor Freud would be able to analyze this. Leah opened buttons. The coat fell off. There wasn’t a hook in sight, so she did the next best thing. She stood and reached upward, barely managing to access the top of a cannonball post on the footboard so she could drape the suit coat over it.
Then she swiveled, looked over and then down to Anso. And her jaw dropped.
Holy shit.
The man hadn’t been idle. He’d shed his clothing and stood staring up at her with eyes that glowed a strange shade. Dark red. Like pooled blood. But she didn’t lock gazes with him this time. Nor did she stop and mentally process what really did look like fangs. There was a reason. Anso was a massive and chiseled male. She didn’t have any way to avoid seeing and recognizing just how massive and chiseled. And he certainly wasn’t suffering Male Erectile Dysfunction. Oh. My. He had his hands on his hips, his pose indicative of a Michelangelo sculpture. Only Anso had a lot more than any nude model she’d ever seen. He was obviously proud of that fact.
With good reason.
Oh. My. My. My.
She’d been right. This dream was going to ruin her for any other man. And any other interlude. For life. And...what the heck? It was going to be worth it!
But wait!
Damn everything.
She couldn’t go through with this. The man standing before her deserved a supermodel for a lover, someone as fit as he was. Not a woman with a weight problem. One who wore goddess-sized clothing from specialty stores. Atop a girdle thing called shape-wear.
Oh. Crap.
She’d forgotten that. She’d have red marks. She’d probably look like a stuffed sausage. There was too much light in the room for this, and—
Anso growled.
He literally growled.
Bass tones surged through the room with such power it lifted strands of her hair. The notes reached out and joined the thumping rhythm already in existence. Her thighs trembled with a rush of weakness. Her knees were next. Leah grabbed onto the footboard post to keep from falling. She moved her glance to the wood. It was solid. Heavy. Cool to the touch. And even that felt erotic between her breasts!
“What?” she whispered.
“You need to finish. Now.”
Leah cleared her throat. It sounded ineffectual, and proved as much when she spoke, trying to sound assertive, even while facing the post. “Whoa. Anso. Um. There is machismo, and there is over-the-top macho. And I’m telling you—.”
“I warn you, wiblih. You do not have much time.”
She gasped. Her eyes went wide. Her voice managed to work. “What...does that word mean?”
“Female.”
Her eyes went even wider.
“I will tear your clothing from you.”
He wouldn’t dare.
Everywhere.
Well.
What the hell.
This was her dream, but if this fantasy-god made one wisecrack about her Junoesque figure or love handles or how she needed to hit a gym or stay away from the doughnuts – just one – she was ending this. She only hoped she didn’t cry for a week afterward, too.
The linen jacket came off easily. The blouse buttons at the back of her neck gave her a little trouble. She pulled the silk over her head, creating static that lifted hair strands with the motion. Now that her jacket was off, the tight confines of her skirt were on display. She had to peel it down over her hips before shimmying it to a pool of fabric at her ankles. She glanced down. She’d been right. The flesh-toned girdle made her look like a stuffed sausage. She should have bought the larger size. She braved a glance toward Anso to see his reaction. He was frowning. His upper lip was lifted in a sneer. And there was no denying it.
He really did have fangs. Real ones!
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit
Oh, shit.
“You are a maid?” he asked.
Leah blinked. She had to process this. Her mind needed to—
“Is that why you wear a chastity belt?” he continued.
“A...what?”
“That.”
He pointed. At her girdle. Leah blushed severely. A portion of her brain told her this was not how a dream was supposed to go. The rest of her was beyond thought. Her entire body was alert. Despite embarrassment, she felt irritated. Moist. Ready.
She knew exactly what she wanted.
And where.
She licked her lips. “There is nothing chaste...about this, okay? It’s a foundation garment. For a full-figured woman.”
Anso growled again, this time in an even lower timbre, as if that was even possible. The throbs of sound about her went louder. Stronger. And the same exact sequence of events happened throughout her body, only this time the weak feeling wasn’t just at her legs. It slithered a bit higher and that messed with her ability to think, speak, and breathe.