Crimson Psyche

by Lynda Hilburn

  “You’re pitiful, Kismet. Time to get a life,” I said aloud.

  An enticing aroma caressed my nostrils, I heard a familiar pop sound behind me and a velvet voice inches from my ear whispered, “What kind of life would you like? The possibilities are limitless.” Soft lips trailed kisses down my neck and my brain cells scrambled.

  Devereux...

  I began the mental hum, which had become automatic in the presence of vampires. So far, it kept me from getting killer headaches or turning into a lobotomized zombie around powerful bloodsuckers. My breath caught and it took me a couple of tries before I found my voice.

  “You’re back. There’s something I wanted to ask you. If I could only remember what it was...”

  Or why I’d want to use my mouth for talking when it could be put to much better uses.

  “Later.” He kissed my jaw and I was undone.

  As always when Devereux was near, my body rolled out the hormonal red carpet. I relaxed against his chest and savored his arousing fragrance, and the softness of his hair tickling the side of my face. My heart rate increased and my breath went shallow. Formerly functional knees softened. I was never sure if my reaction to his presence was excitement or fear, or a little of both. I used to wonder if my body responded to him only because of his powers as a master vampire, or if I was simply that attracted to him. After having his mind-muddling effect muted by the elders, it was a relief to know that my feelings — and lust — for him were purely natural.

  He couldn’t read my thoughts any more unless I was in the throes of some intense emotion. I tried to keep myself calm to avoid that, but he’d become very good at interpreting my visible cues.

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. Even though I was no longer unduly influenced by his presence, I still thought there had to be something wrong with how powerfully he affected me. It couldn’t possibly be psychologically healthy for me to think about leaping on him within seconds of his approach or to want to cling to him like a cheap Spandex suit. I’d gotten better at reining in my impulses, but it was still a struggle.

  Nobody should have a face that gorgeous. Or eyes so magnetic. Or a body so enticing. It just wasn’t... normal.

  Right, Kismet. He’s a vampire — as if anything about him could ever be normal.

  He slid his hands up and down my arms, then stroked my hips through the soft, form-fitting fabric of my dress and moaned softly. His tongue flicked along my neck and I lifted my chin to give him better access to his favorite pulsing vein. Allowing Devereux to drink my blood while we have sex pushes my orgasm into the stratosphere. I shivered, acting like a shameless addict, jonesing for the sharp needle-points of his teeth to pierce my skin and provide the fix I craved.

  Instead of biting, he just nibbled gently, then let go.

  I groaned in disappointment.

  He whispered against my ear, “I love how you desire me. I can feel your need.”

  I could feel his... need... too, pressing against me.

  Shouldn’t I be annoyed by his ego, his arrogant assumption that I want him? The fact that it’s true is beside the point, isn’t it? I think I’m going to need to sit down soon. Or maybe lie down. Yeah, lying down would be much better.

  “Look at me, Kismet,” he whispered.

  Geez. What is it with that voice?

  “Look at you? Nope, that’s always trouble. I think I’ll just stay right where I am, rubbing myself against your throbbing manhood, as they used to say in romance novels.”

  “My throbbing manhood?”

  Something about the way he’d said those words, with his old-fashioned manner of speaking and his European accent, made me laugh — in fact, I laughed so hard that he gasped as I vibrated against his erection. Since he rarely sucked in oxygen on purpose, much less allowed anyone to catch him by surprise, I was intrigued. I simply had to look at him.

  I turned, and the view was worth the trip.

  He’d tilted his head back, closed his eyes and parted his lips just enough so that the tips of his fangs glistened. His beautiful light blond hair flowed down his chest, soft and touchable. He was dressed in his usual snug black leather pants, and a vibrant blue silk T-shirt clung to his well-toned body, displaying it to perfection.

  I studied him, my heart pounding in lustful anticipation. He truly was an unusually beautiful man. He opened his eyes, and I felt myself falling, almost as if the carpet I’d been standing on had liquefied, and I sank into a blue-green universe. I’d never been totally sure what color his eyes were. What’s the difference between turquoise and aqua, anyway? Obviously arousal brought out the best in his devilish orbs, because they sparkled like gemstones. Or maybe it was a vampire thing. He gave a slow blink and a wicked smile quirked his lips. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me close for a kiss.

  Without any more hesitation I looped my arms around his neck, fitted my body tightly against his and kissed him back. His mouth was wonderful. As he teased his tongue through my lips I opened for him, inviting him to take more. Regardless of any doubts I might have about my relationship with Devereux, our sexual chemistry was never in question.

  Part of me was lost in the delicious things his tongue was doing, but another part noticed the fact that we were standing in front of the window for all of Denver to see, and as soon as I thought that, I broke the kiss and nodded toward the glass. “Maybe we should take our reunion somewhere more private,” I suggested.

  “Yes. Privacy. I totally agree.”

  The office suite consisted of several rooms, one of which was a bedroom. Clients would never know what was behind that door, but Devereux and I had made ample use of it since I moved in, and I knew just what he had in mind when he scooped me up into his arms.

  He thought us into the bedroom. Moving through thought used to jar my equilibrium, but now I found it energizing. For some reason, I’d had far more difficulty believing bodies could shift through time and space than acknowledging the surreal fact that the world was populated with horror-movie creatures. Thinking of it, I really did have to give my brain credit for learning to deal with the impossible on a daily basis.

  Lighting the candles scattered throughout the area with his mind, he deposited me onto the large bed, which was covered with a white silk comforter. I sighed with pleasure as my body relaxed into the soft cloud of fabric.

  Oozing sexuality, Devereux stood next to the bed, staring at me. He tugged his T-shirt over his head in one smooth motion, leaving his pale chest bare except for the unique medallion he often wore. The necklace appeared ordinary enough, but I’d seen it flare like a beacon. I didn’t care what tricks it could perform, though. I was more interested in the muscular body it was nestled against.

  I thought about the near-true-death experiences he’d had since I met him, though he never mentioned them, and something in my expression must have drawn his attention, because he cocked his head and smiled.

  “Even without the ability to read your mind, it is easy to interpret the expression on your face, my love. You need not worry about me. I have fully recovered, and am stronger for all my challenges.” He slid his hand down the flat plane of his stomach and popped open the button on his pants. “Let me prove it to you.”

  Various parts of my body grinned, jumped up and down, and yelled, “Yippee!” The rest of me held my breath, reaching for the mental popcorn.

  He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and guided the leather down his legs. His long platinum hair fell forward like a silky curtain, and I had a sudden urge to grab that curtain and pull him down on top of me, but I resisted. It was much more fun watching him disrobe and crawl onto the bed. Much more arousing.

  His naked form definitely qualified as eye-candy: long and lean, with muscles in all the right places. He was always comfortable in his own skin, so at ease with his nudity. I guess it was to be expected that he’d enjoy it after all the centuries he’d inhabited that skin.

  “Eternity as a sex object. What man could ask for more?
” I put my thoughts into words.

  “I am interested in being a sex object only for you,” he said as he lay on his side and stretched out next to me. He braced his head with one hand and smiled, watching me. Then he trailed a finger across my lips. “You are wearing entirely too many clothes. What might we do to correct that situation?”

  Bursting with ideas, I rolled toward him and let my gaze slide down his body, allowing my eyes to take detours in order to appreciate the natural wonders along the route. One monument in particular stood out from the scenery and my hand reached over to explore.

  Devereux groaned. There simply was nothing like a lusty Devereux groan. His voice was always enticing and magical, but the erotic sensuality he layered into that deep, growling sound sent waves of pleasure through my body, hardened my nipples and caused moisture to pool in my nether regions, it was so good.

  I tightened my fingers around his erection, then slowly released my grip. “I know just what to do with all these clothes,” I whispered. I kicked off my shoes and heard them land on the lush carpet. Then, pretending to be a stripper popping out of a cake, I sprang to my feet on the bed, peeled the soft dress over my head and tossed it onto the floor. Next went my black lace bra and matching panties. I bounced up and down on the mattress a couple of times, just for the fun of it — causing the bloodsucking hunk at my feet to bark out a laugh — then threw myself down on my back. Smiling, I fitted my naked body against his. “So, where were we?”

  His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Let me see if I remember.” He smoothed the palm of his hand over my breast and pinched my painfully hard nipple, then he leaned in, caught my lower lip between his teeth and descended fangs and gave me a playful nip.

  I gasped and he pulled away, probably thinking he’d hurt me, so to show him the error of his conclusion, I circled his neck with my arms, guided him in closer, pressed my lips to his and eased my tongue into his mouth. I’d been surprised to learn during our first sexual encounter that Devereux loved to have his fangs sucked on, as much as another part of his anatomy. In fact, sliding my tongue up and down his canines had much the same effect as what I planned to do next.

  I started to slide my fingers down toward the hardness pushing against my stomach when he captured my hands, raised them over my head and climbed on top of me.

  He used his legs to nudge mine apart and with no more foreplay, slid deep inside, and I moaned. Oh, yeah. That’s a good plan, too.

  He lifted his mouth just enough to mumble, “I have missed you these last few days. I hate it when I must be away, but it cannot be helped. All I could think about was this — filling you, having you wrap your legs around me while I make love to you. Listening to your heartbeat. Possessing you.” He lowered his lips back to mine.

  Whoa. That was pretty much all I could think about at that moment as well.

  His wish came true as his thrusts grew more vigorous, and I tightened my legs around his hips and took him as deep as I could. Within seconds, a delicious orgasm built and I felt his subtle contractions as he approached his own edge.

  Giving another marvelous groan, he broke the kiss and whispered, “Will you give me your blood, my love?”

  “Definitely yes,” I mumbled, turning my head so he could lick the welcoming vein in my neck.

  Geez — what is it about that question? Why does it always melt me into a puddle of hormonal goo?

  He angled his head, kissed his way down my exposed throat and gently pushed the tips of his fangs through my skin. His soft hair flowed across my breasts and we both moaned.

  Having him thrust inside me while sucking blood from my neck was the most extraordinary feeling, and wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through my body. The sense of being separate dissolved and we became one being, completely merged, soul to soul, each experiencing the other’s arousal and release. Vampire sex with Devereux was an off-the-chart thrill.

  I screamed as my body spasmed in bliss, my muscles contracting around his erection as he came, too. After a few seconds more he lifted his mouth from my vein, slid his tongue over the tiny holes to stop the bleeding and brought his lips back to mine.

  Tasting my own blood on his lips had become exciting — intimate. I’d grown accustomed to the flavor, and even wondered occasionally what it would be like to sample his on purpose. Of course, I wouldn’t do that. The elders had warned me about drinking Devereux’s blood. They said that because I had tasted it during a protection ritual, now they couldn’t just cast a spell on me to protect my brain. So I certainly didn’t want to complicate my life any more than it already was. And even though Devereux had assured me that the process of becoming a vampire was much more intricate than portrayed in books or movies, I didn’t want to take any chances.

  How could I possibly exist without margaritas or chocolate?

  Sensing him staring at me, I opened my eyes.

  He raised his head, slid his tongue over his upper lip and smiled down at me. “I apologize for being so impatient, for leaving out the delightful foreplay, as you call it, but I simply could not restrain myself.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll forgive you this time.” I pretended to be serious. “Although I wouldn’t want you to get into the habit of ignoring the appetizer in favor of the entrée.” Devereux definitely gave good appetizer.

  “Not to throw cold water on this tender moment,” I said, “but you’re getting a little heavy there, Fabio. Do you think you could scoot that delicious body of yours over a little so I can breathe? Some of us don’t have the choice of whether to suck in air or not, you know.” Calling him Fabio was a little joke between us. He didn’t really resemble the aging cover model but he understood what I meant by the reference.

  In the blink of an eye, he was lying next to me. “How careless of me. I would not want to suffocate the love of my life.”

  “The love of your life?” I turned to him. “That’s an odd thing for a vampire to say, isn’t it, since you’re not really alive in the normal sense of the word?”

  He frowned. “Are you still troubled by the state of my existence? Is that why you will not accept your role as my mate and take your place in my world?”

  Here we go again. Shit. I pressed my lips together.

  “I do not wish to upset you with these discussions,” he continued, “but we must resolve this issue.”

  “Why?” I sat up. “Why is it even an issue? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He shifted his body to sit in front of me. “It is not a matter of that. The truth is that I am still attempting to understand your importance to me. The urge to bond with you is great, but the explanations elude me.”

  “Bond with me? What the hell does that mean? You haven’t mentioned that before.”

  “No, you are correct. I have not expressed it in those exact words, but I have spoken of our deep connection and our destiny.”

  “Wait.” I wagged my finger at him. “Are you talking about the portrait of me — one you claim to have painted eight centuries ago? That’s what you’re basing all this on?”

  Okay, I do believe he had a psychic vision of me eight hundred years ago and he painted a portrait where I wore the blue silk blouse I’ve owned less than a year, but I’m making a point here...

  “My claim?” His frown deepened and he raised his chin. “As if I am not telling the truth?” He glared at me, his eyes darkening. “The painting is part of it. I have since gone back in time to explore the lifetime you and I shared prior to that—”

  “What?” My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Are you talking about reincarnation? You’ve got to be kidding.” Oh, please! Time-out on the weirdness. “There’s no scientific proof of any such thing—”

  “Yes,” anger heated his voice as he interrupted me, “just as there is no proof for the existence of vampires, yet anecdotal evidence has apparently been enough to convince you of that reality.” He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his chest. “I am proof that there are more things than your science can underst
and.”

  He had me there, but I wasn’t interested in being logical. He’d had eight hundred years to accept all the mind-bending information he’d thrust upon me during the past five months. My brain hadn’t finished processing all I’d already discovered, and there he was, adding more straws to the camel’s back. The camel was getting pissed off.

  Taking a long, slow breath to calm myself, I withdrew my hand from his chest. I didn’t want to have the same old argument with him, but I was determined to stand my ground. My recently acquired ability to sense his emotions was both a blessing and a curse. It was easy to get distracted by what I knew, if it contradicted what he said. In this case, his heated words masked dread.

  Why does this topic upset him so much?

  “Okay.” I locked eyes with him and kept my voice dispassionate. “I’ll concede the possibility of reincarnation, and anything else you’ve got tucked away in your supernatural bag of tricks, but you’ve got to stop pushing me. You’re trying to force me to accept a role that I’ve had no part in creating, and it’s my decision to make. I understand that you’ve been around forever and you’re used to calling the shots, but I’m not one of your minions. I’m not a handmaiden to the Master. I know things were different when you were human, but in my world, a woman isn’t property. I’m a professional. I’m my own person, and I intend to remain so. Is that something you can, er, live with?”

  His expression went flat, as if all his feelings had been swept under a mental rug. “It was truly never my intention to bully you in any way. Nothing is more important to me than being with you.” His eyes softened and he slid his finger across my cheek, nudging a stray hair. “You are absolutely correct, I am used to giving orders and expecting obedience. It is only recently that I have come to realize that might not be an effective way to create a modern relationship.” He paused as an expression of sadness shadowed his face. “Often, it is like I have existed forever, and forever can be a very long, lonely time. I give you my word that I will work hard to join the twenty-first century.”