His Redeemer's Kiss

by Diana Castilleja

  “I want it all,” he breathed into her thoughts, even as he held her protectively on his lap, sharing the make-believe dream with her. She shivered, but not in fear or revulsion, but in wonder. He heard the sharp rise and fall of her breathing, the swift intake of surprise as he continued with his seduction.

  With tender hands, he removed the light dress he imagined her in, sweeping it over her head, baring her like a fiery headed goddess to his view. Her body was perfection. Firm breasts filled the touch of his palm, sleek legs he craved to feel wrapped around his waist. Cinnamon curls covered her sweetest treasure. He knew her taste. She would be as sweet as she was everywhere else. He swallowed, barely able to restrain himself, even in the shared dream. This was for her, her pleasure, her enjoyment. To share without fear.

  There was no logic in how deeply he wanted this to be real. He nuzzled her closer in his arms, pushing his limits with the dream seduction, sharing his every touch, his every caress, through the images in his mind.

  Gentle hands slid up her body, against the bared skin he envisioned, pulling her tighter until she pressed with seductive heat against his chest, skin to skin. He felt aflame from the heat of her body pressed against his, from just the image. He shuddered, realizing the real thing could very well set him ablaze with heat unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  His lips flowed over her shoulder to the pulse of her throat, kissing her there, thanking any god he could think of for the beauty of endless courage beneath his traveling lips. A shudder shook the woman in his arms, the one he held and the one he seduced. She was as entrenched in the fantasy seduction as he was. There wasn’t a whisper of fear, only anticipation and need swelling and swirling around the pair.

  With intent filled motions, he drifted lower, caressing the gentle slope of her breast with a seeking tongue, trailing a damp path over their flush softness. Her fingers delved into his hair, holding him tighter, her fingertips massaging his scalp in encouragement. Then, he lapped at a taut, rosebud peak and she gasped, arching and writhing, a breathy moan slipping from her, a sound that ignited him even more. Before he could tell himself it was going too far, he took that hardened nub between his lips, enjoying the feel of her full breast as he worked his tongue over her flesh, sweeping to draw her deeper, then lightly letting her free to repeat the torture. Her head fell back, lost in a sea of brilliant sensations.

  A low growl escaped from between his lips as he suckled and tasted her sweetness on his tongue. He wasn’t even sure which ‘he’ had made it as deep as he was in his own fantasy. Her body beckoned to him and he had to obey.

  “I want you Joaquin,” she panted against his throat. Everything within him froze.

  That wasn’t the Lily of his mirage dream who had spoken.

  The dream vanished in a cold slap of shock. He shook everywhere with repressed desire racing through him like a volcanic river.

  He pushed it all down with a vicious hand of control. “I’m sorry, lovely. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” God, how he ached. What had he done? He’d lost sight of what he’d intended with the sharing. He buried himself against her, fighting for that thread of control he always had when he was around Lily.

  Gentle fingers slid from his hair, following his cheek, holding him. Her voice floated across his ear. “I want you, Joaquin. I know what I’m saying. I wanted it before, but my fears and my past were still able to confuse me. Not now.”

  The gaze he found when he finally dared to open his eyes speared him through. Joaquin stilled, searching the fiery vixen in his arms. He wanted her. He wanted her the way she was, lying so trustingly in his arms, lost in passion. He wanted all of her.

  “Belong to me,” he told her before he could call back the words.

  She lifted up passion soaked eyes to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

  He stood, not answering, urging her to stand with him, desperate to tear the words out of the air. “We need to return.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him at his abrupt change of direction. He shut his thoughts to her gentle prying. How could he explain it when he didn’t know what he meant by it either? Those uttered words had been nothing less than the admittance of his greatest failing—wanting her too much. He couldn’t have her, yet the wanting, the hunger he felt for her didn’t lessen in the least.

  “How is your shoulder?” she asked him.

  “Healing. Hang on,” he answered, bringing her closer her as she buried herself into his chest. He rose from the pavement of the alley without a sound.

  For a second night, he set her on her feet near the front door, battling with what he had done, with what he wanted, and cursing what he knew he couldn’t have.

  “Joaquin.” Her voice reached out, reached up to him, and he searched her face. “Yes.”

  Tumbled thoughts roared and rippled. “Yes?” He watched in fascinated wonder as the tip of her tongue curled over her lip, leaving a moistened trail behind.

  “I want to be yours.”

  “The bond?” The chill of the meaning dragged down his lusts, but only a little.

  Shame darkened her eyes for a split second, then the woman he knew behind those amazing, expressive eyes warmed beneath his hands. “I was wrong in my reasons. The night I asked, I saw myself after and…” She looked down and he hated losing the wonder and warmth of her attention. Gathering her strength, she went on. “You are not and never will be an escape from my past. I am the woman I am, the one you’ve always seen, the one you’ve never let me hide from. You accepted her long before I did. At that moment, I was hiding, wanting it, but for the wrong reasons. I did want to escape because you make me feel I am worthy. It was an easy escape, and I was wrong. I am worthy. I am that strong woman, the woman they created, true, but beneath, I’m still the woman they never broke,” she told him on a steeled whisper. Her fingers trailed along his skin, brushing over his neck. “I’m not hiding anymore.”

  He had accepted her because he’d always seen the strength she owned. Knew the compassion she shared selflessly with Tabitha. She was a remarkable woman, a woman who he was honored and humbled to know. Joaquin would always cherish her. The ring of the words burst through him like the bells of St. Anthony’s. The last of his resistance was blown away like the fall of the autumn leaves with a single gust. Quick and unstoppable. With a moan as strong as any wind, he swooped down and claimed her lips. If he was to be lost, then let him be lost with this one woman.

  * * * *

  She sucked in a quick squeal when he scooped her up. She never saw the door open, hardly noticed a thing about the house as he carried her to her room. With a quiet thump, the bedroom door closed behind them and locked them away from the world. It amazed her how quickly his eyes darkened with desire, yet burned so brightly with that same desirous fire at her words. She had no idea what she was going to do with a vampire in her life. Not right this moment. She was willing to hang on and fight for him with both hands, and figure it out later.

  “Lily,” he groaned, the sound torn from him, pained with restraint. “If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go. You deserve more than I can give you. You deserve the life you haven’t yet received.” He cradled her face in his palms, holding her like a delicate creation. She was positive the trembling between them was all hers.

  What kind of a life would she have with him in it? What would she do with a vampire in her life? She didn’t relish the thought of losing him. It hurt imagining him not being a part of her world, vestiges of the last five days showing her the anguish she would be facing without him, alone. She couldn’t imagine letting anyone else touch her, either. Not having Joaquin’s innate ability to soak into her conscience and keep her calm whenever she needed him to be there was frightening. She knew it was him. No one else felt the same. No one else had been able to touch her. It was because of him she was beginning to feel normal again.

  “You don’t understand, Joaquin. I need you,” she explained, feeling empowered that she did know that about herself
. Epiphanies were wonderful things. Because of him, she felt she could move forward. She didn’t want anyone else, either. “I don’t want you to let me go.”

  He stilled as unmoving as a dark statue, his eyes trained on her, an insatiable hunger in them that was blinding in its intensity. The sight of him made her blood pulse with hard ticks against her skin, making her feel electric from the ends of her hair to her fingernails. The rich sound of his voice resonated through the room. It caused her heart to dance to an erratic rhythm for a new reason. “Belong to me, heart and soul and I will provide for you. Give yourself into my care and I will protect you.”

  She didn’t need any time at all to make up her mind. “Yes,” she answered, a needy whisper of longing for only what Joaquin could give her.

  * * * *

  Joaquin found her lips, gently caressing them, trailing his tongue across their fullness. As sweet as the spring breeze, as beautiful as the moon on the rolling seas, she melted against him. He’d never imagined he would feel this way again. Hot and cold. Breathless. Blessed, yet even as he rejoiced in each new discovery, he knew it was as much a curse as the one he’d lived with for centuries. This joy would come with a price.

  He lost the battle to stop, to tear himself away, looking into her eyes and seeing a wanting so deep, she almost brought him to his knees.

  There was more than wanting, deeper in her soul. Something so ageless, between one beat of her thundering heart and the next, he was lost.

  He’d never imagined the fire he felt beneath his fingers when he stroked them through her hair, feeling its warmth wind sensuously over him. Pressing kisses to her lips, he slid his fingers deeper, holding her as closely as he dared, as close as he craved. Supple like a reed in the wind, she accepted him, meeting his passion, dueling with him as he tasted her.

  Slipping from the intoxicating heat of her lips, he suckled adoring kisses to her jaw, licking at fragrant skin. She shivered beneath his touch and he brought her closer in answer, nearly lifting her off the floor with his arms wrapped around her. Sensually addictive, the feeling of her fingers on his body brought his fires raging higher. The silken feeling of her beneath his lips made his heart trip, made it beat unaided by him with a wildness that made him ache.

  The pulse of her heartbeat beneath his touch enticed him. Lifting the heavy fall of her red hair away, he skimmed down the sleek offering of her throat. Shivers vibrated her, traveling from her to him along every inch of touching skin. There was no strength left to resist temptation when he stroked his tongue with a languorous movement over her heavily racing pulse. The shuddering moan that erupted from her stole his sanity. Her fingers clutched at him, digging for purchase as he made their world spin.

  “Belong to me,” he whispered like a dark enchantment into her thoughts. With a gentleness created by his very need for the woman in his hold, he teased her skin with the merest tip of a fang, stroking, seducing. Wanting. Wanting like he’d never wanted before, knowing this time it was for keeps. No argument on the planet held sway at that moment. He’d tried, fought them all. And lost.

  Unlike in the alley, he knew there was no going back. He knew this went deeper than a healing need. Joaquin knew he didn’t deserve the angel in his arms.

  He knew he didn’t have the strength to pull himself away from temptation a third time in one night.

  The urge to claim her, to leave his mark on her, rose up with a fierceness that rocked him stronger than ever when he discovered the pulsating beat of her vein beneath his lips. He’d die if he couldn’t fulfill its demand. His body’s tension coiled as though a cobra had wrapped around his spine. She arched, pressing herself against him, and her moan sounded like a siren’s bewitching song when he finally took what she offered, cursing and hating everything he was when the first taste of her heated essence hit his tongue. “I tried, Lily. Please know I tried to give you the freedom you deserve.” Her heartbeat throbbed in answer and he absorbed her offering like a true gift, from her to him. She writhed, shuddering in his arms when he finally succumbed and instinctively made her his, leaving his mark on her for every other male of their kind to know she was treasured and cherished above all others.

  Looking into her thoughts, her mind was a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, pleasure and a euphoria of sensation careening wildly through her. Affection, trust, arousal; those and more swirled through her thoughts.

  With tender licks, he closed the pin-sized holes in her throat. The love bite would be far more noticeable. He winced when he saw the bruising on her fair skin, but it was done, and he couldn’t find the power to regret it. Floating in that aroused euphoria, he tipped her close, every motion endearing her to him tighter. With a command borne out of his driving need, his shirt ripped away with a sharp tearing sound to hold her flushed against his bare chest.

  “God, how I need you.”

  He moaned at the understatement. This had surpassed mere need. With a single lengthened nail, he flicked a strike against his chest, directly over his heart, watching the first drops form with something raging inside of him, demanding he not stop. Something innate telling him this was right, even when he feared it with every cell of his body.

  “Belong to me. Be mine, forever in my care. I give myself to you, heart and soul.” His voice choked on a quaking gust of air at the first touch of her inquisitive lips. His head snapped back, staring unseeing at the ceiling, seeing nothing but the flashes of euphoric explosions before his eyes. Lightning struck his body to roar down his spine, tearing over his shuddering length with the force of a raging tsunami wave when her tongue flicked with teasing licks, then her mouth formed to suckle the thin slice like she had found a rare candy.

  Rapture. He fell into it, and knew from that moment on, he was lost.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her lips trembled when he tasted their warmth after sealing the slice, drinking in the essence of her soul, of her beauty. And felt the power of something so elemental, so wondrous, he feared he was imagining it.

  How could he care this deeply for another person again? He knew the taste of it, as unique as the warmth of the woman he held, but had never once imagined he’d have the chance. She stood trustingly in his arms and, with the beauty of her soul reaching out to him, he knew there was no illusion to the emotion.

  He slanted, deepening the kiss, thrusting his tongue, delving to find the sweetest nectar. She welcomed him, opening to accept his kiss, meeting him with daring little thrusts of her own, tempting him to the edge of his sanity. Together, they drifted to the bed, his arms around her as he worshipped her lips, nipping and tasting silken skin. With slow movements, his hands drifted down to her stomach, passing over the mounds he desperately wanted to taste on his tongue. Always aware of her every thought, her every doubt, he moved with infinite gentleness, awakening her desires to a pitch he wanted her to live and breathe, through him.

  Unhurried, he lifted her turquoise sweatshirt, drawing it over her shoulders. She dropped her arms to cover her body as soon as they were free. Rising over her, he gifted delicate kisses at her shoulder. “Let me see your beauty,” he coaxed. “Perfection is in the eye of the beholder, and to me, you are perfect.”

  Little by little, she relaxed beneath the traveling of his adoring mouth as he licked across her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. Trailing a hand down one arm, he lifted it from its protective position over her stomach, skimming her with the tips of his fingers. White and mottled scars crisscrossed her body and snaked down her arms. Some were vicious and snarled, thick and obvious reminders of the pain he knew she’d lived through. Others were exact and thin, as though someone had taken a blade to her skin, the kind of wounds that hurt the most for the least amount of effort. Regardless of their creation, they covered her body, leaving not a visible inch unharmed.

  Tenderly, he laid a palm across her abdomen, wishing he could absorb the agony of all of those moments from her body and from her memory. Without warning, exposed to the marks of her imprisonment ful
ly for the first time, the fathomless rage he’d felt when she’d bared the truth of her past consumed him. He closed his eyes and dropped a kiss to her stomach, hiding his turmoil from her as best as he could. The man who had done this would pay. If there was ever a being Joaquin would kill without a qualm, it would be any man who had hurt Lily.

  “It is over, Joaquin.” Her voice floated to him and he realized a single tear had fallen from his eyes to her skin.

  “If I had known, lovely, you would not have suffered.”

  The sensation of her fingers combing through his hair soothed the angry feeling of injustice. “I know.”

  He released a breath, consumed by her compassion and understanding. Before he could give any of the bitter emotions a chance to rise again, he delved into her belly button, and she giggled in reaction. Tension leaked away from them both as he learned her body a caress at a time. Each stroke meant to tease, arouse, pleasure in a way he knew she’d never experienced. She watched him closely when he undid her bra, removing it with the same reverent care he’d done everything else. He didn’t purposely avoid the scars, but they ceased to be a singular area of attention. Not when there was her entire body for him to worship.