His Redeemer's Kiss

by Diana Castilleja

  Silence stretched out. When he finally spoke, it was with a grave finality. “I’ve talked to Diego. It can’t be undone.”

  Curling into a ball, she turned her back to him, sobbing into the blankets beneath her. “I promised I’d never lose control over my life again, Joaquin. I lost so much. So much. I have to be the one to make the decisions. I have to be in control. Otherwise, what am I?”

  “I know, lovely,” he soothed contritely.

  “You stole it from me. You ripped my life from me.”

  He walked to the other side of the bed and climbed up to sit against the headboard, then found her shoulders and pulled her into his body.

  “I hate you,” she bit out. Then hated herself more when she arched into his stroking touch, to give him a better angle. Her body had turned traitor.

  “I love you,” he replied. “I would still live your life and be eternally grateful for the chance, but Lily, this will kill you. I’m sorry I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to die if you don’t have to.”

  She sniffled a little longer, then, “If I become like you? Like Titania?”

  He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek. “Yes. You can still have what you want. You’ll just get to live a lot longer to do it.”

  She snorted, uncaring if she sounded like a stuck pig or not. “Not a great trade-off. All the control I could want, if I suck blood.” She shivered, unable to hide the repulsed reaction.

  “I can help you,” he offered sincerely. “I would take care of you.”

  Damn it! She wanted to rake him over the coals, wanted to flay his ass alive for what he’d done. It wasn’t going to be that easy, though. She was just as guilty. Accepting that, though, didn’t make the bitter truth any easier to handle. “I’m half to blame for this. I told you to do it.” Begged him. She wasn’t so proud of that fact now, but she hadn’t expected to drink his blood. She’d only known, at that point, she couldn’t lose him. She was only a knocked head away from realizing she loved him.

  And still did.

  “Yes and no. Neither of us had much control of the situation.” He was still nuzzling her. “When I held you, it was like my life had started over. All the years before were the path to be here, now. For you. I knew when I did it, I wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

  Kisses were beginning to fall where his cheek had been. Kisses that burned with his need, burned with his own angst and regret. “The need to make it a complete bonding was impossible to fight. I had to do it. It was tearing me apart to make you mine completely and holding back. I belong to you as much as you belong to me.” His tender words were wrapped in the remorse she knew he felt. A deed done that couldn’t be undone. So close to him, no longer hiding from his thoughts, or hiding hers from him, she knew every thought, every punishing recrimination he’d called himself, and likely more that she couldn’t find. “If you don’t, then I will die with you.”

  She snapped up to gape at him. “Why?”

  Midnight dark, his eyes were limpid pools and, looking into them, she found herself reflected back. “Because everything I am will die with you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You don’t have long before your body will begin to suffer. Another day, maybe two.” He wasn’t going to let her die. She may be undecided, or think she had a choice. He regretted with every bone in his body he’d already made the choice for her, for the both of them. She may even hate him more before it was all done. It wasn’t an easy way to live, or not live, depending on who he asked. He couldn’t let her go. He was selfish. A bastard. He wasn’t going to let her die. He would prefer her to accept what had happened, but if she didn’t, then so be it.

  “What about Tabitha?”

  There wasn’t any surprise that her next worry would be for the other woman. Lily had been putting a lot of her own issues purposely somewhere far away so she could care for her. Now it was time he cared for Lily.

  He ran his fingers through her wavy hair, unable to not touch her. He had to have her in his hands, feel her on his skin. Drawing a slow breath, he drew the lingering scent of cinnamon into his lungs. “You will still be able to care for her, the same as you have. I wouldn’t take you away from her. I will provide for you and keep you safe.”

  He knew what he was asking of her. He had once been human. A man with a world, a wife, a life. He also knew her fears weren’t going to be enough to stop him. They were real; he wouldn’t belittle them or her, but fears could be tackled, banished. She was strength personified. He doubted she would ever cease to amaze him. Which is why he knew she would survive. Lily wasn’t the kind of being to give in when things got tough.

  Sliding down onto the bed, she followed, albeit stiffly and not entirely convinced. “Trust me, lovely.” He whispered into her hair, dropping kisses wherever he found a place. There were a lot of places.

  “I can’t do it,” she whimpered, shivering, abhorrent to the very idea. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to rest on his shoulder.

  “When it becomes the difference between life and death, the human body and mind can overcome almost anything,” he replied. Brushing her hair away from her face, he found her eyes were closed. “I didn’t have the benefit of a teacher when it happened to me. I was left to fend for myself. No one to show me the way. I won’t let that happen to you, Lily. Titania is also here. Maybe talking to her would help?”

  “Why is this even happening, though?” Her hand slid across his body, pulling her tighter against his frame, seeking comfort, seeking solidity in a rapidly changing world. His hold tightened, relishing the length of her against him, pouring out any reassurance she may need unselfishly.

  “I don’t know. Diego is just as puzzled. This has never happened within the Brethren.”

  “Brethren? The society of vampires as a whole? This has never happened?” Disbelief echoed in Lily’s voice.

  “No. Not with so many of us finding each other whole and sane, and then finding you. Two pieces to a puzzle we are just beginning to see.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He shrugged. “None of us know. There is something happening, though. We are being drawn together, even if it is only by accident.”

  Joaquin knew she was thinking. “What if you are, but aren’t, Brethren?”

  “How do you mean?”

  She lifted to rest her chin on the back of her hand, cushioned on his shoulder. “Well. You were created the same, but something in all of you kept you from going off the deep end. Even Nathan has been able to hold on. He’s young, but determined. Then Diego found Tani. Somehow, I haven’t staked you yet.”

  “Low blow, my dear.” He tugged lovingly at the ends of her hair.

  She shot him a withering stare. “I owe you one, or twelve.” He would have sighed if it would have helped. She hadn’t forgiven him yet.

  Taking the prudent path, he didn’t remark on that. “So, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I want to talk to Tani and Diego. Get their impression on all of this.”

  “Lily.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “There isn’t any way to reverse it.” He knew he’d hit a point when she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You don’t know that.” She turned away from him, but didn’t move off his shoulder.

  “Lily.” He tipped her face up with a finger beneath her chin to look into her eyes. What he saw was a world of pain he’d caused. “I’m sorry.”

  Reaching down, he pressed his lips to hers, feeling the way they trembled and quivered even as he warmed them with his touch. Lingering over the softness of her lips, he fed his hand into thick sunset hair, relishing the weight of it against his hand. He didn’t want to fight anymore, not tonight. He didn’t want her anger.

  With a gentle push, he rolled her beneath him and braced his hands on either side of her face, lowering to drop butterfly kisses on alluring skin. Tonight, he wanted the woman who owned the fire her hair warned the world of, wanted the strength behind those sea-toss
ed, golden-as-sand eyes. Craved the passion in her hands.

  “No more, lovely. Not tonight,” he whispered against her mouth, licking at her lips like she was the embodiment of the cinnamon confection he’d described to her. There was more than one way to win an argument. Or simply, not allow it to happen.

  This was a much better use of their time altogether.

  “I haven’t forgiven you,” she warned him even as her lips answered his.

  “I know.” Then, he didn’t let her say another word. Her hands felt like brands as they slid up over his shoulders to twine through his hair. Her skin was like a delicacy, to be enjoyed one thorough sip at a time. The scents he found warmed his blood as he inhaled beneath her ear. She shivered in answer. The reaction made the ache under his skin double. Made him crave her and her taste as though she were the sweetest wine. “You are perfection.” He blew a light stream over her ear and she quaked deliciously.

  Rising over her, he held himself still, sliding the first button free on her shirt. He swirled his tongue over the exposed gift of skin. All along his body he throbbed, pulsed, hungered. Another button slipped free and the rise and fall of the tops of her breasts drew his attention to their softness. He couldn’t resist the playground, licking over exposed, flushed skin. She gasped as he delved between them, tasting the valley of flesh. With deliberate motions, he slowly released each button, letting the fabric of the cream shirt gradually gape open with a teasing view. She’d never wear another one of those of nondescript sweatshirts around him again.

  Every time he looked upon her, all he could think was how lucky he was, how beautiful she was to him. Running his fingers up over her stomach, he inched over her ribs, feeling the way she trembled beneath his touch. It only took a quick twist of his finger to slice the lace of her bra with an elongated nail. He groaned as her breasts fell free. The cherry tips peaked in the cooler air.

  “You drive me wild,” he told her before he drew a taut nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, tasting her. She moaned, arching into his pulls. He answered with a harsh groan when her fingers kneaded against him. Claiming her, he hooked a leg over hers, leaning on a hip, caging her beneath his weight. Her feminine curves fit into him as though she were made for him. He didn’t try to hide his arousal, the turgid length pressing into her hip like a hot brand. He wanted her to know how she affected him. Wanted her to know he couldn’t live without her, without her touch, without her voice. He doubled his efforts, moving to the breast being warmed in his palm. Her entire body shuddered in pleasure.

  Fire pulsed in his blood, under his skin, heating his hunger to greater heights. Quiet whimpers and gasps escaped her with each new exploration of her body. The feel of her fingers mimicking him on his own shirt made him lift but only an inch or two. Shivers rocked his chest as the protection of his shirt gave way. Then, it was his body being explored, touched, tasted.

  The unexpected bite of her nails running over his chest made his head snap on his neck in rapture, fire and lightning raging like a wild tempest within the depths of his soul. She shoved the shirt clear of his shoulders and he shrugged it off, throwing it behind his shoulder. Her fingers splayed, hungrily drawing patterns against his skin. Her lips beckoned to him and he worshiped them.

  Shudders racked his body as the sensations of her nails running gently over his nipples hardened them, sending arcs of desire soaring through his body with each touch. A lightning bolt that singed nerves and skin alike. Delving between her lips, she met his thrusts, teasing him with a passionate mating.

  Catching her bottom lip between his teeth, he growled once, a low, possessive sound. Dropping a final kiss on her sweet mouth, he slid down her body, his tongue leaving a trail that burned, the same way he burned for her. The catch on her jeans was less than a thought and he pulled them off as he lowered, removing everything with impatient tugs. Then, she lay before him, and his desire reached new heights.

  Kneeling beside the bed, he brought her to him and drew her knees over his shoulders. There was no hesitation this time, only a single-minded purpose. Her pleasure. She quivered with anticipation, not fear; with wanting, not worry. Nipping the soft flesh of her inner thigh brought forth a light squeal and he grinned. “Ah, lovely,” he breathed, finding the scent of her essence permeating the air between their bodies. Overcome with a deep surge of wanting, he couldn’t contain the lusting shake of his own body.

  Then, he touched her with his lips and she cried out, tension rocketing up and down her body on the tail of the pleasure comet he’d released. Moisture pearled on her skin. Sliding along plump, feminine folds, it soon coated his tongue where he lapped. Licking his lips, he savored every drop of the sweet juice of her ecstasy. Finding the taut nub of nerves, he suckled on it and her body jerked. Every nerve was tuned to her, every need was seeking her, plummeting them both into a maelstrom of rapture. She came apart with a sparkled joy beneath the onslaught of his mouth.

  With a lasting, moaning cry fading into the room, he stood. Destroying the last barriers of clothing, he lifted her in steady hands, finding his heaven within her arms, surrounded by her body. Thrusting deep, he took them both over the edge of sanity.

  There was no other moment in time. Everything around them stopped. There was nothing outside of that room, nothing beyond those walls that mattered. And there was no other woman for him. He would forever crave the fiery woman in his arms. The passionate creature who stoked his own fires, his own passions, to a place he couldn’t remember and dared with his very soul to embrace. Feeling her heated skin sliding against his sent shots of electricity into every nerve.

  Clutching her firmly in strong palms, he sent them careening into that wild pleasure. Her uninhibited cries filled the silence of the room. Shafts of moonlight sliced the darkness into a rainbow of glitter, glistening off of her creamy skin as though she were an angel from heaven. He was mesmerized by the beauty of her body, illuminated so lovingly in those white moonbeams.

  That was when he accepted there was no option. Stubborn or not, hate him or not, he wasn’t going to let her die. The conversion was her only chance, their only choice.

  Like lighting a fuse from a bonfire, he felt his body winding tighter and tighter, striving for utter completion when he felt her explode all around him. Rearing back, he filled her one last time, arching as he plummeted to his own release.

  * * * *

  He couldn’t stop touching her. It didn’t matter that they’d enjoyed each other with cataclysmic results; he wanted her again. His body throbbed with it. He wondered if this same urgency would follow them after the conversion, waking next to each other, sharing the skies of glittering stars like a private midnight showcase. What if it increased? Was that even possible? The very idea made his heart thunder against his ribs. Because he wanted her like his last wish on earth as it was.

  The memory of her body lying so sweetly next to his when he’d awakened told him it was very possible. He’d awakened to find his body already craving, his lips already wanting to take every whimpered moan from hers.

  Wandering fingertips stroked her side, her body rising and falling in languorous relaxation. He could still taste the heady honey of her pleasure on his lips. Her body was ripe with pleasure, and he ached to pick the fruit.

  “Why are you looking at me like you want to eat me, big bad wolf?” she teased him in a throaty purr. Tulip pink lips curved upward and her eyes glittered with humor when they found his.

  “Because I do.” He drew near to nip her shoulder to prove his point.

  Laughter, rich and playful, was made sexier by the smile on her lips. “You need to work on your poker face. The idea is not to be so obvious.”

  Joaquin arched a brow. “Really? But why would I want to do that when it is the truth?”

  Her laughter deepened, then she stretched her arms overhead and relaxed, leaving him a splayed playground to explore and enjoy. The sound of laughter slowly died and her eyes became watchful, studying his movements. He c
ouldn’t seem to stop touching her. He didn’t want to.

  “You really don’t see them, do you?” she asked a little wondrously.

  “See them?”

  She gave him an irritated look. “Don’t be obtuse. I know you aren’t like that.” She propped herself on her elbows. “The scars.” Loathing etched her face when she looked down the length of her body. “I’m a walking roadmap.”

  He lowered and kissed her stomach. “Ask me if I care about the color of your hair, or these adorable freckles you have.” He lapped over a few that were strung like a comet’s tail beneath one breast, causing her body to squirm. “One is natural, one is not. I understand that. Others may not see what I see. The beauty of you. I don’t care about what they can’t see.”