Blakewood

by Sable Grey

  “No, don’t. I won’t tell a soul.” His voice sounded deeper, and he placed his hands on either side of the door. “Turn around. Let me see all of you.”

  Heart thumping, I tossed the gown to a chair. Stepping to the middle of the room, I turned in a slow circle, feeling very self-conscious. I immediately thought of Claudia. He went to her to feed and they were intimate. He must have chosen her because she was the kind of woman he liked. My breasts were nowhere nearly as large as hers. And my hips were not rounded as hers were. When I faced him again, he looked like he might leap through the door. But he couldn’t, I reminded myself. I took several steps forward so that I stood directly in front him.

  He inhaled deeply. “Invite me in.”

  I smiled. Perhaps he was one of those men who didn’t really care what a woman looked like. Maybe he liked all kinds of shapes and sizes. I suddenly felt bold and powerful.

  “No.”

  The sound from his throat was half groan, half growl, and it sent shivers down my spine and heat right into my abdomen. I slid a hand across my stomach and saw his entire body tense, his attention on my fingers. Slowly, I brought my hand up and touched my breast. His gaze darted to mine, and he inclined his head.

  I licked my lips and ran my palm over the hardened tip then beneath to cup what little I had. Having him watch me was both agonizing and exciting. Slowly, I caressed and stroked myself, moving from one breast to the other, enjoying the way his gaze followed my every move.

  Brazenly, I dragged my hand back down to my stomach and then lower against the curls at the apex of my thighs. His nostril flared, and I smiled when he made that noise in his throat again. I closed my eyes when my fingers met my sensitive flesh. I slid my palm back and forth, enjoying the sensations that bloomed beneath my ministrations then, opening my eyes, I slid my middle finger into myself, rocking my palm over my sex. Hot tension coiled slowly as I moved my fingers in and out for him.

  “I can smell you,” he said on a long exhaled breath.

  I wanted his hands on me. Just the thought of him touching me made the ache that had begun to throb within me grow stronger. I brought my free hand back to my breast, imagining him slowly undressing so I could look at him as he’d looked at me.

  “Take off your shirt,” I whispered. For a moment, he didn’t move. He straightened and, without touching the buttons, jerked the garment from the collar down, sending those buttons flying as the material tore away as if it were nothing at all. Without waiting for me to say the words, he glanced up and down the hallway, quickly undressed, and then kicked his clothes to the side against the wall.

  Smooth skin pulled taut over lean muscle, I took a moment to appreciate his physique. My gaze dropped to the hard stalk jutting out from a nest of his dark hair and heat rushed from my chest into my sex. I hummed at the sensation and brought my attention back to his face.

  “Invite me in.”

  I rocked against my palm as my breath quickened. “Please,” I panted. It was enough.

  He moved quickly, stepping inside and kicking the door behind him as he reached for me. One hand snaked around my waist and pulled me forward while the other jerked my hand from between my thighs. He brought my fingers to his mouth and sucked at the tips where I was certain he could taste the slick juices from my sex.

  He pulled me closer until our bodies pressed against one another. His skin was hot on mine, and I shook with anticipation. Slowly, eyes on me, mouth on my fingers, he began walking me backwards until the back of my legs bumped the bed. I slid onto the blankets, and he settled atop me. For that split moment, fear found me. I’d never lain with a man before. And he wasn’t just a man. He was a vampire.

  “No,” he whispered, “don’t look at me like that. Don’t be afraid.” He leaned forward and kissed me. The moment his mouth covered mine, I forgot my fear. Our tongues met and danced as he slipped a hand between us. His finger sought and found the spot that burned for attention, and he began stroking me to the same rhythm that his tongue caressed mine.

  He released my lips when I my breathing quickened. Tension pulled tight inside me, and I hummed in anticipation of the release I knew was building. The muscles of my abdomen tightened, and I panted. He shifted and his finger slid away. I moaned in protest, but a moment later his tongue found my sensitive bud, and I slid up on my elbows, staring at the dark hair of the top of his head. His lips parted over me, and I fell back to the bed when he sucked.

  Dark pleasure unraveled and tore through me. I cried out, arching my hips up until my body shook. As I slowly lowered back to the bed, he rose above me and settled between my legs, the head of his member bumping my sex.

  “It will hurt at first,” he said, and I was reminded of the description he’d given of feeding.

  “I know.” I pulled at his arms with shaking hands.

  He pushed into me gently, stretching me slowly. He groaned lowly and pulled back, then pushed again. Leaning forward, he kissed me then pulled back again. This time, he drove quick and hard into me. White hot pain caused me to cry out against his mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against my lips. The pain had subsided and was slowly ebbing into a feeling of fullness that wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I could feel him there inside of me, the length of him filling me as if our bodies were made for one another.

  He rose above me, weight on his arms on either side of me, watching my face and, when he saw that I no longer hurt, he began stroking in and out of me. I’d feared I might not know what to do but, instinctively, I pulled my knees up to his hips.

  “You feel good.” He thrust deeply and my breath caught as hot shivers raced over my skin. I was surprised to feel my body responding to his. I found myself lifting my hips to meet his downward thrusts. His rhythm quickened and my breath caught as heat built inside of me. It was different than the pleasure I felt before, not as frenzied, but rather a gradual climb to something more. I moaned and when his hips jerked against mine faster, I slid one hand around his waist, dragging my nails across his skin. He inhaled sharply, but continued his steady rhythm.

  “Leander,” I whispered, realizing he wasn’t giving in to the building tension. Surely, he felt it too! I wanted more. “Leander, please.”

  His breathing changed then, and he made guttural sounds in his throat as he thrust deep. His body moved against mine in a fever, one arm sliding beneath me to lift me to him. I wrapped my legs around him as I drew closer to that dark pleasure I knew was waiting for me. I began to whimper with need, and then those whimpers became cries. When the tension broke and pleasure thundered to me, I screamed. I couldn’t help it as the sensation was so intense. I shook from it, wrapped my arms around him, and held on as my whole body trembled.

  The seconds seemed to stop and then quickly speed up again as I drifted back down into my senses. It was then he thrust deeply with a shout of his own, muscles taut, teeth bared. Wet heat filled me. His hips jerked against me as if by their own will several times before he fell forward, his heavy breath hot against my shoulder.

  “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” I said after a few seconds. “Had I known it would be like that, I wouldn’t have waited so long to do it.”

  He chuckled and pressed his lips to my shoulder. “It would have made it much easier on me if you had.”

  I stiffened. I remember when he’d sounded so strange before, when his words came out mumbled. He straightened, and I could see that even though his eyes were not blacked out, his canines had indeed extended.

  “It’s the smell of you,” he explained, “of your blood.” He pulled from within me, and I saw his eyes grow darker, but he moved from atop me and climbed from the bed to pour himself some water from the pitcher across the room. I sat up and scooted back, my gaze dropping to the evidence of my lost virginity then I looked back at him.

  “But you said you fed.”

  “I did.” He took another drink as he faced me. “Not to worry, you are safe for a few more hours at least.
” His eyes glittered over the rim of the cup, and I realized he was teasing me.

  “I apologize for not understanding how vampires work.” I reached for my gown, but in the blink of an eye, he was beside me, setting the cup on the table beside the bed with one hand and touching my wrist with his other.

  “Don’t cover up. Not just yet.”

  I smiled, grateful now that his teeth were normal again, and lay back on the bed. He slid next to me, his hand brushing over my stomach. He propped his head up on his other hand so he could look at me.

  “I had a dream the other night about you,” I said after a moment of watching him trace circles around my navel. “I’ll tell you if you promise not to repeat it to anyone.”

  “I’ll keep all of your little secrets,” he vowed.

  “I dreamed you were playing the piano, and I was lying across the top of it, naked.” My cheeks warmed when he laughed. “You aren’t supposed to laugh at me.”

  “I’m not.” He gave me a solemn look. “What song was I playing?”

  “The one that you played before when you recited the sonnet.” I smiled when he laughed again.

  “And what happened next?” he failed miserably at not grinning.

  “I said something to you, and you made love to me.”

  He didn’t laugh this time. “What did you say?”

  I recited the last two lines of the sonnet. “'Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss'.” For a moment, he only gazed at me, then leaned forward and caught my mouth with his.

  PART TWO

  Chapter Eleven

  I stood at the library window looking out, much more attentive to my nephew’s governess who was laughing at his antics than I was Beatrice Loman as she went through her list of items to purchase in London the following day. Elizabeth Mason had proven a surprise in many ways. She was not a staid, matronly governess. She was stunningly beautiful. Tall and thin, but more importantly, she was interesting.

  Her dark hair fell in thick waves about her shoulders when it wasn’t pinned back and, regrettably, in a bun as she’d fashioned it that morning. Her eyes were cornflower blue and expressively revealing of whatever she was feeling or thinking at any given moment.

  She was intelligent, yes, but she also possessed an insatiable curiosity that won over her sensibilities sometimes just enough for her to have a reckless streak. And thank God for that streak or I’d still be standing outside of her room, agonizing over whether or not I should knock.

  What intrigued me most was that she was accepting. Despite the fear she must have felt when she found out about my family’s secret, and the confusion that most likely followed from never having heard of any like my kind, she had accepted the truth and had adjusted. So much, in fact, that she’d allowed me to make love to her the night before.

  My chest tightened as I remembered her little cries and the sound of my name on her voice when she’d screamed in orgasm. I’d wanted it to be good for her, had painstakingly kept in control of my own need until hers had been fulfilled.

  “Leander.” Beatrice’s voice rose, and I glanced back at her to find her frowning at me. “I asked if you approve of this list.”

  I turned back to the window. “You can spend however much you like, you know that.”

  “You are not even listening to me. I could have said I wanted three rolls of silk and a new broach, and you’d have agreed to it,” she snapped.

  “You’d look good in blue,” I answered and grinned back at her when she blew out her breath in frustration. After a few moments, she tucked her list away and stepped closer.

  “Have you fed today?”

  “No.” My stomach was uneasy. I hated the process of feeding, hated what I became. I’d seen the flight of fear across Elizabeth’s face the night before when she glimpsed my change. No man in his right mind wants a woman to look at him like that.

  “I wish that you would. Otherwise, I will have to tolerate the other stalking around the house at all hours raising havoc and causing trouble.” She touched my arm, and I looked down at her. “And you wouldn’t have to hide yourself away from a certain young governesses if you would stop neglecting yourself.” Her smile was all-knowing. It seemed nothing went on in the manor without her finding out about it.

  I grunted and stepped away from the window to retreat to my desk. “But at least I could escape your prying into my business.”

  She didn’t miss a beat. “Or have the other prying in places he shouldn’t pry.”

  I clenched my back teeth together. There was that. Elizabeth seemed as drawn to Highcrest as she was to me. It unnerved me and made me angry, though I wasn’t certain why.

  “That’s your method? To make me jealous of myself?” I tried to cover my temper with humor.

  “You are not yourself when you allow him room to come in.” Beatrice moved behind me and put her hands on my shoulders affectionately as she continued. “How can such a good man have such a vile rogue living inside of him?”

  I hated to hear her talk about him like that. Marcus Highcrest was a part of me, my twin who waited for a few hours of freedom when I would allow them. It was true that he was dangerous, wicked, perhaps even evil at times, but it was due to being trapped inside another man’s life. Only he wasn’t another man…he was the darker side of me, always aware, always in my head. At that moment, Marcus was there, dormant, listening. I could feel him, laughing at Beatrice’s words, waiting to take his revenge in the form of a mouse in her bed.

  “You don’t speak so poorly of Richard, and he’s as much of a rogue as I am,” I pointed out. I tilted my head back in time to see some of the hardness seep away from the lines on her face.

  “Your brother is spoiled, not vile,” she defended. “I received a letter from him two days ago. He’s returning to Blakewood soon. He has a new pet he wants to show everyone no doubt.”

  “And a new brat to drop in my lap,” I mumbled and frowned, realizing I’d said the words I’d heard in my head aloud.

  “Leander!” Beatrice gasped. “I’m surprised you would speak about the children like that. Surely, you are the head of this family and must provide for those children.”

  “Of course, I will provide for them.” I swiveled my chair around and took her hands, not liking the look of disapproval in her eyes. “I love all three. I just wish he would stay long enough to get to know them.”

  She nodded. “Yes. But you are a good father to them, Leander, and he is too wild to settle yet. He wouldn’t be any good for them if he was made to remain here all the time.” She squeezed my hands gently. “He shall be jealous for certain of your new governess. That is if you don’t let her slip off with the other one.”

  The other one. She always referred to Marcus like that, but I had a suspicion that she didn’t truly hate him as much as she made out. How could she? She knew as well as I that I’d have starved to death as a child when I began refusing to feed . He’d saved me. There’d been a time when we’d become one, both equal in our lives, but as we'd grown older, he'd grown stronger, and I hadn’t the strength to fight his impulses.

  “If she were going to slip off, she would have done so already,” I said, wishing my voice didn’t reflect my irritation.

  “Give him time, he’ll wear down her defenses. You know how he is.”

  “You don’t make it any easier when you talk like that. It just agitates him.” I could feel him pushing to get a word out. It wasn’t a nice a word, either.

  “Then go upstairs and feed.” Beatrice released my hands and walked to the window to look out at Elizabeth and Ritchie. “She’ll be here when you are finished, and she's probably grateful you aren’t leering at her like she’s dessert.”

  I didn’t move. I knew Claudia didn’t mind when I was the one to come to her and not Marcus. She enjoyed the sex and had told me on several occasions that the feeding didn’t bother her at all. It was me that it bothered. The idea of biting into someone and drinking their blo
od like a cannibal left me disgusted and made me feel like a monster. It’s who you are, came the voice in my head.

  “It’s who I am,” I echoed and then winced. Sometimes, he was just an ass.

  Beatrice spun around, a look of horror on her face. “Oh, Leander, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

  When she rushed forward, I stood and held open my arms. She embraced me tightly, and I tried to convince her that I knew what she’d meant.

  “Elizabeth and Ritchie are returning.” I knew she wouldn’t want Elizabeth to see her so vulnerable. She straightened and smoothed back her hair, emotion erased from her expression just as Ritchie burst into the room a stone clutched in his small hand. As I looked closer I found the stone was roughly the shape of a tadpole.