A Vampire Bundle
Page 49
“I would hardly call that unfortunate.” The thin nose flared with distaste. “A pity the wizard didn’t wipe them out completely.”
A sentiment Dante would have agreed with thoroughly until Abby was thrust into carrying the Phoenix. Now his only concern was finding the means to release her from her burden.
“We have already been through this, Viper.”
“And you know my feelings.”
“In gruesome detail.” Dante raised a hand to rub the knotted muscles of his neck. “Will you help me?”
“You know you don’t have to ask. I may consider you all kinds of a fool, but I will always have your back.”
“Thank you,” Dante murmured with genuine sincerity.
“What do you need?”
“Protection.” Dante promptly answered. “Something small enough to carry but able to deal with the zombies.”
A smile twitched at the corners of Viper’s lips.
“No doubt I have something suitable in my vault,” he retorted. Dante knew Viper’s vault could arm entire countries. His arsenal ranged from prototype weapons stolen from top scientists to ancient armaments blessed with powerful magic. “What else?”
“I think someone should keep an eye on the wizard. He was calling upon powers that have been forgotten for centuries. He could be a problem.”
“Ah.” The dark eyes abruptly glittered with anticipation. “Perhaps I will toddle over for a visit. I haven’t gone against a decent wizard since the Middle Ages.”
Dante frowned. As a rule, Viper managed to avoid petty confrontations. Unlike most vampires, he didn’t feel the need to prove his balls by challenging every demon that crossed his path. Which was one of the reasons Dante preferred his company to others.
But there was a part of Viper that couldn’t resist a challenge. If he thought there might be something out there to give him a worthy battle, he wouldn’t hesitate to leap in with gun blazing.
Or fangs flashing.
“Be careful,” Dante warned sternly. “I don’t doubt he’ll have a few nasty tricks up his sleeve.”
Viper chuckled with cold amusement. “Trust me, Dante, no one can match me for nasty tricks.”
“That I well believe,” Dante muttered, reaching out to grasp his friend’s shoulder as his knees threatened to buckle.
“God, you can barely stand,” Viper growled, a hint of concern touching his lean features. “Go to bed. I will set a watch outside your rooms. You and your Abby are safe here.”
Dante nodded in relief. “You’re a good man, Viper.”
“Spread that around and I’ll chop you into bacon bits and leave you to the sun,” the older vampire warned.
“It goes with me to the grave.”
Feeling every one of his four hundred plus years, Dante made his way back through the darkened hallways. At least he would have a few hours of rest.
No wizards, witches, zombies, or demons.
Just Abby.
Heaven.
Entering the private apartment, he headed directly to the bedroom only to be halted by the unmistakable sound of splashing water.
The weariness slid away as a faint smile curved his lips. Altering his course, he moved toward the bathroom and stepped through the door to study the slender woman soaking in the vast tub.
Speaking of heaven . . .
If his heart still beat, it would have halted at the sight of the white skin glowing in the candlelight like the rarest pearl and her honey curls fanned about her gamine face. Thankfully the rest of his body functioned just fine. Dante allowed his gaze to trail over the soft thrust of her breasts to the tempting triangle of hair between her thighs, and he felt himself grow hard.
Painfully hard, he acknowledged as his erection bit into the buttons of his pants.
With perfect clarity, he recalled the feel of her warmth as she had held him in her arms and the aching pleasure as she had rode him to completion.
Ah, sweet heavens he wanted her.
No, he needed her.
With a desperation that made a mockery of mere lust.
Silently kicking off his boots and shrugging out of his shirt, Dante paced forward and settled on the edge of the tub.
“Is this a private party or can anyone join in?” he murmured softly.
With an obvious effort, Abby lifted her lids to regard him with a slumberous gaze.
“Dante,” she husked, making no attempt to cover her delectable curves. “I didn’t hear you return.”
He choked back a curse as his erection swelled in response to the beautiful vision below him.
He wanted to kiss every inch of her wet, slick skin. To sink between her thighs and taste her heat. To watch her eyes widen with pleasure as he entered her and to thrust both of them into mindless bliss.
His hand trembled with the force of his desire as he reached out to stroke his fingers down the curve of her neck. He could feel the softness of her skin, the heat of her rushing blood.
“I thought you would be asleep by now,” he murmured.
She heaved a soft sigh. “This feels so good, I can’t make myself leave.”
Dante slowly smiled. “I have something that would feel even better.”
Her eyes darkened as a smile of pure temptation curved her lips.
“I don’t know.” Her gaze lingered on his bare chest. “This is pretty much at the top of the feel-good list.”
Rising to his feet, Dante quickly rid himself of his pants before he joined her in the heated water. The steam clouded about him, filled with the scent of vanilla and woman, rousing the predator that always lurked just beneath the surface.
With a growl of satisfaction, Dante pulled her into his arms as he performed a smooth roll, anchoring her atop his aching body with her legs straddling his hips.
He smiled into her startled eyes as he carefully smoothed her damp curls behind her ears.
“Lover, you’re just about to learn a whole new list.”
Her breath caught as his hands skimmed down the curve of her back to cup her backside, pressing her firmly against his throbbing shaft.
“You think you’re that good?” she breathed.
Dante chuckled as he lifted his head to nibble at the base of her throat.
“Oh, better. Much better.”
“I . . .” Her head tilted back as he gave her a small nip, her hips moving in silent encouragement. “Oh.”
Dante groaned. Her skin fascinated him. So soft. So warm.
He licked a hungry path to her breast.
The animal in him longed to simply thrust into her and find his release. There was something to be said for a swift, sweaty orgasm.
But not with Abby, he conceded.
This was not sex.
Not mindless coupling.
It was a joining that he could feel right to his dead heart.
Savoring the sweet taste of her, Dante circled her tightening nipple with the tip of his tongue. With light strokes he teased her until he heard her hiss of breath, and she grasped his head in her hands.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Is this what you want, lover?” he demanded, closing his lips about the peak to suckle her with gentle urgency.
“Yes.”
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her legs parting until she could rub herself against the length of his erection.
Dante closed his eyes at the intense shock of pleasure that flared through him. Bloody hell. Nothing had ever felt so good. And he wasn’t even inside her.
The warm water surged about them, and the candles flickered, adding to the erotic sensations. He arched his hips upward, his hands shifting to stroke over her inner thighs. Slowly he traced patterns on her wet skin, simply enjoying the feel of her. He could stay here an eternity, he realized with a tiny jolt of surprise.
Just the two of them, alone and at peace.
Still teasing the hard tip of her breast with his tongue, he slid his hands higher, tugging her legs farther apart until he discove
red her center.
Her lashes lowered as he trailed a finger between her soft folds.
“Dante,” she breathed.
Nibbling his way to her neglected breast, he lightly scoured his fangs over the sensitive swell even as his finger stroked into her sleek heat.
Abby moaned, tangling her hands in his hair. He leaned back to watch the flush darken across her cheekbones. God, but she was beautiful. An exotic angel that had tumbled into his grasp.
With a slow expertise, he stroked his finger deep within her. At the same time he used his thumb to caress her tiny nub of pleasure.
“You feel so good,” he muttered, his tongue flicking over the tip of her nipple. “So ready for me.”
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
Dante gave a choked laugh. “There isn’t a force on earth that could halt me now, lover.”
Sighing softly, Abby allowed her hands to smooth down the length of his neck and over the muscles of his shoulders. Her touch was light, but a trail of fire followed in the wake of her fingers.
A shudder of pleasure arced through his body. For centuries he had sought out vampires and demons to ease his needs. The fierce, mindless sex suited his frustrated mood. Besides, human women were a complication he didn’t need.
Now he realized just how much he had been missing.
The soft, lingering touch.
The scent of female desire.
The delicious foreplay that made him quiver with longing.
As if reading his mind, Abby lowered her head to press her lips to his chest. With open-mouthed kisses she moved to suckle his sensitive nipple, her hands stroking down the hard muscles of his stomach.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned as she briefly hesitated and then grasped his straining erection in a tender grip.
“Maybe you’re not the only one with skills, lover,” she teased as she stroked him from top to bottom and back again.
Dante hissed at the exquisite sensations that jolted through him. Skills? No. Her touch was not mere skill. It was magic.
His hips instinctively rocked to thrust his cock in her grip. God, it felt so good.
Too good.
Astonishingly he could sense the delicious pressure building deep within him. His climax was already beaconing, and he was far from finished with this woman.
Gritting his teeth, Dante concentrated on the feel of her beneath his fingers. He conjured all the expertise he had gained over the centuries to heighten her stimulation. Her moan of pleasure was all he needed to assure him that he hadn’t lost his touch.
“Come for me, Abby,” he whispered softly.
Her breath quickened as her fingers tightened upon him.
“Dante . . .”
“That’s it, lover,” he encouraged, using his thumb to bring her to the edge.
Lost in the delight of watching her face as she neared her climax, Dante was unprepared when she suddenly stilled above him, a small smile touching her lips.
“Abby?” he questioned softly.
Her smile widened, and the water churned as she abruptly shifted her weight. With a speed that caught Dante off guard, she rolled to one side, easily pulling him atop her. He floundered for a moment and might have protested at the sudden interruption if her legs hadn’t parted and wrapped about his waist.
Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands.
“You started this, Dante; you finish it,” she murmured with a gleam in her eyes.
Dante chuckled as she tossed his words back into his face.
Oh yes.
He intended to finish this.
To both their satisfaction.
His chuckle became a groan as he pressed himself into her ready heat. She lifted her hips to meet his thrust, and he knew if he wasn’t already dead, she would surely kill him.
What man could endure such bliss?
Thank God he was a vampire.
He intended to endure the bliss several more times before the day was through.
Some time later, Abby lay wrapped in Dante’s arm in the middle of the vast bed.
She felt pleasantly weary and sated. Just as a woman should feel after a great bout of sex.
Unfortunately she also felt more than a little creeped out.
She cringed as she lightly stroked her fingers over Dante’s shoulder, which was still reddened from the steam.
Who knew?
She had reached climax before. Well, at least what passed for a climax, considering the jerks she had dated. She had even reached climax with Dante. Glorious, wonderful, mind-numbing climax.
More than once.
And while she might have felt as if she were on fire whenever he touched her, she had never actually put out enough heat to boil water.
It was . . . unnatural. And embarrassing.
And, most of all, frightening.
Sensing Dante’s curious gaze, Abby reluctantly lifted her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
His brows drew together in puzzlement. “For what?”
She grimaced. “Nearly boiling you like a lobster.”
A slow smile curved his lips as he pulled her even closer.
An instant jolt of excitement raced down her spine at the feel of his stirring body.
Jeez. Vampires seemed to be insatiable when it came to sex. Not that she was complaining. In fact, her first thought was, Yippee.
“A very, very happy lobster,” he murmured. “I assure you that it was worth every singe.”
She bit her bottom lip, her self-disgust returning with a vengeance.
“Dante.”
He stroked a finger down her flushed cheek. “It wasn’t your fault, Abby. You have powers now you don’t even understand, let alone control. It’s bound to cause a few side effects. Some of which are more pleasant than others.”
Her flush deepened as he deliberately reminded her of her brand-spanking-new strength and seemingly endless endurance.
All gifts of the Phoenix, it seemed.
And incredible bonuses when it came to making love.
“I’m glad you can find some humor in the situation.”
The silver eyes glinted with amusement. “Trust me, lover, you can laugh or you can cry. It changes nothing.”
“Easy for you to say,” she grouched. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your body taken over and . . .” Her words abruptly trailed away as he arched a raven brow. “Oh.”
“You were saying?”
“Something incredibly stupid,” she muttered wryly. “I guess you do know.”
He gave a slow nod. “Too well.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “You’d think if some being was going to take over your body, they’d at least have the decency to leave you a handbook. I could kill myself or, worse, someone else with my blundering about.”
He absently toyed with a curl that lay against her cheek. “I suppose a higher being assumes that you should simply know the rules and regulations.”
“A higher being?”
“The Phoenix is worshipped as a goddess by those who battle the dark lord.”
Worshipped. Well. A girl could get used to something like that.
“A goddess, huh?” She attempted what she assumed to be a regal look. It had a lot of thin lips and flared nostrils. “Does that mean you have to bow down and pray to me?”
He chuckled softly, that wicked glint returning to his silver eyes.
“I don’t battle the dark lord, lover,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple, her cheek, and down the curve of her neck, “but I don’t mind bowing down and tasting this glorious sweetness.”
Abby didn’t mind his bowing down either. In fact, if she wasn’t so freaked out, she would have told him to get on with the bowing down right quick.
Instead, she lightly touched his face. “Dante . . .”
Nibbling at her collarbone, he was already distracted. “Hmmm?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said softly.
“You won’t hurt me, Abby,” he assured her in low tones.
“How do you know? When I . . .” Abby awkwardly hesitated. “When we’re together, the powers just burst out of me.”
His lips twitched at her shyness. No surprise there. She was lying naked in his arms after a three-hour bout of sex.
Now she couldn’t say the word orgasm out loud.
Go figure.
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
Her lips thinned at his hint of amusement. “This isn’t a joke, Dante.”
His eyes slowly narrowed. “Abby, what is it?”
“It’s dangerous—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You know I’m immortal. There’s something else. You’re frightened.”
She shifted. He was probing into memories and emotions she had kept locked away for years.
Memories she would have seared out of her brain if she could have.
“Of course I’m frightened,” she muttered. “I have this thing inside that’s changing everything, and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it.”
His hand stroked a soothing path through her hair. “Understandable, but I think there’s more here. Tell me what you fear.”
She swallowed heavily before forcing herself to meet his probing gaze.
“Losing control.”
“Control of what?”
“Of myself.” She sucked in a deep breath. “What if I hurt someone?”
There was a brief silence as he brooded upon her words. Then with care he shifted to touch the ugly scar that marred her shoulder.
“Like someone hurt you?”
Abby flinched. Not from his touch, but from the pain of dredging up her violent past.
“Compliments of my father in one of his drunken furies,” she said in clipped tones.
Dante’s expression remained stoic, but there was no mistaking the lethal fury that flashed through his eyes.
“What did he do to you?”
“He took exception to my attempts to keep him from beating my mother and stabbed me with a broken beer bottle.”