He aroused her slowly, his hands playing lightly over her quivering body, his tongue delving into her mouth, dueling with hers as he tasted her sweetness. He could have compelled her to respond to him. He could have forced her into submission, but it wasn’t necessary. She came alive in his arms, eagerly returning his kisses. He had expected her to be shy, hesitant, but she was young and untouched and curious. He had thought to gentle her to his will as one might gentle a filly who had not yet learned the touch of her master’s hand. But, again, it wasn’t necessary. She was willing and eager to learn, to touch and to taste, to explore the hard planes and angles of his body.
They came together like two lost souls who had been searching for each other for years, and perhaps they had. His climax came with hers, and it was unlike anything he had ever known. His only regret was that the moment passed so quickly.
Elena lay in Drake’s arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and wondered why any woman would find making love a chore. She had heard some of her aunt’s friends complain about the sexual side of marriage, but Elena could scarcely wait to make love to Drake again. She smiled inwardly. Of course, other women didn’t have Drake in their beds. If they did, she was certain they wouldn’t be complaining. He had been a tender lover, patient, gentle, willing to give her all the time she needed to feel comfortable with him, letting her explore the length and breadth of him to her heart’s content. His body was so wonderfully different from her own. She would have been happy to stay in his arms forever.
Gradually, her heartbeat slowed and her skin cooled, but not her desire. She wanted to touch him and be touched in return, to feel his breath on her face, to taste his kisses.
“Husband?”
“Yes, wife?”
She bit down on her lower lip, then huffed a sigh. They were married. It shouldn’t be so difficult to ask for what she wanted. What if he rejected her? What if he didn’t? “Can we . . . I mean, would it be all right if we . . . ?”
“Go on,” he coaxed.
She cleared her throat. “Well, you promised never to lay a hand on me again if I didn’t like it.”
He nodded.
“Well, what if I liked it?” she asked boldly. “Can we do it again? Unless you’d rather not,” she added quickly.
Drake laughed softly as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with amusement. “My dear wife, I should be more than happy to indulge your every wish.”
Chapter 13
In the morning, Elena woke with a song in her heart, a smile on her face, and aches in places that had never ached before, but it was a wonderful kind of pain. A wave of tenderness swept through her when she saw Drake sleeping beside her. He was an amazing lover. She hated to think what she would have missed if she had refused to consummate their marriage. How dreadful it would have been, to go through life never knowing how amazing making love could be. Remembering how disappointed some of her girlfriends had been after having made love to their boyfriends, Elena could only surmise that not every man was as skilled at the art of lovemaking as her husband.
Was it because he was a vampire? She frowned. And then she laughed. If being a vampire enhanced a man’s lovemaking, every woman in the world would be clamoring for her man to join the ranks of the Undead!
Rolling onto her side, Elena studied her husband’s face. His brows were nicely shaped, his lashes thick and rather long, his cheekbones high and pronounced, his lips . . . ah, those lips. A rush of warmth engulfed her when she remembered the intimate places his mouth had been last night.
A giggle rose in her throat. Would he make love to her like that again tonight? How could she wait until then? If she touched his shoulder, would he awaken and take her in his arms?
Why had it been necessary for them to make love? Not that she was sorry, but it would have been easy enough for her to lie to his sire and claim they had consummated their marriage. Who would know otherwise?
A breath whispered past Drake’s lips and then he smiled. “Rodin would know,” he murmured.
“I thought you were asleep!” Elena stared at him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“You were thinking so hard, it was impossible not to hear you.”
Even though his eyes were still closed, she made a face at him. Was there anything he couldn’t do? He came and went like the wind, he could read her mind. And he was the most amazingly attractive and virile man she had ever met.
“Thank you, wife.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Am I to have no secrets from you at all?”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “Probably not.”
She glared at him. There had to be a way to keep him from reading her mind. She tapped her fingertips on the mattress. There had to be a way. . . . Grinning, she began to mentally recite the recipe for chocolate chip cookies. And then, still thinking about flour and sugar and vanilla, she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.
He opened his eyes with a start, then burst out laughing. “Very clever, wife.”
“Thank you,” she said smugly, and then shrieked when he rolled her onto her back and straddled her thighs.
“Do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” she retorted with a quick, downward glance. “But it’s daytime,” she added primly.
“What has that to do with anything?” he asked.
“Well . . . the sun is up . . . and . . . and it’s daylight. . . .” she stammered. “Shouldn’t we wait until dark?”
“Daytime, nighttime, any time you desire, my darling wife.”
It had never occurred to her that people engaged in such intimate relations in the broad light of day. Besides . . . “How can you be awake when the sun is up?”
“How can I think of sleep with you lying there beneath me?”
“So you can be awake during the day?”
“For short periods of time, as long as I stay out of the sun.”
She stored that away for future reference.
Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth. “Should I stop?”
Feeling delightfully wicked, Elena clasped her hands behind his neck and drew him closer. “Read my mind,” she murmured, and pressed her lips to his.
It was late afternoon before Elena slipped on her robe and left the room. Drake was sleeping soundly. Had he been an ordinary man, she would have thought him weary after a morning of lovemaking, but he was a vampire, with the stamina of twenty men. It wasn’t exhaustion, but the sleep of his kind, that held him in its grasp.
In the kitchen, she heated water, then filled a small wooden tub. After removing her robe, she stepped into the water and scrubbed herself clean. She should be upset, she thought, frightened that the man she had married was a vampire. Instead, she felt like singing. What was wrong with her? Had a night and a morning of exquisite sex deprived her of her sanity? She felt herself smiling again as she thought of the hours she had spent in Drake’s arms, the sweet love words he had whispered in her ear.
Drying off, she slipped into her robe again, then looked around for something to eat. She settled for a bowl of fruit and a cup of tea.
Sitting at the table, waiting for the tea to cool, she found herself thinking of Drake and wondering how soon they could make love again.
Drake woke with the setting of the sun, unable to dispel a sense of doom as he prepared to return to the Fortress. He had avoided thinking about returning home for centuries. He had always been an outcast, never quite fitting in with the others of his kind. And now there was Elena. He never should have married her, never entangled her in his life, but it was too late now. She was a part of him. The best part.
After dressing, Drake left the castle to feed. Knowing he would need all his strength to face his sire, he fed often and deeply. It would have been quicker, easier, to simply drain one human, but to do so meant the mortal’s death. Only thoughts of E
lena kept him from taking a life now.
When he returned to the castle, he found his bride in the main room, a vision in a knee-length dress of lavender silk that showed off her feminine curves to perfection. The neckline was square, the sleeves short and puffy. Her smile of welcome warmed his heart.
“Good evening, wife,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. “How lovely you look.”
“Thank you.” She gazed up at him, a question in her eyes. “You’re late this evening.”
Nodding, he stroked her cheek, thinking it was as soft and silky as the dress she wore.
She tilted her head to the side. “Did you go out?”
“Yes. I needed to feed before we meet my sire.”
The mention of Rodin sent a shiver of unease through her. Try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself that Drake’s father would be happy to see her, especially when he learned that his son could no longer marry the woman who had been chosen for him.
“You didn’t tell me how Rodin would know if we had made love or not,” she remarked.
“He would only have to read your mind.”
“Can all vampires do that?”
He nodded. “We can read human minds, but not those of our own kind.”
“So, all the vampires I meet will be able to read my mind?” That was a troubling prospect. It would be most embarrassing, having them all know what she was thinking, especially when all she could think about was making love to Drake and how anxious she was to be in his arms, and in his bed, again.
He smiled at her. “Soon,” he promised. “But now, we must go.”
Hoping to put the moment off, she said, “I haven’t packed anything.”
“No need.” He gazed into her eyes. “Whatever happens, there is no reason for you to be afraid. My sire will not harm you. It is not Rodin’s way to make war on women.”
“War!” she exclaimed. “Are you going there to fight him?”
“No. At least not in the way you mean.”
“How long will it take us to get there?”
“No time at all.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Just hang on to me. You might experience a little dizziness or nausea, but it will soon pass.”
Elena frowned at him, but she didn’t have time to ask the questions forming in her mind. There was a strange sensation of moving rapidly through a thick gray haze, an odd buzzing in her ears, followed by a brief queasiness in the pit of her stomach. When the world righted itself again, she was standing in the middle of a large room like none she had ever seen before.
In front of her, two large chairs, ornately carved from black wood, stood side by side on a raised dais. A glance around the room showed a horseshoe-shaped table behind her. A quick count told her there were thirteen chairs at the table. Twelve of them were occupied by men—all of whom had long black hair, pale skin, dark eyes, and serious expressions. They looked so much alike, she was certain they must all be related.
She noted that the walls appeared to be white marble veined with gold and black; a thick gold carpet covered the floor; an enormous fireplace, also made of marble, took up one whole wall to the left of the dais. Heavy gold chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, but it was the glow of hundreds of candles that illumined the room.
But it wasn’t the décor of the room that held Elena’s attention. Rather, it was the man and woman who occupied the chairs on the dais. The woman was quite simply the most beautiful creature Elena had ever seen. She wore a long black velvet dress that displayed a modest amount of cleavage. The dark fabric made her pale skin glow like alabaster. Waist-length, pale blond hair fell over her bare shoulders. Her eyes were a dark, vibrant green. She wore no adornments of any kind save for a bloodred rose in her hair.
The man stood. He, too, was dressed all in black. Tall and broad-shouldered, with inky black hair and deep blue eyes, he looked enough like Drake to be his twin. He did not look happy to see the two of them.
“Drake.” His voice was deep, laced with an air of command. He made a sharp gesture with his hand, a silent order to approach.
Drake squeezed Elena’s hand. “Stay here. Whatever happens, do not interfere. And do not lie to him,” he murmured, and strode toward the dais, his head held high.
To her surprise, he knelt on one knee in front of the other man. “Sire.”
So, she thought, this was Drake’s father. Was the woman his mother?
Rodin made a broad gesture with his hand, and all the men seated at the table rose and left the chamber. The sound of the door closing behind them echoed like a death knell in Elena’s ears.
“Drake. It has been a long time,” Rodin remarked, his tone heavy with censure.
“Not long enough.”
“You know why I have called you here.”
Drake nodded curtly. “And you know I have no wish to take my place on the Council. Or to wed a woman of your choosing.”
“Unfortunately, the decisions are not yours to make.” Rodin lifted his gaze to Elena. “Who is this mortal and why have you brought her here, uninvited?”
Taking a deep breath, Drake said, “This is Elena. My wife.”
Outrage flashed in Rodin’s eyes.
The woman on the dais leaned forward, a gasp issuing from her lips. If possible, her face grew even more pale.
“I did not think you would go so far to defy me,” Rodin said, his voice cold.
“I was not thinking of you when I took her for my bride.”
“It is obvious you were not thinking at all! To marry a mortal is forbidden. You know that as well as I.”
Drake shrugged. “You know the old saying,” he retorted. “Laws are made to be broken.”
“Those who willfully defy the laws of the Coven invite destruction.”
Still kneeling, Drake flung his arms out to his sides. “Do your worst.”
“No!” The woman on the dais rose to her feet, tension evident in every line of her body. “I will not have it!”
“Be silent! I will not let him go unpunished.”
The woman relaxed visibly. “Of course not, my lord.”
Rodin didn’t say anything, but suddenly, there were four burly men in the room. They surrounded Drake. He made no move to resist when two of them pulled him to his feet and dragged him away. The other two men followed behind.
Elena stared after Drake, overcome with a sudden fear that she would never see him again. She yearned to run after him, but every instinct she possessed warned her to stay where she was.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Rodin and the woman. If Rodin treated his son like that, what would he do to her, an uninvited, unwelcome stranger?
Rodin regarded the female standing before him. It was easy to see why Drake had chosen her. She was young and pretty, with a slender figure and vibrant brown eyes. He sensed a streak of valor in her that she did not realize she possessed. It amused him to think that her courage might be put to the test before the night was out.
Drawing himself up to his full height, he said, “I am Rodin and this is my wife, Liliana.”
“I’m Elena Knightsbridge,” she said, only then realizing she didn’t know Drake’s last name. Perhaps he didn’t have one.
“Has Drake told you of us, what we are?” Rodin asked.
Elena hesitated; then, remembering Drake’s admonition to tell the truth, she nodded.
“You wed him knowing what he is?”
“No. I did not learn that until later.”
“What has he told you?”
“Very little.”
“Do you know why I summoned him here?”
“Yes.”
“Your presence complicates matters. My son is betrothed to another. Their marriage was to take place when the moon is new.”
Not knowing how to respond, Elena remained mute.
Liliana took a step forward, her gaze fixed on Elena’s face. “Are you in love with Drake?”
“Yes,” she said, and knew in that moment that it was true. Somewhere
along the way, she had fallen in love with him.
“And does he love you?” Liliana asked, her brow furrowed.
“I don’t know.”
“Love!” Rodin said, sneering. “An overrated emotion, to be sure. It has nothing to do with Drake’s responsibility to the Coven.”
Elena cleared her throat. “I would think that our marriage would negate his betrothal to another.”
“Our race is very old,” Rodin said, resuming his seat. “Our men are strong and virile, as you undoubtedly know. However, in spite of their lusty nature, they are unable to procreate until they have survived for five centuries. And because our women far outnumber the men, it is forbidden for males who attain that age to waste their seed on mortal women. Such unions do not produce offspring.”
Elena stared at him. She had not given any thought to having children, had just assumed it would happen sooner or later. Now, realizing it would never happen filled her with an unexpected sadness.
“The breeding season for our women is short,” Rodin continued. “The woman chosen for Drake is young and fertile.”
Elena clenched her hands. Drake had told her that Rodin wouldn’t hurt her, but she was beginning to have her doubts.
“Rodin,” Liliana said quietly, “I believe you are scaring our guest.”
He grunted softly. “I must think about this. Take her to dinner.”
Elena felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was she going to be dinner?
“Come with me,” Liliana said imperiously.
Filled with trepidation, Elena followed Liliana out of the room, down a wide candlelit hallway lined with portraits, and into a large dining hall. The walls were stark white, devoid of decoration. Dozens of young men and women sat at long trestle tables that were laden with bowls and platters and baskets filled with more food than Elena had ever seen. The women all wore long gray dresses; the men wore gray vests and pants.
The occupants all turned to look at Elena when she entered the room.
Liliana guided her to an empty seat at the last table near the back of the room. “Please, sit down. I will bring you a tray.”
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