MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles
Page 19
“But—”
“You cannot embroider to save your life. I can tell you’re still learning your way around managing a household. You have a temper as fiery as the hair upon that beautiful head and a tongue as sharp as your daggers…and I would not have you any…other…way.”
“But—”
His mouth descended and claimed hers with sensual delights once again until she trembled in his arms. “Silence, woman, and make love to me.”
He nibbled a path to her chin then regarded her with hooded eyes as his hand hiked the hem of her chemise. The calloused pads of his fingers contrasted against her tender skin and she shivered when he caressed her inner thigh. “Let me touch you, Cailin.” His words feathered against her ear. “Let me inside you.” His finger flicked the sensitive bud hidden in the curls between her thighs and she gasped. “Let me show you how you are the only woman I will ever love.”
She surrendered with a whimper and claimed his mouth with her own, her tongue sweeping in to taste him. James groaned, fueling their urgency to remove the barrier of their clothes. Within dizzying moments, Cailin lay naked on the bed before him, his gaze hungry and raking her body as he stood before her.
“My God, you are so beautiful.”
She dropped her eyes to his shaft, jutting proud and challenging. There it was. All her curiosity over what the male member actually looked like, what James would look like, were satisfied in a single glance. Yet her curiosity over this mysterious organ fueled new questions.
Sitting forward, she diverted her gaze to his face as she licked lips suddenly gone dry. James gasped and his hand grasped his cock. The heat rushing to her sex elicited a moan from her throat and she marveled as a clear drop wept from the crown of his shaft.
She reached out and caught the warm fluid with her fingertip, then touched it to her tongue.
“Cailin!” She hardly had time to explore the salty taste as he descended swiftly upon her and buried his head in her neck, grunting. He nestled his cock along the slick folds between her thighs…not penetrating, but sliding the length of him against her. He pumped his hips, sending delicious shivers of pleasure through her legs, her breath rapid pants. The tip of his cock stroked farther back…back to caress and tease her anus with each thrust. She shuddered with delight and surprise.
His pace slowed and she mewed in protest as he pulled away and placed a fingertip to her lips. “This will hurt at first, but—”
“Silence, you rogue, and make love to me!” She thrust her hips forward, aching to feel those scrumptious sensations again.
A deep rumble of laughter undulated through James, vibrating against Cailin’s breasts and she arched against him. His laughter transformed into a moan and he bent his head to draw her nipple into his mouth, teasing the peak with his teeth. “James! Please!”
“Anxious for me to fill you, my little Mouse?” His deep voice hummed across her tingling skin.
“Aye!”
Cailin caught her breath as the tip of his cock hovered against her maidenhead. She locked her gaze with his and he nodded. This would consummate their betrothal. They would be as good as married.
She nodded in response.
He thrust forward and she grunted, the pain swift and fading as he pumped against her. James moaned and shackled her wrists above her head, rocking in and out. “Uhhh, Cailin!” His breath dampened her cheek. “God, I could stay buried inside you forever.” His hands smoothed down her body to cup her bottom and angle her entrance upward to meet each thrust.
She had heard, though never imagined…how could anyone describe…her mind swirled with the pleasure coursing through her body, the slickness of his wonderful shaft stroking the center of her universe, and she gasped at the pressure building inside, climbing, rising… “Oh…God…James…I…” Cailin tossed her head to the side and clutched his back, crying out as he continued to drive her over a crescendo of bliss.
James threw his head back and thundered his release, his thrusts slowing as his thighs trembled. Cailin wrapped her legs around his waist and held tight. Their labored breaths mingled with their sated kisses and moans of endearment. Collapsing to the bed, James rolled onto his back, panting.
“I can now see why you have been so anxious to wed me,” she cooed, snuggling up against his side and twirling her fingertip around his puckered nipple.
“Och, woman!” He stayed her hand. “Continue your toying and I will take you again.”
Cailin giggled and leaned forward, lapping her tongue against the pink pebble she just fondled. James pulled her atop his body to straddle his hips, his knees bending to cradle her back comfortably against his thighs. Her mouth opened in surprise. “You cannot take me thus…can you?”
That wicked laughter rumbled in his chest and his wolfish grin set her heart to fluttering. “Oh, my sweet Mouse…there are many ways I may take you.”
Her brows shot up at the possibilities. “Truly? What other ways?”
His hand snaked between her legs, his fingers caressed her sex. “Oohhh, sweet heavens!” Cailin bucked her hips against the glorious sensations as she held tight to her thighs.
He groaned. His fingers rubbed against that life-centering bud, teasing, stroking, smoothing through her wet cleft, touching farther back against that wicked little hole the crown of his cock had brushed against earlier when his shaft slid between her legs. James slowed his fingers and she opened her eyes and frowned. “Why did you stop?”
His eyebrows waggled and a devilish smile graced his full lips. He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the oil lamp. Puffing out the flame, he lifted the top and wick and sniffed. “Ahhh…olive oil.” He coated his fingertips with oil and seemed to test the texture by rubbing it around his finger pads. Nodding, he replaced the lamp then reached around Cailin. His oiled fingers fondled the tight hole of her anus and she gasped.
“How naught—” But her protests died in her moans of approval when his other hand continued to tickled her pleasure bud. Both hands, slick and glorious, stroked between her legs, exploring her sex and a place she had never dreamed to go.
“Lean forward for me,” his husky voice coaxed.
Hands on his rock-hard chest, she did as he bade and the motion pushed her bud between his fingers. Cailin jerked against his hand, grunting as both sides of her nub received attention. She near-squealed when the tip of his finger behind her penetrated her anus and she ceased rocking. “James!”
“Easy, dove,” he soothed, a mischievous grin playing upon his mouth. “I’ll go no farther.” He pulled his finger out…then slid back in.
“Ooohh…oh, James…”
Out…then in. His other fingers continued to stroke her quim in the same, lethargic rhythm.
“Just tell me if you wish me to stop,” he whispered.
“If you stop now,” she panted, “I shall never speak to you again.”
James’s delicious rumble of laughter sent more heat to her sex. The slow movement was no longer enough. Cailin rocked faster and James matched her pace. He removed his hand from her bud and, before she could complain, he replaced it with the side of his shaft. His hand still gripped her from behind, his one finger still penetrating her as she slid against his thick rod laying along his belly. With a swift wave of sweet ecstasy, Cailin shuddered and cried out her release, her eyes wide with amazement as the most incredulous pleasure rushed through her limbs.
“Sweet heavens!” She gulped for air. “That was wondrous.” She collapsed to his chest.
“Oh, ’tis far from finished with you I am, woman.” James lifted her from his lap just enough to grab his cock and position it upright before he thrust his hips and buried himself to the hilt inside her. With the encouragement of his hands on her arse, Cailin bounced atop James, bracing her hands on his chest. How could it be possible that this position was even more divine than the other?
Cailin diverted her eyes from the ceiling back to James’s face and she bit her bottom lip to stay the laughter that threa
tened to bubble forth. Through the marvelous grinding, she managed to say, “Why James, ’tis though you have stolen the king’s jewels. What is that mischief in your eyes?”
Her betrothed—nay, now he would be husband—eased his cadence and reached up to caress the bottom swell of her breasts. Eyes feasting upon her flesh, he said, “I have stolen away with a jewel more prized than any king’s ransom. Cailin Mac—Cailin Knightly, a woman whose passion meets that of my own, whose skill with a blade makes me want to impale her.” He thrust upward and she moaned. With a gentle hand to the nape of her neck, he pulled her down for a tender kiss. He cupped her face with his palms. “And a woman whom I can count as my dearest friend. You have not changed much these years, Mouse…except to become more beautiful and entrancing. You have always been the adventuresome, practical and passionate person who is my perfect mate.”
Cailin’s smile melted into a frown. “But how freely can we enjoy our life together if it is haunted by the threat of Angus Campbell?”
“We will overcome that threat,” he promised. “For now, let us not spoil this time together.” James moved his hips under her, successfully wrangling her thoughts back to their lovemaking, and they rode to another climax in each other arms before they lay entangled and satiated and drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
Angus scowled in the darkness. His body trembled with weakness. His mind swirled with confusion and anger. What had transpired while in possession of that wretched girl?
This sickness upon him was much like the weakness that lorded over his body for three years after Broderick had driven Davina’s silver-decorated blade into his heart. The silver had poisoned him and his recovery was more extensive than he had ever imagined possible. Three years…before he returned to being somewhat normal again. Three years of living like an animal, feeding off the weak and frail like an outcast wolf waiting for scraps, before he was strong enough to pursue any real kind of hunt. Three years to seethe over the lies Broderick MacDougal either believed himself or was foolish enough to think Angus would believe.
Fingering the welted burn on his chest where Cailin had touched the medallion to his skin, he snarled. The crude symbols from the piece, he was sure, would mark his skin permanently. “The Tzava Ha’or,” he growled. Why was the Army of Light protecting them? How did Broderick obtain this, being a Vamsyrian?
“Lord Campbell?” Jasper’s raspy voice intruded upon Angus’s thoughts. But the smell of blood drifted through the cracks of the dark, chamber door and gave Angus strength.
He grinned. Jasper and three of his henchmen were all Cailin and James had left behind. All four of them were wounded. Even in his weakness, Angus had overpowered and shoved them into the adjoining chamber, locking them inside before the lethargy of his daytime slumber rendered him unconscious.
He rose on shaky knees, inhaled deeply to savor the aroma of their fear and stalked to the door. Swinging it open, Angus surveyed the four men lying about the room, propped against the walls, their eyes searching the blackness through which only Angus could see. The thick scent of their blood swept over him like a determined lover, arousing his urgency. By their gasps, Angus knew the silver glow in his eyes had flared to life, a sign of the Hunger.
“Good morrow, Jasper.” The grave tone of his voice pleased him.
Jasper squeaked some unintelligible word, cleared his throat and tried again. “Ye said ye wanted to wait until the next day to ask yer questions. We be ready to aid ye, m’lord.”
“And that you will, Jasper.” Angus filled the doorway…their only escape. Narrowing his eyes at them, he struggled to discern their thoughts. He sensed their fear, but the words of their minds drifted incoherently in and out of reach, like a shout lost on the wind, a figure fading intermittently through fog. “Tell me, Jasper, what has transpired as of late that you have kept from me?”
“T-transpired, m’lord?” His voice trembled.
“Aye.” Angus crossed his arms. “The thought patterns I hear from you and your men…” A spike in Jasper’s fear stabbed at the Hunger and Angus smiled. “They are very much like the thought patterns I heard from the young James Knightly.” He knelt before Jasper and grabbed his shirt when the wretch tried to slink away. “I can smell your fear, Jasper. Conspiring with the enemy?”
Jasper’s jaw bobbed up and down and he stammered, “N-nay, m-m’lord! I-I—”
Dragging him to the corner by his shirt, Angus tossed Jasper aside and pounced on the next man within reach. Fingers buried in his greasy hair, he yanked the man’s head to the side and sank his fangs into this throat.
Blessed euphoria flooded his body and Angus surrendered to the sweet song of the man’s dying soul. Though he gained knowledge of this man’s life through his blood, as with any other feeding, this exchange was a silent one. No rambling thoughts. No cacophony of words. Just the absorption of knowledge from his miserable life of thieving and opportunistic choices. Ohhh…and as this creature’s body sagged in his arms, the life fading away, the euphoria continued.
Angus gasped as the man dropped to the floor like a sack of grain, forgotten and inconsequential compared to the rapture coursing through his veins. What is this heaven?
The pleasure of feeding normally ended—and rather abruptly—when he released his victims. This bliss continued to glide through his limbs, building, and merrily settled into his groin. Panting, Angus stepped forward and slapped his palms to the stone wall to steady himself as an unaided and ravishing climax surged through his shaft. His ballocks jerked into his body and he roared his release. Gasping for air, he shook his head to clear the haze of the lingering thrill.
“Huz-zah!” Snapping his head toward Jasper, he said, “What is this laudanum?”
Jasper swallowed. “B-beg yer pardon, m’lord?”
The other two men had made for the exit while Angus fed. One had succeeded in slinking into the hall, the other halfway over the threshold. “Oh nay, my little delicacies!”
With strength renewed by the fresh blood and this miracle drug, Angus snatched both men back from their retreat and tossed them into the corners of the room, slamming the door and bolting it.
He turned to Jasper once more and pointed to the body. “The experiences of that man, as you know, told me you gave these men something called laudanum to ease their pain.” He stalked forward and his henchman scrambled away on the floor. Angus backed him against the wall. Nose to nose, Angus chuckled at Jasper. “He did not know what it was made of, but true enough…the elixir eased his pain and gave him quite a sensation in the process.”
Jasper nodded in the dark. “Aye, m-m’lord. ’Tis something Alistair brought back from his journey to Germania when he sought after his son.” He panted for a moment before saying with a calmer voice, “Did ye gain some pleasure from the tonic in his blood, m’lord?”
Angus threw his head back and laughed. “Pleasure, my dear wretch, is exactly what I gained.” He turned to the man groaning across the room and, before the pitiful sod could scuffle away, Angus plucked him from the floor and fed. Another rippling and gratifying climax surged through his body. ’Tis well and good Vamsyrians no longer spill seed. My breeches would be filled!
The third man lay curled into a ball, crying and pleading for his life…petitions which fell upon deaf ears. Angus gloried in the third climax, his roar of approval filling the chamber. “Jasper, you must tell me about this wonderful elixir!”
The fear ebbed from Jasper, his breathing and voice more stable. “Well, yer lordship, I-I know not how it is made. Alistair had a source in Germania and—”
“Come now, Jasper.” Angus crossed his arms and stood before his now-shrinking servant. “Have you not yet learned I know when you are lying?”
“Nay, please, m’lord,” Jasper whimpered. “I—”
Angus pulled Jasper to his feet and sank his fangs into his throat, drinking deep, and a fourth climax rolled through his body. Angus stood trembling as the sensations ebbed. He absorbed and exa
mined the full truth—the recipe for the elixir and how Jasper had learned one side-effect of the tonic. It clouded musings so Vamsyrians were unable to clearly hear the thoughts of mortals.
“So, Alistair learned of this through his brief exchanges with Broderick,” Angus said to Jasper’s crumpled form, dying at his feet. “And you, my friend, decided to try it out on me to gain an advantage.” He smiled as a death rattle thrummed from Jaspers mouth. “Thank you for the thrilling experience and the knowledge of such a treat.”
Angus stalked from the room, through the ruins and out the front gate. The wind teased his cheeks as he dashed through the trees and toward his destination. Though strengthened by the blood and exhilaration of the feedings, he had not yet recovered his full strength. This meant he would not reach Edinburgh before dawn…but he may have a chance to catch up to James and Cailin before they reached the city.
James obviously obtained the laudanum from Alistair in spite of being on ill-terms with his father. This must have been how James was able to keep his thoughts clouded and why I could not anticipate his battle moves.
“Hrmmm…very clever, young Knightly.” He smiled as he glanced at the rising moon and increased his pace. “Let us see how clever you feel when I drain the life from your body and revel in another climax over your death.”
* * * * *
The moon, almost finishing its arc for the night, beckoned Broderick to make haste. Edinburgh—and home—were too close for him to stop now. He pressed on as fast as his limbs allowed.
Though the night before Malloren Rune had encouraged him to stay another day, Broderick rushed to cover as much ground as possible in the few short hours remaining in the evening. The words of the prophetess had attested her gift in most everything she had predicted, and yet he still did not trust her completely. He would not waste another moment away from his family in spite of her warning. He had also thought with his heart instead of his head and near regretted his decision, as finding a suitable shelter before dawn had almost been his undoing…just as she had said. Fortunately, he discovered an abandoned farmhouse with a root cellar that needed little preparation. He grudgingly offered thanks toward heaven as he lost consciousness. Due to his furious pace, the need to be home driving him ever onward and his familiarity with the route, the return trip proved shorter than his initial journey toward Stonehenge.