Denise ducked her head, breaking off their kiss, her breath hitting his neck in soft gasps.
“Spade…wait…”
That’s right, they were in the basement with two humans gawking at their every move. Spade swept Denise up and walked swiftly out of the room, claiming her mouth in another kiss. Desire made her taste stronger and sweeter at the same time, inflaming him, making him unable to keep from stroking her hip and her breast as he carried her.
Denise made muffled sounds against his mouth while her temperature seemed to shoot up a few degrees. Her heady scent grew stronger, too, entrancing him. He reached the landing of the first floor when she tore her mouth away with a strength and speed he hadn’t expected of her. Something hot, wet, and unbelievably rich swirled down his tongue.
“Spade, I—”
He couldn’t help it; he swallowed. His guttural moan made her stop speaking in mid sentence. Her hazel eyes settled on his mouth—and widened. Nothing short of his own death could have stopped Spade from licking his lips, and then hers, to catch the remaining traces of her blood from where she’d moved too quickly and scraped her bottom lip on his fang.
Spade could almost feel the intoxicating ambrosia stealing through his veins. His heart didn’t beat, but he’d directed his blood south at their first kiss, circulating it there to keep him hard for her. Denise’s blood seemed to race there as well, turning his already-boiling desire into a mindless flat hunger. Now. All of her, now.
As his last consideration to propriety, he staggered into the nearest room, not bothering to see if he’d managed to kick the door closed before he fell to the floor on top of her.
Denise’s first thought on seeing her blood stain Spade’s lips was Oh shit. Then the fire that leapt into his gaze and the way he dominated her mouth in his next kiss made her decide that self-preservation was overrated. Sure, she should be screaming to Bones for help, as it was clear Spade had no intention of letting her go until the effects from her blood ran their course. But despite her blood obviously affecting him, Spade hadn’t tried to bite her. If Denise screamed for Bones, it would mean Spade would stop what he was doing—and she didn’t want him to stop.
His tongue plunged repeatedly into her mouth, twining and twisting with such seductive intensity, Denise soon felt like breathing was overrated, too. Spade’s one hand still contained hers behind her back, but the other…oh, the other ran over her body in the most erotic, merciless way, squeezing, stroking, and probing her flesh at all her most sensitive points. He tore away her nightgown and robe with a noise of impatience, his mouth at her breast before Denise could even gasp in air.
“So soft, hard, and hot, all at once,” Spade muttered as he tongued her breast. A sudden strong suction at her nipple had her back arching, but even as she reveled in the sensations from that, his hand landed between her legs, palm pressing deeply against her clitoris.
Denise couldn’t stop the cry that came out of her mouth. She looked at Spade’s shirt in frustration, wanting to feel his skin on hers, not fabric. And his pants…had she ever hated anything as much as she hated his pants at this moment?
“Let me go,” Denise gasped, tugging at her hands.
Spade’s grip tightened on them. “No.” A low growl against her breast that wasn’t any less sensual for its refusal.
Of course. Her hands had ugly claws and nightmarish fingers. No wonder Spade didn’t want her touching him with them; they were gross and dangerous.
Thinking about her hands was a douse of cold water on her ardor. Denise edged back, trying to sit up even though Spade’s body was half covering hers.
“Spade, maybe we shouldn’t—”
A bolt of pleasure shot through her breast, so sharp and fast, she couldn’t breathe. When she did suck in a ragged breath, it ended on a moan as sudden, rapturous heat flamed in her nipple. She didn’t have time to process what caused it before her other nipple flamed with the same incredible heat. What had Spade done to her?
Denise glanced down and another cry wrenched from her. Drops of blood pearled on her nipples next to two distinct puncture marks. They throbbed with the most astonishing pleasure in accordance with her pulse. Somehow, Spade rubbed between her legs with exactly the same intervals as that throbbing, almost bringing her to orgasm right then.
Even so, a sliver of fear made its way through Denise’s haze of bliss. He’d bitten her. How much more of her blood could Spade drink before it threw him into a frenzy that would lead to him draining her, possibly even to death?
Spade’s mouth was stained red as he rubbed it between her breasts, leaving a faint crimson smear. Then he brought her closer, brushing his lips over hers.
“Kiss me,” he ordered in a thick voice.
Denise hesitated, torn between the urge to do just that and her instinctive aversion to tasting her blood on his mouth.
Spade’s hand moved from between her legs to pinch her nipple. The blast of heat that followed had her jerking back so hard, her head thunked on the floor. When he did it the second time to her other nipple, she was almost crying from the pleasure.
More. More. Don’t care if it kills me, just more.
“Kiss me.”
Denise slanted her mouth across Spade’s, licking his lips, tasting their coppery tang, and then running her tongue inside to tangle with his. He made a rough noise of need and slid forward, his hips opening her legs wider, free hand yanking down his pants.
The hard stroke inside her was so sudden, deep, and forceful that Denise bit Spade’s tongue in uncontrollable reflex. He groaned, thrusting again just as powerfully, sending a shudder of pleasure through her.
“So hot…so good.”
His growl in her ear made her shiver with its vehemence. She arched her hips in anticipation of his next thrust—and felt his tongue flicking between her legs instead.
Her eyes flew open in shock that Spade had slid down her body before she’d even noticed. Now her thighs cradled his head instead of his hips, his black hair covering his face as he laved her with firm, impossibly fast strokes.
“I don’t know what’s more addictive, your blood or your honey here,” his rough voice mused before another deep lick had her twisting in ecstasy.
Then a long, hard thrust made her cry out in the next heartbeat, Spade filling her so deeply, she choked back a sob. Another spine-bending stroke, then another, and then—
His mouth captured her below again, tongue lashing her flesh with the same hungry, sweet frenzy. Before she could cry out her passion, his hard flesh replaced his tongue, making her shudder at the powerful thrusts cleaving inside her.
Denise realized Spade had let go of her hands only when she found herself not knowing from one moment to the next if she’d be clutching his head or his hips. He moved in a blink, seamlessly alternating between taking her with his mouth or with those deep, mind-blowing thrusts. Her breasts throbbed while her loins twisted with the varying sensations bombarding them.
Spade reared up onto his knees, pulling her with him, hands closing over her hips to hold her upright as he began to thrust so fast, so forcefully, that tears spilled out of her eyes. Still, Denise wanted more. She couldn’t get enough of the wildness in him, how tightly he held her, or how his moans grew louder and more urgent. Her breasts bounced against his chest with every fervent, rapid stroke, nipples flaming from the friction of his shirt on the punctures. She was so close to coming. So close…
Fangs sank into her neck in the next instant. Before she could even be afraid, heat burst within her loins like a bomb going off, rocking her in wave after wave of ecstasy. Those spasms controlled her, made her oblivious to everything but the squeezing, throbbing sensations cascading from her center, filling her body with ripple after ripple of bliss. She didn’t know if Spade still drank from her, and she didn’t care. If this is dying, Denise thought, I highly recommend it.
Chapter Thirty-two
Don’t swallow. Don’t swallow.
Spade chanted it in his min
d each time he bit Denise, stemming her bleeding from the shallow punctures with a pinch of his fingers. The pressure forced the juice from his fangs deeper into her, increasing the pleasurable heat, until she was unaware of him wiping her blood off his mouth instead of swallowing it.
Even still, his first ingestion when she cut her lip left him feeling drunk, causing him to take her harder than he had previously—and how she responded further shredded his control. He’d never been so aroused by a woman, never lost himself so much as he did when he was inside Denise. She took away his will and replaced it with raging need, turning him from a controlled sexual connoisseur into a feverish greenhorn who could barely hold his seed. Spade climaxed right after she did, with a roar of satisfaction.
He rolled over to lie on his back, Denise half draped across his chest. She was gasping, her beautiful body flushed, fingers almost absently stroking her nipple. Midway through their lovemaking, her hands had changed back, smooth skin and bitten nails replacing those talons and sharp claws.
“Now, tell me about your compromise,” he said, knowing he’d agree no matter what it was.
“Give me a minute,” Denise replied, still out of breath.
Spade let out a short laugh. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” And he wasn’t. No matter how it might hurt later.
Her soft, warm hands touched his chest. “What do you—hey! My hands are back to normal. Lucky you; I’d probably have ripped up your back otherwise.”
He took one of her hands and kissed it. “It would have been worth it.”
She smiled, then her expression became serious. “When you walked out before, it was just because of our life spans being so out of whack once I get these brands off? Not that you have a problem with me being a different species than you?”
He could answer her question, but Spade knew another way to make Denise understand.
“I was in love in the eighteen hundreds. Giselda loved me, too, but she didn’t want to become a vampire. I thought with time, she’d change her mind. A year into our relationship, my sire needed me and I had to leave. But when the time drew near for my return, Giselda sent a message that she’d meet me at my home. On her way, she was stranded with her driver. They weren’t there long before the deserters came.”
Spade paused, that old grief and rage still rippling through him at the memory. Denise curled her hand around his.
“Tell me the rest, Spade.”
He pulled her to him, steadied by her nearness. “Giselda ran, trying to lose them in the forest, but they were faster. All five of them beat, raped, and sodomized her. Despite such a brutal assault, Giselda kept her wits about her. She pretended to be dead until she thought they’d gone. Then she dragged herself up and began to walk in the direction of my home. But the former captain came back to retrieve the sword he’d forgotten before in his haste to remove his trousers. He followed the trail of blood in the snow, and when he found Giselda, he cut her throat so deeply, he almost took her head off. Then he threw her body down a ravine. That’s where I found her. She was so covered in blood, I didn’t even recognize her at first glance.”
Denise took in a slow breath. “And just yesterday, Web held a knife to my throat. Oh God, the memories that must have been caused you—”
“Yes,” Spade said tightly.
Her hands were warm balms on his shoulders. “You’ve leaving something out. Giselda wouldn’t have been alive to tell you those kinds of details.”
Spade’s gaze didn’t waver from hers. “We learned them after Crispin and I captured the bastards and forced them to describe everything they’d done to her.”
Giselda had been avenged to the fullest, but as Denise would know all too well, revenge didn’t take away the pain.
Spade touched her face. If this was his chance to make her understand, he wouldn’t hold anything back.
“I managed to get through Giselda’s death, but I wouldn’t make it if I had to suffer through yours.”
Her eyes brightened with tears. “As I said, I don’t want to lose you, either. What if…I stayed human, but I didn’t age and I was harder to kill?”
Only one thing could be responsible for such a state, but he had to be sure. “You’d be willing to drink my blood?”
His voice was calm, belying his raging emotions. Denise nodded, reaching out to touch his neck with a light stroke.
“Yes.”
Spade couldn’t help it—he clutched her to him, relief pouring through his veins in an almost tangible sensation. If Denise drank from him every day, even a small amount, it would be enough to extend her life indefinitely. She could still be killed with more ease than a vampire, but with his blood, she could also be raised as a ghoul, were she to meet an untimely end…
“Does this mean we’re good?” Denise managed breathily.
He set her back, his relief turning to joy. “Yes. And I’m incredibly in love with you.”
She heard those words as if they echoed all through her. In love with you, in love with you, in love with you. Happiness as she never thought she’d feel again swept over her, making Denise smile even as Spade’s face became blurry through her tears.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
Her breath caught as Spade crushed her to him, rising and twirling her in a circle until her legs swung crazily. Denise laughed even though she could hardly breathe from his tight, possessive embrace.
“I never thought I’d feel this way again,” he whis pered in her ear. “Oh, darling, I feel like you’ve brought me back to life.”
His words were so reminiscent of how she felt that she choked back a sob. She’d felt that terrible, deadening emptiness for only fifteen months. How had Spade stood it, feeling it for almost a hundred and fifty years?
Guilt wormed its way inside her immediately after that thought. Shouldn’t it have taken her longer to love someone again? It had for Spade. Was she a bad person to feel this way so soon?
Spade set her back on her feet, gently smoothing her hair away from her face. “You’ll always love him,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “That doesn’t die just because he did, or because you now love me. Your love for him is part of who you are. It’s a beautiful part, Denise. Don’t be sad of it, and I will never be jealous of it.”
Denise’s eyes overflowed again. Spade was right. Randy and Giselda had made them who they were. Now they would leave the horror of their deaths behind, and, moving on, take only the best parts of them into the future…
“I want you to know if it was possible for me to change back to human, and that’s what you asked of me, I would,” Spade whispered. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to be with you, Denise. I’m sorry I can’t give you the normal life you wanted, but I promise to adore you every day for the rest of your new one.”
“I love you,” Denise choked, smiling when he kissed her with a passion and hunger that bent her spine back.
Three hard, loud bangs, followed by a bellow of “Open this door!” had her jumping in the next second, startled.
“What the hell?” Spade muttered, letting her go to fling the door open with a scowl.
Ian stood on the other side.
“What is wrong with you, banging on like that?” Spade demanded.
Ian cast a wicked look at Spade, who wore only his shirt, and then one at Denise as she hastily closed her robe.
“Paybacks,” Ian said succinctly. Then he walked away, whistling.
Spade watched Denise clear her plate, closing her eyes as she scraped off the last bite of banana cream pie. She had such a look of bliss on her face as she swallowed, Spade made a mental note to take a large slice upstairs with them later. And then spread it across his skin.
Crispin glanced up from his computer. “Mencheres is here.”
Spade rose, not sensing him yet, but trusting that Crispin was correct. Since Mencheres had shared his power with Crispin almost a year and a half ago, his friend could feel the other vampire much sooner than anyone e
lse.
After another minute or so, Spade felt the first sweep of energy in the air, faint at first, but distinctive, as Mencheres’s power reached out and found him. Something inside Spade clicked, a form of acknowledgment he’d recognize anywhere, even if he were among thousands of vampires. It grew stronger as Mencheres neared, until Spade could sense the other vampire’s emotions as well as the swirling, electrifying aura that distinguished Mencheres as one of the most powerful vampires in existence.
Such was the tie between Spade and Mencheres, the vampire who sired him.
Spade opened the door himself. In another minute, a silver Aston Martin rounded the corner of the driveway. When it stopped at the house, a black-haired Egyptian vampire climbed out with a grace that was impressive even for the undead.
“Spade,” Mencheres said, a smile creasing features that looked younger than Spade’s were, even though Mencheres was well over four thousand. “I can see you are happy again. I’m glad.”
Spade enfolded Mencheres into an embrace, used to the sizzling vibration such close contact elicited. His sire always felt like a walking lightning bolt.
“I’m very happy,” Spade replied, wishing the same for Mencheres. But sadness emanated from his sire, darkening his features with more melancholy than anyone who looked like he was in his early twenties should carry.
Denise hung back in the doorway. She’d been nervous about seeing Mencheres again. The last time had been that fateful New Year’s Eve, but Spade needed his sire if he wanted to get the demon-bone knife with the least amount of danger.
“Hi,” Denise said, looking so outwardly calm that if Mencheres couldn’t scent her unease—or read her mind—he’d never know of it.
“How lovely to see you again, Denise,” Mencheres greeted her, bowing.
Crispin welcomed his co-ruler more coolly than Spade had. He still hadn’t entirely forgiven Mencheres for his secrecy with Cat last year, but Crispin also knew how necessary Mencheres’s presence was. Web would be expecting an attack, so he’d be prepared, but even Web’s best defenses couldn’t stop Mencheres’s powers. The mega-Master vampire could freeze dozens of vampires into complete immobility with his telekinesis. With Mencheres’s help, Spade could stroll up and take the knife from Web without the other vampire even being able to blink to stop him. The only reason Spade hadn’t brought Mencheres on the raid to get Nathanial was that there wasn’t time for his sire to arrive.
First Drop of Crimson - Jeaniene Frost Page 26
