“Stop what?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze from him. “Staring at your privates?”
“Yes. Stop it. It’s annoying me.”
She entered the room and closed the door behind her, her eyes still on his growing length. “Actually, I think it’s arousing you, unless you can be annoyed and aroused at the same time. Gray?”
“What?” he snapped, not moving to cover himself, a fact that Noelle highly appreciated. She was aware that Johannes was curled up on the bed, watching them, but she had eyes only for the tortured, delicious vampire before her.
“I’m not going to give up on you,” she managed to say, which was a miracle considering that her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. “I know you’re trying to drive me away, but I’m not going to let you do that. You need me. I can help you. I’m a Guardian, and your Beloved, whether you want to admit it or not, and you can either be miserable and irritating and unhappy and refuse to let me help you—which won’t matter, because I’ll help you anyway—or you can realize that you’ve been blessed and get down on your knees and thank me daily for making your life worth living again.”
He looked for a moment as if he was going to explode.
“Was the knees bit too much?” she asked, worried for a moment that he might do himself some sort of damage if he kept all that anger bound inside.
“Yes,” he said in a choked voice. To her surprise, however, he didn’t scream and yell or deny any of what she said. He simply marched over to the bed, picked up the cat, and put him into the adjoining room before closing the door. He strode toward her, his eyes glittering, and before Noelle could ask him if he was really very annoyed with her, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed, following her down onto the mattress.
“Gracious me, what . . . oh, Gray!” Her eyes rolled backward as he pulled her sleep shirt over her head, leaving her clad in nothing but a scanty pair of satin underwear. His mouth descended upon one suddenly heavy, wanting breast, while his fingers stroked and teased the other one. She clutched at his head, her back arching up.
So soft. He groaned as his tongue tormented her breast, making it ache with a need she had never before known. So warm.
You’re hungry again. She was amazed that she could form words in the face of such wonderful sensations. It was as if his hands and mouth were made of fire, sending tendrils of heat radiating out of her chest and down her belly to deep, secret places.
I’m always hungry when I’m near you. The voice of his thoughts in her mind was as rough as sandpaper, his breath growing ragged as he switched breasts, his hand stroking downward, feeling her belly before sliding even lower to tease the source of her heat.
You may want to drink my blood, but I want to bite you all over, she answered, squirming when his fingers moved beneath her underwear to find sensitive flesh.
He lifted his head from her breast, an odd look in his lovely green eyes. “No one has ever bitten me.”
She grinned and pushed at his shoulders until he obliged and rolled over onto his back, a quizzical frown between his brows. She got to her knees, quickly divesting herself of her underwear before leaning over his chest, taking a moment to swirl her tongue over his pert little nipples. He sucked in his breath. “Christos, woman!”
“You think that’s good? Let’s try this . . .” Her teeth closed gently around one nipple. Grayson almost came off the bed, his mind filled with a desperate need that was echoed in her own head.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Gray growled as he grabbed her by her hips and pulled her over his body. “Ride me!”
“I beg your pardon?” Noelle moaned and closed her eyes as the length of his arousal pressed along parts that were suddenly sensitized beyond human belief. Goodness, Gray!
He reached between them, shifting her upward and placing himself in position. “Ride me!”
She wanted to; oh, how she wanted to. There was nothing more she wanted at that moment than to sink down on the hard length of him, to taste him, to give herself up to the passion that only he seemed to be able to stir in her. But she had to be sure he wanted her, really wanted her.
“Yes!” he shouted, urging her hips downward even as he thrust up. “I want you, you delicious, seductive woman. I’ll curl into a ball and dry up into dust, blowing away into nothing, if you don’t take me into you right this second. Open for me, sweet. Let me into your warmth. Fill me with your light.”
The images he was projecting into her head were too much. She sank down on him, her body welcoming the hard invader, muscles rippling around him in a way that had both of them moaning with ecstasy. And then he pulled her forward, down onto his chest, his mouth hot on her neck for a second before white-hot pain burst into a feeling so erotic that it pushed her over the edge into an orgasm.
She collapsed onto him, her body boneless, her mind so overwhelmed with their shared emotions that she could do little but attempt to breathe when he gave a hoarse cry of completion. She did manage to lift her head enough to press a kiss on his damp chest, but even that act seemed too much, because it took her a long, long time to recover.
Slowly, and with muscles that trembled from the unexpected activity, she sat up, her eyes immediately widening. “Dear Lord, you’re still inside me.”
“Don’t . . . move . . .” Gray growled, clutching the sheets beneath him. “If you move, I’m going to make love to you again, and you’ve drained every last bit of strength from me. I am as weak as a newborn kitten, as soft as a bowl of jelly. I can’t even make my brain work.”
Noelle shifted her hips, just a little, just to see if she was going to be even the teensiest bit tender after holding him so deep inside her. But her muscles, slowly relaxing from the death grip upon him, sent up a little cheer of happiness and expressed willingness to regroup. “Goodness,” she whispered, rocking forward, her eyes closed as she focused on the sensation of him.
Gray lurched beneath her, and suddenly, she was on her back.
“No,” he said, pulling her legs over his shoulders as he thrust into her. “No, we are not doing this again. It is impossible to contemplate. Stop trying to seduce me, you vixen.”
At the feel of him moving against her, her body tightened again, the pressure building quickly into another moment of rapture. “I’ve never been multi-orgasmic,” she panted as his hips flexed with short, hard little movements that had her eyes crossing. “Oh, dear Lord, yes, do that again.”
“I will not.” He moaned, making the little swivel that hit all sorts of sensitive spots inside her. “I am going to sleep now. You have worn me out with your lusty demands.”
“Glrn,” she babbled, aware that she wasn’t making any sense but unable to do anything about it. Her body spiraled into another orgasm that shook her to her toes, making her shout when Gray turned his head and bit the leg that lay over his shoulder. “I’ve got to . . . I have to . . . Gray, we have to Join. Now.” Her voice trailed off into another moan of pleasure, the sensation of his own climax while he fed from her simply too much.
I can’t do that to you.
You don’t have a choice, she answered, grabbing his head when he let her legs slide off his shoulders, twining her tongue around his before nipping the end of it.
He jerked back, his eyes wide as she sucked the tip of his tongue, savoring the spicy, sweet taste of his blood. Christ, woman, do you know what you’ve done?
Yes. We’ve done all the steps of Joining except the sacrifice, and I’ll do that just as soon as I figure out what sort of sacrifice I’ll need to make.
She could feel the conflicted emotions within him—fear, anger, and a grudging admission that the attraction he felt for her was something more than mere lust. She drifted into a haze of sleepy satisfaction, pleasured to the tips of her toes, and was only half aware when Gray pulled the blankets of the massive bed over them, one arm around her waist as she lay limply against him.
He had accepted her. She just knew he had. Life was going to be wonderf
ul now.
Chapter Five
I hate it when I’m wrong about things,” Noelle told Teresa a short eight hours later, as the two women sat watching while Miles walked back and forth in front of them, ranting about how he was simply trying to save them all, the TV show, and the house.
“No one will listen to me, that’s the problem with all of you,” he snapped as he paced past them.
“What’s wrong now?” Teresa asked in a low tone, dutifully nodding when Miles demanded to know if she was paying attention.
Noelle waited until he strode past, continuing his rant, before answering in a whisper, “Well, for one, Gray disappeared this morning. One minute he was there, doing the most incredible things to me, and the next he was gone, his side of the bed still warm.”
“His side of the—Noelle!” Teresa gasped in an undertone, shooting her friend an astonished look. “You didn’t sleep with him? You did! You slept with him, and you just met him! That is so not like you!”
“I told you that we have a bit of an odd relationship,” Noelle answered, unable to keep her cheeks from pinkening a little. “We have, for lack of a better word, a connection, and last night, Gray finally admitted it. Well, I thought he did, but maybe the fact that he disappeared this morning means he’s still in denial. Although we did complete all the steps, so that must mean he can’t go far.”
“What steps?” Teresa asked, watching with a falsely rapt expression as Miles continued to expound about some theory of his regarding the danger they were all in from some facts he’d uncovered.
Noelle hesitated. She desperately needed someone to talk to, and since Grayson was hiding from her, Teresa was the only choice. “Gray’s . . . er . . . people have a long tradition regarding courtship. There are seven steps that have to be completed before we’re considered Joined.”
“Joined?”
“It’s another term for a couple.”
“Huh. Odd family. Must be old Czech traditions or something. What are these steps?”
Noelle ran her mind over them, everything from the protecting her against the threat posed by the demon lord who had vitiated him, to the body fluid exchanges, right on down to the exchange of blood. “Most of them are just minor things, like . . . erm . . . kissing and other courtship rituals, but that’s really neither here nor there. According to the rules that govern his people, we’re now officially a couple, and men who are part of such a relationship shouldn’t just go haring off on their own.”
Teresa giggled, then immediately donned a somber face when Miles, in full rant, shot her a suspicious look. “You really haven’t dated much, have you? That’s how men are, Noelle.”
Not Dark Ones bound to a Beloved, Noelle thought, but she kept that to herself. Later, when Miles had stormed off in a hissy fit because Teresa insisted they stay for the remainder of their time on the lease despite his nebulous claims that the ghosts of the house posed some horrible, unnamed threat to them all, she spent a few hours ridding the house of the imp packs that had taken up residence. That she was also not-so-covertly searching for signs of the missing Gray was something she shrugged away. They were bound together now, whether he liked it or not.
She was in the garden when Nosty found her.
“There you are, my sweet one,” he said as he sashayed up to her, making her a bow that was courtly despite his being clad in the worn gray habit. “Were you by chance waiting here for me?”
“No, I’m hunting for Gray. You haven’t seen him today, have you?” She cast a glance upward at the cloudless sky. “Not that I’d expect to see him out in the sun, but I can’t find him in the house and thought perhaps he’d come out into the garden for some peace and quiet.”
“Eh,” Nosty said, immediately looking bored. “He’s probably gone to see Lady Joan.”
“The ghost you visit?” Noelle frowned. “Why would he want to see her?”
Nosty’s expression changed to one of impish amusement. He winked and moved off toward the house. “You’ll have to ask the Dark One that.”
“Really,” she said slowly, sensing a mystery. She loved mysteries—loved unraveling them, that is. “Oh, Nosty, I meant to ask you, how many other spirits are there in the house? I have no way of sensing their presence, and Miles is making a nuisance of himself with Teresa, saying we’re all in dire danger of who-knows-what if we don’t leave the house to the ghosts.”
“Other spirits?” Nostredame shook his head. “There are no other spirits but me in the Abbey. Lady Joan’s domain is in her cottage, and the house dada has moved to another estate entirely because all of the decay here made him emo.”
Noelle ignored the idea of a moody domestic spirit, asking only, “Are you sure? Miles seems very insistent.”
“Do you think I would not know if there were others in my haunt?”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to impugn your ghostly abilities,” she apologized, which he accepted with haughty grandeur before moving off toward the house.
“Another mystery,” Noelle said with satisfaction, shaking herself as she drew her mind back to the one that was most important: Gray. Perhaps he, too, was visiting the ghost Nosty had mentioned. If nothing else, she might have some idea of where Gray had gone.
Nosty had said that Lady Joan’s spirit was confined to her cottage on the north side of the estate, but given how big the grounds were, it wasn’t until the afternoon shadows had stretched long, inky fingers across the overgrown lawn and minute cottage garden that she found the place.
The cottage itself was mostly overrun with trumpet vines, wisteria, and honeysuckle, the thatched roof long since sunken into the center of the stone walls. One wall was entirely gone, the other three still standing but stained green and black with age. Noelle approached the tangled remains slowly, having to beat a path to the gaping blackness that was once a doorway. As she neared it, a profound sense of sadness seemed to leach up from the ground, choking her with its hopelessness. She stopped, goose bumps on her arms. Even the most unknowing of mundane mortals would know this was a haunted place.
“Hello? Lady Joan? My name is Noelle, and I’m a Guardian. I was told by Nostredame that you like to talk to people now and again.”
Silence hung thick and heavy in the air, and it struck Noelle then that despite the cottage being nestled in a stand of willows, there was no birdsong, no distant drone of either cars or airplanes. Bees flitted around the honeysuckle and trumpet vine, but their hum, if any, was too muted to be heard. Quiet wrapped around the cottage as thick as cotton wool, merging with sadness and despair to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Noelle shook her head against the fanciful thoughts. She was a Guardian, a keeper of a portal to hell itself. She had seen and bested beings much more frightening than one simple forlorn ghost. “Lady Joan?”
Tiny little motes of dust seemed to gather in on themselves, swirling around in the air and thickening until the figure of a spirit slowly resolved itself into that of a woman clad in a long, flowing gown, topped with a simple surcoat. “A . . . Guardian?” the ghost said after a moment of considering Noelle. Her voice was so soft that for a moment, Noelle thought she’d only imagined she heard the sound. It floated high, more like a gentle caress of the wind than an actual sound. “No, more than a Guardian. A Beloved.”
“That’s right. My name is Noelle, Lady Joan. I’ve come to talk to you about Gray Soucek.”
“Grayson? You wish to talk about Grayson?” The ghost sucked in her breath, her form wavering for a moment before it solidified. “You are his Beloved?”
Noelle couldn’t tell by her expression if the woman was happy or angry about that. “Yes, I am. You do know Gray, don’t you?”
Lady Joan gave a silent laugh that filled Noelle with more sadness than she thought possible. “He is my son, Beloved. He is my son, my only child, one whom I loved more than even the man I adored until the day I ceased to draw breath.”
“You’re his mother? Oh, then that explains how you knew
I was a Beloved. You must be one . . . er . . . no, wait, that isn’t right, is it?” Noelle frowned at her obvious faux pas. “I’m so sorry. I really put my foot in my mouth that time, didn’t I? Gray is an unredeemed Dark One, which means you weren’t his father’s Beloved. How tragic for you.”
The ghostly Lady Joan acknowledged this by closing her eyes for a moment, pain etched in her face. “I am bound to tragedy, Beloved, but you, at least, have brought me the joy of knowing my Grayson has a future where his father did not.”
Noelle shivered despite the heat of the day, the shadows now consuming the cottage as the sun began to drop into the horizon. “I hope he does. I mean, he does, but right now he’s being . . . well . . . I don’t quite know what he’s being. We’ve done the seven steps of Joining, so all that remains before he gets his soul back is for me to make some sort of a sacrifice for him, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in order to achieve that. And Gray is being really tight-lipped because he didn’t want to have a Beloved due to him being vitiated, which is understandable, although not at all necessary. Since I’m a Guardian, that is. Do you happen to know where he is?”
Lady Joan looked somewhat dazed by the wall of conversation that just hit her, but after a moment of sorting through it, she shook her head. “I have not seen Grayson since the day . . . since the day he left. He was so angry, so unyielding . . .” The ghost actually wrung her hands as she spoke, an act that made Noelle feel quite unnerved.
“What day was that, if you don’t mind me asking? Or, rather, what happened that day? You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal, although I have to admit now to being really curious about why you would be here in spirit form but your son wouldn’t want to see you. It doesn’t seem like Gray at all, because underneath all that denial, he’s really a very nice person, but I’m sure you know that. Did you two have a falling out? Was there some sort of an argument? Was it about a demon lord, by any chance? Did—”
Before she could continue firing questions at the morose spirit, the sounds of a large body moving through the undergrowth disturbed the silence that hung so heavily over the cottage. Noelle stepped backward a few feet to eye the shadow that emerged from the trees, prepared for the worst—a demon—but filled with joy when she recognized the bulky shape as it stepped out from the darkest shadows.
The Undead in My Bed Page 5
