He set me down beside our massive bed, a fire in the fireplace already going and dozens of candles around the room, already filling it with the heady scent of vanilla. The multiple flickering orange lights masked the glow of his eyes and emphasized the desire in them. He stepped away from me, his hands trailing down the lace sleeves as he took me in. “That dress…is spectacular,” he murmured.
His eyes, combined with his feather-light touch down my arms, heated my core, made me start to burn with need for him. He inhaled deep, his eyes unfocused when they came back to mine. Stepping toward me, his body lightly brushing mine, he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Do you have any idea how good you smell…when you’re ready for me?” His nose ran up my bare throat, left purposefully unadorned for him, since my bare neck was what he preferred most, and a gasp escaped me, my knees feeling weak. “When you’re wet…because of me?”
I could only groan at his erotic words, speech not really capable in my brain anymore. His cool lips closed over an earlobe as his hands ran up my back, the chilly fingers tracing the heart outline between my shoulder blades, giving me goose bumps. As his mouth shifted back to mine and my fingers traveled up to that dark, thick hair, he started popping open the pearl buttons along my spine.
He did each one at a slow, human speed, and it took awhile; they went all the way down to my backside. Then, with our mouths never stopping, he slipped the satin and lace material off my shoulders. His fingers followed the fabric down my arms and my breath picked up with each new inch of skin exposed. When my arms were free, his fingers explored the ribbon corset highlighting my ample cleavage before he let the dress drop. When all that remained was a satiny white pool of symbolic purity, he pulled away from my mouth and gazed at my body. His face was anything but pure as he took me in.
His breath heavier, he trailed one finger along the strap of my snow white bra. Achingly slow, he followed the strap down to the cup. My chest heaving at this point, he dipped his finger into the cup, twisting it, so the cool pad could caress the twin wounds he’d made earlier. I gasped at the sensation and the memory, and attacked his mouth, ripping his jacket off in the process.
He lifted my body out of the remnants of my heavy dress and set me on the bed. Leaning over me, still kissing, he helped me remove his shirt and vest and other fabulous adornments. When only his lower body was dressed, he straightened and looked down at me. Under his powerful gaze, my shaking fingers went to the button of his pants and slowly unfastened them. His hand came up to run through a curl in my up-do and as I, amazingly slow, opened the zipper of his black slacks, he pulled out the pins keeping my hair in place.
At the same time that I freed his pants and pushed them down his hips, he freed my hair and fluffed out the curls around my shoulders. He left the tiara on. He kicked off his shoes and socks after stepping out of his pile of pants and then, only in his black boxer-briefs, he leaned over me again, until I leaned all the way back on the bed. He sighed and scooted me up to the middle, pausing only slightly, to rapidly toss the mountain of decorative pillows to the floor.
His fingers traveled from my plain white, virginal looking bra to my not so virginal abdomen, holding his twins safely deep inside. As his cool body explored every inch of my heated flesh, I explored every inch of his. My hand ducked inside his underwear, eager to feel how ready he was. He did not disappoint. My hand tightened around his cool erection as he groaned low in my ear. Then he pulled my hand away from him and crouched over me.
“Give me fifteen minutes,” he said, a playful grin on his face.
I frowned and sat up on my elbows. “Fifteen minutes? What for?”
His smile turned devilish. “It’s a surprise, one you’ll like.”
I kept up my frown, but his playful smile intrigued me. “Fine…but after fifteen minutes, I start without you.”
His smile dropped at that and his eyes dragged right down my body to stare at my underwear. I couldn’t help but tease him, so I ran a perfectly manicured finger over the most sensitive part of me. He blurred out of the room after that.
While he was gone, I completely undressed and spread myself over the luxurious silk sheets, having tossed the covers to the floor, and let the firelight dance along my bare skin, making shapes and patterns in the hills and valleys. I started to feel my long, emotional day catch up to me, and hoped that whatever he was doing, he did it soon before I fell asleep. That would not be a satisfying wedding night story to tell Tracey, not that I’d be telling her much anyway.
Just when I was wishing I had his super senses and I could either hear him or sense where he was, he blurred back into the room. I gaped at the sight of him, just as he gaped at the sight of me. He looked no different than before, but he was completely naked now in the doorway, and his magnificent body was still completely ready for me. My body was instantly ready again too as anticipation shot through me.
His eyes lingered on my nakedness spread over the bed for him as he walked towards me. “You’re so beautiful,” he muttered before crawling over me. I started to respond to that as my arms instinctually went to embrace him, but the words froze on my tongue. My eyes widened in shock as he laid down on top of me, a small grin on his face at my reaction.
He was warm.
Every extremity of my body wrapped around him as I tried to process the now odd sensation. He was warm, really warm, slightly above my temperature. While I loved the cool sensation of him against my skin, feeling him this way brought back every memory of when he was alive. My eyes started to water as I caressed every section of that skin that I could find.
“How…?”
He grinned as I continued mauling him. Leaning down, he brought warm lips to my ear and I shuddered as his hot mouth sucked on a lobe. “Hot tub,” he whispered.
It was only then that I noticed that the warm skin, while not damp, had that muggy feeling you get when you’ve been in water a long time. I also finally noticed that the edges of his hair was wet, not the top, just around the sides like he’d held his face under the water. I sighed contently and brought his mouth to mine. Even his tongue was warm.
“Oh my god, you’re so warm…you’re so warm.” My hand ran down to the lower part of him, still completely hard, and now completely warm. “Oh my god…”
My eyes started watering and he stopped his chuckling to look over me. Confusion passed his eyes as he dried my tears. “I thought you’d like this…I’m sorry.”
I immediately shook my head. “No, I do…I so do. I just…” I swallowed and made myself smile, made myself push back the emotion. “I love how you are…I even like the cold.” My hands tightened over his body, drawing him even closer to me. “But like this…” I sighed as I hugged his head to me. “You feel alive again, Teren.”
He exhaled and pulled back, gazing at me for a moment and then shaking his head. “I am alive, Emma.” He smiled softly and rested his warm forehead to mine. “I may not be living…but I am alive.”
He kissed me then, intently, like he could show me through physical contact what he meant. I reveled in him, in our mouths perfectly moving together, our hands clutching the other’s warm flesh, our breaths fast, our sounds full of need, and his warm arousal sliding along the warmth of mine as our hips rocked together…just one shift by either of us and we’d officially consummate this marriage.
Getting lost in his temperature, I pushed his head down my chest. “I need to feel your heat…everywhere.”
He groaned, obliging me with searing kisses down my body. “God, that’s hot,” he muttered into my skin. His hands and lips worked over my body, firing every sensitive stretch of skin he passed – a swell of my breast, a rigid nipple, the slight bulge of my stomach, the softness behind my knee, a tender spot on my inner thigh. And as his pleasantly warm tongue stroked and tasted the wetness between those thighs, I grabbed his head and loudly cried out, instantly grateful this house was empty.
As I came down off my orgasm, he flipped me over, bringing his attentions to th
e low of my back, my spine, my ribs, my shoulder blades. It was incredibly stimulating and I was instantly ready for him again. As his mouth sucked on his favorite part of my neck and his hands slid under me to caress my breasts, my head buried into my pillow and panting into the satin, I pushed my hips back into his warm ones, wanting him to enter me.
He growled low in my ear as his hands shifted to my hips, guiding me onto him. I gasped as his warmth filled me. His coolness was incredible, but so was him feeling alive again. He groaned and dropped his head to my shoulder, his warm chest resting flush to my back, heating me inside and out. His hips moved against me as I rocked back into him. I let him know exactly how incredible he felt to me and his left hand reached out to clutch mine. Our wedding bands clicked together as we grasped each other’s fingers, nearly feeling like we were drowning in the pleasure engulfing us.
He trailed warm kisses along my shoulder blades as he moved over me and I angled my hips up to him, allowing him deeper access. Sitting back on my knees slightly, I felt a little submissive in the position I was in, which also felt appropriate. I was his. I wanted him to claim me. I wanted him to own me. And with each deep, groaning thrust, he was.
But as he was nearing his climax, he pulled out, quickly twisting me around to enter me again, but with us facing each other. His mouth came down to mine and he groaned in relief as our bodies resumed their rhythm. I felt like I understood as I wrapped my legs around him. He didn’t want to come with me submissive. We were in this together, he wanted us to come together…as equals.
Breathing heavy in my ear, he muttered with a tight voice, “Oh god, Emma. It’s so….it’s so…”
His voice trailed off and I grabbed his head, muttering, “I know, I know, baby.”
And I did know. We’d made love dozens of times. I mean, he’d already successfully impregnated me, but this, making love right now, it felt completely different and new. It felt like the first time. No, better than the first time, better than anytime. I wasn’t sure why that was, but being with him like this, as his wife, was such a deeper connection than I ever expected to feel during sex.
I clutched him tight as I felt a second orgasm rising in me, almost scared to feel the intensity of it; I could even feel the tears rise in me. His hand reached over to grab mine, left to left again, and he squeezed us tight, his body rigid and lightly shaking with the force of the release building inside of him. Feeling more confident that we were going into this together, I relaxed the hold on my body and let the explosion hit me. And it was an explosion, bigger than anything I’d ever felt before, ever. I let out a long cry filled with all of the love and ecstasy that I felt pouring through me.
He continued to move in me, possessing me, filling me, overwhelming me, and then a moment later, his body stilled and he cried out, his moans matching my own, his orgasm as intense as mine. I felt the release as he spilled inside of me and nearly sighed that that also, was warm. With panting breaths and slight rocking movements, we maintained the sensation as long as our spent bodies would hold onto it, and then the feeling ebbed and only peace and satisfaction remained. And a whole lot of love. Always that.
He stayed on my chest, stroking my hair and kissing my forehead as I reveled in his still warm body on top of me. “I love you, wife,” he said into my hair.
I looked up at him, the tears still in my eyes finally rolling down my cheeks. “I love you too, husband.”
Chapter 8
Acceptance and Rejection
I stirred under slick, satiny sheets. In my mind, I wasn’t in a luxurious bed, though. No, in my semi-conscious state I was floating in a pool of light red liquid. The sun was bright in the cloudless sky and as I experimentally moved, the water, while warm directly around me, became cooler farther away from my body. And unlike any liquid in real life, it supported my weight, cradled me like a waterbed – a tropical fruit punch waterbed. Somewhere in the distance, I heard birds calling and waves lapping, and as I basked under the glorious rays of the sun, I trailed my fingers through the oddly supportive red water, beads of it splashing over my bare skin, turning portions of me a speckled pink.
I laughed at the oddness of it all and a deep laugh answered me. Turning my head, I saw Teren lying next to me, supported in the strange liquid as well. He turned his head to gaze at me, his blue eyes and dark hair in sharp contrast to the red water. He smiled, his fangs pure white and casually long, then rolled over the springy water to lie over the top of me. With a soft sigh, he dropped his head to the crook of my neck. His scratchy stubble against the sensitive skin of my collarbone started bringing me to awareness.
He was real. The red lake was not, but he was real.
The haze of my dream lifted as my legs stirred in the sheets again, this time recognizing the fabric as our bed, and not a fruit punch pool. My eyes still closed, I also recognized the weight on top of me, and the smell - that light cologne scent that Teren had been wearing yesterday, the day we got married. Inhaling, still more asleep than awake, I let out some sort of mumbled greeting to my husband. His head still buried in my neck, I felt the rumble through his chest in response.
Neither one of us being more than slightly conscious, I wrapped my arms around him. His body, while not nearly the temperature he’d been last night, was still on the sort-of lukewarm side, and I sleepily indulged in the feeling of him over every bare inch of me. His hands wrapped under my body in response and we held each other as we drifted through phases of light sleep.
As I fluttered in and out, my legs instinctively opened to him. As he fluttered in and out, he instinctively pressed himself against me. Neither of us speaking, one of my hands trailed down his broad back to rest at his hip, while one of his slid down my spine, curving around my pelvis to rest on my knee. He gently brought my leg around him as he settled himself more perfectly over me.
I exhaled slow as his ready body gently pushed into mine. He let out a deep sigh, sounding more like a man relaxing back into his favorite recliner, than a man making morning love to his wife. Perfectly content. With our eyes still closed, his head still buried in my neck, we began to move together. It was slow and languid, neither one of us really striving towards anything, just enjoying the feeling of being so intimately connected.
We stayed that way, silently and slowly rocking together, between the cool satin sheets and the warm, down filled quilt, for a long, blissful eternity. Just when I could feel a deep, slow buildup starting, another part of my body decided to speak up first.
One hundred percent wide awake now, I stiffened board-straight underneath him. Confused, he stopped moving and raised his head, blinking sleepily at me. “Emma?”
His tired eyes tried to focus on mine, but he was still groggy and slow moving, and my body needed him to move much quicker. One hand flew to cover my mouth and the other shoved back his shoulder, pushing him off of me. He instantly retreated, understanding that I was about to lose it on him if he didn’t. Without looking back, I shot up off the bed and stumbled my way to the bathroom. I just barely made it into the private room with the toilet.
I was so ready for this part of pregnancy to be over with.
Almost immediately, his now cool hands were running up and down my back. I looked at him over my shoulder as I panted into the bowl, sort of hating him for putting me in this position. He smirked at my expression and pointed at the swirling water I’d just flushed down. “Sorry, did I do that?” His voice was sweet and innocent, but the twinkle in his eye was not.
Glaring at him as I sat back on my heels, I put a hand on my stomach and raised an eyebrow. “You know you did.”
“Sorry.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all.
I wanted to complain a bit, but then he swept me into his arms and treated me to a nice, relaxing, soapy shower. As he washed my hair and massaged my back, I just couldn’t find the words to complain anymore. When I was clean and feeling human again, he wrapped me in a huge, fluffy robe and put me back in bed. Then he blurred away and left me alone
. I wanted to complain about that too, until ten minutes later he came back with bacon, eggs and a plate of waffles. I love my husband.
He seemed to love me too. As I scarfed down my food in our bed, he played with my wedding band, a loving, peaceful look on his face the entire time he twisted my ring in never-ending circles. When I was full and finished, and positive it would stay down, I set my plate on the nightstand and proceeded to finish what I’d so rudely halted this morning.
This time, I made it through without getting sick.
His family stayed away for the bulk of the day. Well, for Halina and Imogen it wasn’t really a choice, they were stuck wherever they were until the sun set, but Jack and Alanna stayed away, giving us our newlywed space. And we needed it. We didn’t leave the room much, or the bed for that matter. We lounged, laughed, talked, made love, napped, played card games and made love again, all afternoon long. It was bliss. Pure, romantic, we-just-got-married bliss.
Teren did slip out of our oasis once or twice (dressed only in a pair of loose lounge pants, which was a delightfully yummy sight) to get a bite to eat. I let him leave by himself, taking the time he was gone to call my mom and sister. I sort of wanted to call Tracey, just to talk to Ben, to make sure he was okay, but I suppose that could wait. I mean, Teren and I had already kind of had our honeymoon, and today would be all I was going to get, so I was going to enjoy every darn minute.
Conversion Book Two: Bloodlines Page 17
