by Irina Argo
In response, she bent over and slid her panties off, then straightened and removed her bra. Tossing both to the side, she faced him, completely naked.
Tor swallowed, hard.
“Why can’t we do this?” She stepped forward until their bodies were almost touching again. Her lips whispered across his chest, and she put her arms around him gently, barely touching him.
Tor was losing this battle.
“No, Arianna, I can’t. Let me go ... ” He wanted to pry her hands from his body, but his own hands wouldn’t cooperate.
Suddenly she released him from her embrace, took his hand, and led him into the bedroom. His body followed obediently, ignoring the protests of his rational mind. She let her hand slip from his and then slid onto the bed.
She lay on her side, regarding him, elbow bent, palm supporting her head, her other arm draped languidly on her hip, innocent and sensual at the same time. And although she was totally still, Tor could feel her calling him, her Amiti energies opened to him. She lay here on his bed, emitting warmth and affection for him—and something much deeper Tor couldn’t name. Was it love?
Shame roiled through him like thunderclouds, overwhelming him so that he shrank back and covered his face with his hands as if hiding from her.
He’d planned this, all of it. He’d put her through hell to get her to love him, to love him for his own selfish purposes. It was true. Well, here she was, offering herself to him. He’d almost reached his goal. So why didn’t he feel victorious?
And then a revelation crashed through him. He wanted her to love him—really love him, for all that he was. Not because he’d managed to manipulate her into it.
Feeling dizzy, he lay down next to her and held her, merging with her, breathing through the veil of her hair, praying that she wouldn’t sense his frustration.
But the more he tried to silence it, the stronger it grew.
The images sped up, flashing through his brain: he saw her in the bloodstock cell, being drained and degraded, abused by Khay, that vicious bastard—who they’d said could do anything he wanted as long as she didn’t die—biting her lips from the pain, crying alone in her cot.
And it was all his fault.
“Khay will die. I’ll kill him myself,” Tor whispered, but it was he who deserved death. “I swear to you, you’ll get his head.”
“No. Don’t do that. He’s mine. As long as we’re blood-bonded, I own him. I get to say whether he lives or dies. If you kill him, it takes away that power.”
“So why don’t you do it?”
“It’s not time yet. And besides, I like knowing that he lives in fear, that I could kill him at any time. But—what’s this?” She touched his cheek, and only then did Tor notice that it was wet.
* * *
“Are you crying? For me?”
He was feeling her pain. And, Goddess, it was more than compassion Arianna felt emanating from him in waves; it was ... feelings she didn’t dare name..
Why? Wasn’t this what she’d wanted all along—for him to fall in love with her so she could gain control over him? Well, yes ... but that plan seemed so distant compared to him, here, now, crying for her. She tried to recall her purpose, but it was like trying to recall a distant memory.
She gave up and just let herself feel, but there was no relief there, either; her heart flooded with a whirlpool of feelings she was too frightened to even contemplate.
So she just took his face in her hands and began collecting his tears with her lips.
* * *
Tor stopped thinking; he simply allowed himself to be in the moment, let his whole body bask in this expression of love.
Then, leaning over her, he slid his hands along her smooth curves, projecting all of his love into every stroke. He smothered her with kisses, starting at her forehead, then moving down to her eyelids, cheeks, lips. His mouth stopped on her jugular.
“Take my vein,” Arianna exhaled. “Make love to me. I want to be yours; take all of me ... ”
Tor slid his hand between her legs, watching her reaction as his fingers found the slick, yielding flesh of her core. She gasped and her breath hitched, her head leaned back, mouth half open. How much he wanted to give everything to this girl: every pleasure, all the love and joy that had been missing in her life because of him.
Overcoming his bloodlust, he broke contact with her throat and moved lower down, to her breasts, catching her hard nipples between his hot lips.
* * *
Arianna was drowning in a pleasure she hadn’t ever thought possible as Tor’s hand glided between her legs, his fingers slipping inside of her to work their magic while his mouth tended to her breasts, his tongue circling and flicking her nipples. Then he moved lower, covering her stomach with kisses, punctuating the kisses with gentle bites, the soft scrape of his fangs making her gasp. With a flush of embarrassment, she realized where this was going—but then his mouth replaced his hand and a jolt of pleasure like an electrical current ran through her body, arching her back and lifting her head off the pillow. Her thighs went numb, and she surrendered to him and the experience he was giving her, trusting him with her soul.
The skin between her legs was fire and ice, molten and shivering, oversensitive and demanding, and everywhere he touched brought a new array of sensation, a new explosion of pleasure. His skillful tongue moved around her entrance, then inside, and then it was teasing her clit and then moving again, his hand holding her wide open to his mouth, until her whole body existed in another dimension, maybe heaven, or maybe stopped existing at all, dissolving until she was nothing and everything at the same time.
Tor brought her to climax again and again, one orgasm coming right after the next, until she felt as if her body might dissolve into jelly and made him stop.
He kissed his way up her body until he was lying next to her, and she snuggled her body tight against his. They stayed like that for a long, long moment.
When she finally felt that she had control over her limbs again, she started to push up onto her elbows, but he pulled her back to him.
She lifted her head to look at his face. “What about you? I want you to enjoy it, too.”
“I did, more than you’ll ever know.” He hugged her tightly.
“I feel you’re avoiding me. Is it because of the blood-bond? Don’t you want me for your blood-bond?”
He pulled away to meet her eyes, his gaze serious. “There’s nothing in the world I want more.”
“Then I offer you the blood-bond, Tor.” She laid her head on his chest and put her hand over his heart.
“No.” He gently returned her head to the pillow and looked into her eyes again. “Listen to me. I feel that if I accept, I’ll lose you. I’ve been waiting for you far too long. But our blood-bond will unlock your powers, and as soon as you have them, you’ll leave. I know this. You can’t lie to me, Arianna: you’ll leave me.”
She thought for a moment before replying. “The truth is, I am conflicted. I don’t know. I truly don’t. I feel torn. One part of me wants to stay with you forever as your blood-bond and mate. But another part ... ” She paused.
“What about the other part?”
“It tells me to fight you, that I must fight Sekhmi to free my people.”
“My wonderful little Arianna, don’t be so naïve.” Tor stroked her hair. “You can’t fight me, never mind fighting all Sekhmi. The Vampire Elite is too powerful.
“And besides, haven’t you suffered enough? Can’t you just relax and think about your own happiness?” Possessively, holding her head with both hands, he put his mouth on hers and parted her lips with his, kissing her passionately. “Just let me do it. Let me make you happy. You’ll forget everything; you’ll live in a world of bliss.”
Arianna listened to him with her eyes closed, hearing only the seductive sound of his voice, not the words he spoke. She was completely immersed in the erotic sensations he’d evoked in her, discovering a whole new
universe of sensuality that felt divine and left every part of her body, her heart, and her soul singing for more.
“Tor, be with me. I want you ... “
For a moment she feared that he’d hold back, but to her relief he obeyed. In a flash his remaining clothes were gone and he was leaning over her, supporting his weight on his elbows.
“Open yourself to me,” he ordered.
Not breathing, she spread her legs, sensing a powerful possessive rush surging through him and then circling back through her. He pressed his hardness to her core and then stilled, leaving her writhing with anticipation and fearing his next move.
Abruptly, he thrust into her, hard, and she could practically hear his inner beast howl in triumph. His fingers dug into her thighs, pulling her up to meet his thrusts, and her body tightened in response, her back arching and fingernails sinking into his back, breaking the skin, releasing the bitter, intoxicating scent of his blood into the air.
His head snapped up, the vampire reacting to the trigger. He caught her gaze with his and she found herself trying to pull back, to withdraw, frightened by the fire in his eyes, the naked, unbridled desire to own her. But he held her tight; it was too late to pray for mercy. She had asked for it. She had provoked him.
Clenching her thighs so tightly that they were almost numb, he pulled back and then thrust again and again, forcing himself deeper into her with every thrust, declaring his claim on her. Arianna’s body shuddered with pleasure, wild savage joy filling her, the scent of her arousal hovering in the air mingling with that of his blood. Someone was crying out, pleasedon’tstop, pleasedon’tstop. It was her.
His hand slid down between her legs and stopped on her clit, his fingers brushing, circling, and she felt herself falling from the sky, hitting the hard surface of the planet and shattering into billions of pieces that hovered suspended in the air, shimmering.
He gathered the pieces together and flipped her over, positioning her on her knees and slamming back into her, one hand grabbing her ass and the other reaching for her breasts, massaging and pinching her nipples. She felt her body tightening and swelling around him, heard her cries growing louder as she shoved her hips back to meet his thrusts, shamelessly demanding more. There was a beast living inside her, too, she realized, and it wanted to possess him, to have this male all to herself, for her own pleasure, whenever she wanted him, any time. All the time. Mine, she heard the she-beast roar. Mine, it roared again and again as they were swept along in torrents of rapture.
Chapter 49
When Arianna came back to herself, she was lying on her back, her head on the pillow, feeling strange in a way she couldn’t identify. Tor draped himself over her body, nuzzling her between her breasts and then laying his head there as if to hear her heartbeat. But then, just as she expected him to sigh and relax, he was back up again, stalking out of the room without a word. What the hell?
She didn’t just feel strange, she felt wrong. She felt overheated, as though she had a fever, and ... swollen, as if her blood pressure was way too high or she’d just swallowed a bathtub full of salt water. Her limbs were shaking, and her body was raging as though from intense exertion.
Tor returned holding an intricately carved ebony box. “Sorry. Here, take this.”
Again: what the hell? She just stared at him, not taking the box, distracted by whatever it was that her body was doing, squirming a little.
Tor’s expression changed, his eyebrows lifting and his mouth softening, a strange blend of sympathy and incredulity.
“You need to let your blood go. Didn’t anyone ever tell you what happens in Amitis’ bodies during lovemaking??”
She shook her head. Marcus had taught her a lot, but sex? Not so much. He’d probably intended to tell her, but hesitated until it was too late.
“Your body generates blood for others who need it.”
“A vampire. You.” Of course: Amiti physiology was designed to feed vampires without depleting the Amiti.
“So what do I do?” Maybe this would be what got him to blood-bond with her, out of mercy? Or would he let her suffer? “What’ll happen if I don’t share my blood?”
“You won’t die, of course, but you’ll feel sick until your body gets back to equilibrium, absorbs the excess blood.” He opened the box he’d been holding, revealing an assortment of blood-draining equipment and a small dagger. “It’s in your power to control your body’s blood production, just as you can will your blood cells to produce certain effects in a vampire’s body. We don’t feed on you every time we make love, you know. Here,” he said, handing her the dagger. “Use this; the catheter will only make you feel like ... like bloodstock.”
“You want me to cut myself?”
“It’s what Amiti do to get rid of their extra blood before they learn to control it. It’s a normal procedure.”
Normal procedure, huh?
Unexpectedly, a thrill of excitement flushed through her. She knelt on the bed and, taking the knife, held it to her palm, preparing to slice, and locked eyes with Tor. Interesting: what would he do when blood began pouring from her? Faint? Run away? Attack her?
Tor’s gaze moved from her eyes to her hand and back again, and she could sense his beast stirring. He swallowed, got out of bed, pulled his pants on, and walked to the door. So he was running? Hmm, she’d expected better.
“Tor, wait,” she called.
He stopped without turning to face her.
“So, you just want me to ...?” Bleed onto your bed? She gestured down at the bed, unable to articulate the end of the question. When he nodded, she gathered herself and slipped the knife across her palm. It didn’t hurt at all, was almost a pleasure—maybe her body understood what was happening—so she began moving the knife along her body, slicing her skin with multiple tiny cuts. She could smell her own blood in the air. Tor wheeled around, nostrils flaring, eyes wide and hungry.
“I know you don’t want to blood-bond,” she told him, dropping the dagger. “But I want to feed you anyway. Come here. Taste me.” It wouldn’t create a blood-bond unless his fangs pierced her vein. But if he tasted her blood, wouldn’t he long for more?
She imagined him holding her and drinking from her; her legs around his waist and his cock pumping into her as her body in turn pumped hot blood into his mouth. And she was doing it not because she wanted to kill him—oh, no—but because it was her nature to take care of him, to give him what he was missing, to breathe life into him. She almost choked from the savage excitement that filled her.
“You love torturing me, don’t you?” Tor’s eyes narrowed, masking their glow.
For a few minutes they just faced each other like that: Arianna kneeling on the bed, her spine straight, breasts tight and nipples hard, as streams of blood painted her skin red, and Tor standing a few steps away just staring at her, his face showing no emotion. Didn’t he feel the pull of the blood-bond? She could barely restrain herself from launching at him! He must be deaf not to hear her body screaming for him. Damn him.
“Enough,” he finally said. “You must feel better now.” And to her surprise, she really did, her tension and pain gone, and her body light, buoyant. But she also felt unfulfilled, dissatisfied.
It was because her blood had been wasted. Instead of nurturing life, it was soaked into the satin sheets, nothing but dirty laundry.
“This is barbaric,” she bit out. “It’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Finally stepping over to her, he lifted her and carried her to the shower, rinsing the blood from her and sealing her wounds with his tongue.
“Please, Arianna, I’m begging you, don’t use your Amiti tricks on me. They won’t work. I love you, my heart. But I still need time.”
Wrapping her in a warm towel, he took her hand and led her through a doorway to a second bedroom. It was like some kind of sex gym: a huge, round bed in the center, mirrors covering every inch of the walls and ceilin
g. Reflections of both of them multiplied into infinity everywhere she looked.
Wow, now she knew what was behind that random door that she’d found locked every time she nosed around in Tor’s suite.
Candles circling the bed ignited all at once, apparently responding to Tor’s will. He led her to the bed and nudged her down onto it. It was a relief to see just one reflection of herself in the mirror above her, and looking at her naked body, she was startled to find that she didn’t feel embarrassed or even shy. Instead she felt a rush of pride. She looked ... radiant, lustrous skin covering sexy curves, all framed by the flaming halo of her hair.
Tor sat on the bed and ran his hand along her side, tracing the curves of her waist and hip. Lazily, she watched them in the ceiling mirror, mesmerized by the sight of her body arching and stretching to meet his hand. They’d been making love less than an hour ago, and she was already starving for more.
Tor stood up and padded across the floor. When he returned, he was brandishing a peacock feather he’d gotten from a vase near the doorway.
“Now,” he whispered, his eyes teasing. “Let’s practice your new skill. I’ll bring you to climax while you practice controlling your body, keeping it from overproducing blood. It’s a handy skill, one that will spare you a lot of discomfort. And me, too,” he added, tracing the feather slowly up her inner thigh. “And learning that control isn’t so bad, either.” He wiggled his eyebrows, his expression promising that he’d be tormenting her, and enjoying every minute of it.
And of course she responded, every cell of her body coming to attention, ultrasensitive. As the feather moved past her waist to circle her breasts and then still over her nipple, Arianna realized that she was losing it: her blood wanted to multiply, and she couldn’t focus on stopping it, too distracted by the feather, the mirrors reflecting herself, the flickering candles, and Tor’s stormy eyes fixed on her.
And sure enough, when the feather began moving again, caressing first one nipple and then the other, her body started raging again, churning out new blood cells, totally disregarding her feeble objections.
