Blood Shadows (41 page)

She stiffened. “No you’re not. I—”

“Shh,” he whispered. “Hush.”

“Don’t tell me to hush,” she retorted. “You—”

And just like that, he bit her.

Actually bit her.

Deanna froze, completely astonished, as her mind tried to process the dual sensations of pain and pleasure radiating in her neck. She immediately recognized the familiar imprint of Nachari’s venom flowing through her veins and—

Nachari was
pumping his venom into her veins?

Why?

Before she could protest more enthusiastically, the floor gave way; she felt a vortex open beneath her; and they were suddenly somewhere else, flying high above the earth’s surface. An unbelievable feeling of freedom and well-being engulfed her, enrapturing her senses, and then they were all at once descending, gently, like mere feathers in the wind, drifting slowly together, their bodies entwined in a graceful dance, toward a beach filled with crystal white sand.

It was beyond surreal, yet it was heavenly.

His hands were warm and strong against her waist, feeling for the ties on her robe, yet it didn’t seem frightening. It didn’t seem strange. It was like…he belonged.

Like they belonged.

Her robe fell open, and something deep inside her told her she should protest—stop him somehow, for some reason—but she couldn’t imagine what it was. The sensation of soft sand beneath her back, warm sunshine against her face, and clear water brushing over her heels was just too heavenly. Too inviting. How had he known that this was her ultimate fantasy? The one place she would most desire to make love?

The thought of making love to Nachari Silivasi seemed outrageous, but it was somehow too far removed from her consciousness to grapple with. She was free…weightless…beautiful.

Desired.

His hands swept beneath her hips, and she felt her body strain in his direction, becoming more and more pliant beneath his somehow distant ministrations.

Was he touching her?

Looking at her?

Seeing her body…naked?

A cool breeze swept beneath her robe, and she knew in an instant that he was—that the welcoming sensation of a gentle breeze against her skin was somehow Nachari’s mouth—his lips, his tongue, exploring her body languidly.

Languidly?

Her mind fought for a purchase on reality.

They had seven minutes—maybe less than that—how could he be exploring her body languidly; and how could she feel such sweet sensations yet remain so disconnected from the immediacy of what was happening? It was like a strange, erotic dream.

Heat, like that of a burgeoning flame, began to engulf her core, and she almost gasped at the intensity of it. The fire burned, but not like a hot iron…not like a scorching sensation—there was no pain or fear. It was more like a building conflagration within her soul, a mounting need, a desperate yearning for…something.

“Oh…God…” What was he doing now?

She felt the muscles in her stomach contract even as her panties seemed to magically disappear, and for the faintest of moments, she understood that this was foreplay—he was preparing her body to accept his—and she wished that she could actually feel what he was doing.

Her wish was his command.

Hot breath wafted over her cool, erect nipples; the dual sensation both teasing and alarming her with its erotic force. Her womb clenched in reaction, and she moaned.

The sound was distant to her ears.

Nachari seemed to appreciate this because his tongue traced a circle around the straining peaks, first one and then the other, before he gently drew her into his mouth and suckled.

Deanna fisted the sand, shocked by the overwhelming pleasure the male was giving her. He teased her with his fangs, his lips, his tongue—tasting, suckling, tugging ever so gently, before biting and then appeasing the sting with his breath. Her eyes drifted shut, and she arched her back instinctively.

His kneading hands tightened beneath her, massaging every thought from her brain, embracing her in a gentle strength and peaceful security that had her longing for…forever. She writhed beneath him, and he responded in kind, his firm, narrow hips pressing into hers, revealing for the first time a powerful, straining erection, as stiff and hard as iron.

He was thick and long and impressive, and the idea of his size sent waves of heat into her core; yet still, he remained elusive. Like he was there, but not entirely. She felt him, and yet she felt separate—at ease—alone on the beach.

Perfectly at peace.

She released the sand beneath her fingers and reached up to touch him. She had to connect more fully, to know the male beneath the power—the heart beneath the talented hands and mouth. “Nachari,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desperation. “I need you to be here.”

He rose above her then, and when she opened her eyes, she saw him fully. His face was etched with indescribable pleasure; his eyes filled with something she could only describe as love—but how was that possible? She stared at his sculpted lips, noticing for the first time how perfectly balanced—how smooth, firm, and shapely—they really were. “Kiss me,” she pleaded, needing something she could hardly name.

Nachari bent to her mouth slowly, and the visage of his eyes, his hair, his skin, the knowledge that someone so incredibly beautiful was giving himself to her, filled her with wonder. And then their lips met, and the earth stood still.

There were no beaches or oceans or skies.

There was no past or future.

No Blood Curse or required sacrifice.

There was only the pure sensuality of the male above her and the exquisite pressure of his lips. Deanna tasted as much of him as she could, reveling in the flavor, the texture, the utter perfection that was him. His tongue danced with hers, sweeping, teasing, exchanging passion on a level she had never known before.

She wanted.

With every fiber of her being.

She needed.

To feel, to capture, and to know…all of him.

As his lips left hers and began a slow, torturous descent along her neck, her collarbone, stopping to lave exquisite attention on her breasts, she ran her hands along his sculpted, bare back and marveled at the arch in his spine, the dip near his hips, the two muscular globes that made up a magnificent ass. And still, she wanted more.

That primal, integral part of him that made him male.

The very essence of his soul.

No wonder a demon had fallen in love with him; he was beyond resisting. What had she ever been thinking?

His mouth made contact with her core, and she nearly jackknifed off the beach. As her thighs fell further apart, he nestled between her legs, settling in as if he had all of eternity to spend in her service; and then he placed one hand firmly on her stomach to hold her in place, the other at the top of her mound.

She groaned with anticipation as he began to rub slow, tight circles against her cleft, all the while making love to her with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth—as if he knew every single sensation that she felt. And truth be told, maybe he did.

As a pair of expert fingers slid down from her mound and entered her core, she whimpered. There was no way to contain the pleasure, the mounting sensations; and tears of ecstasy spilled out of her eyes.

She reached down and grasped a thick handful of hair, hoping she wasn’t hurting him but helpless to stop herself. Tugging upward, she pleaded, “Now. I need you now—inside of me.” He rose above her like an angel of mercy; perfect in form, body, and spirit; and she allowed her legs to fully part, practically writhing beneath him.

As he found his place between her thighs, she lost her ability to wait and reached down to guide his erection. Her hand didn’t fit around the width of him—not even close. As she grappled with the realization that her open fist surrounded less than half of his enormous shaft, a small twinge of fear enveloped her.

It was quickly washed away as his mouth descended upon her breasts once again, taking each one in turn, until she forgot her own name.

She raised her hips to meet him, and he didn’t disappoint: He entered her in one powerful thrust and immediately sealed their mouths together in an effort to kiss away the shocking, stretching sensation. As her body molded around his, she quivered in pleasure.

His rhythm was impeccable.

Long, slow, even strokes in an easy circular grind.

Alternating short then deep thrusts, teasing her with mere inches before once again giving her the full length of his shaft in mind-numbing sequences—all as he arched his magnificent back.

“Look at me, Deanna,” he whispered, punctuating his words with a soft kiss on her mouth.

Unable to resist anything he might desire, she opened her eyes and stared for the first time into the true face of her destiny. Not a stranger. Not a wizard. Not just a vampire—but her forever partner.

The other half of her soul.

He smiled that magnificent grin, and any remaining resistance melted away. How could she have ever considered letting him die? Or walking away?

He stroked her cheek with the palm of his hand and stared into her eyes, even as he continued to thrust in and out of her; and the intensity was almost unbearable. “You are fully with me, Deanna—without any Magick.” His breath caught on the last word as a storm of sensation rocked his graceful body.

Deanna frowned in confusion, and then suddenly looked around her. They were no longer on the beach, and there was no ocean. There was no sky above her, no sand beneath her. And it wasn’t a dream. Rather, they were lying in a guest room, just adjacent to the one she had occupied in Kagen’s clinic for what seemed like forever, and they were definitely making love. Together. Apparently, they had neither had the time nor the inclination to get to Kristina’s apartment.

Her eyes sought out a clock:
eight
thirty!

They had been making love for an hour and a half?

She immediately glanced out the window and noticed the complete darkness outside. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, panic finding a real place in her heart. “The time…Nachari…
no!
”

He pressed his fingers to her lips and shook his head. “Shh…it’s okay.” He smiled sheepishly then. “I did…
what was necessary
…in the first two minutes, and you’ve been pregnant ever sense.” He slowed his pace to a slow grind and pressed his pubic bone against her clitoris. “This…is for you.”

Deanna gasped at the pleasure and sighed with relief. “You’ve been making love to me”—her voice caught as her womb contracted in a pre-orgasmic spasm—“all this time?” He raised his eyebrows with self-appreciation, and for the first time, Deanna saw the confident—if not slightly arrogant—wizard many of her new friends and family had told her so much about.

She laughed with appreciation, and her heart leapt with joy. He was exactly who they had said he was.

And then, without warning, her body splintered into a million pieces as the
real
, intimate orgasm he had worked so patiently to give her erupted and sent her spiraling into the cosmos—and beyond.

A moment later, she felt Nachari’s back arch and stiffen. His muscles tightened in a powerful spasm; and his penis began to pulse in violent waves of pleasure as his seed poured into her…

And in that moment, she couldn’t help but think that what held him to her was…love.

twenty-seven

Nachari stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and donned a pair of Kagen’s extra scrubs. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. Strolling back into the room with his usual, confident swagger, he caught the eye of the beauty on the bed and quickly padded to her side. Tracing a slow circle around her belly button, he smiled mischievously. “Hi,” he said, grinning for all he was worth, “I’m Nachari.”

Deanna laughed and playfully slapped his hand away. “You, I’m starting to believe, are an idiot.”

Nachari laughed, a rich, natural sound, and then he shook his head in earnest. “No. Not at all. In fact, I’m practically a sage.”

Deanna rolled onto her side and brushed a long lock of hair away from her face. “Yeah? So what divine wisdom do you have to share with me now, my handsome sage?”

“Well,” he said, frowning and looking away as if in serious contemplation. “Right now, I’m divining the close proximity of my brothers; they’re waiting for me in Kagen’s office.” He pressed two fingers to his forehead as if tapping into some deep, hidden information. “And if I don’t go to them in—oh, let’s say about sixty seconds—all three of them are going to be in this room, in this bed, with us.”

Deanna cringed and pulled up the covers. “Go,” she said.

He smiled lovingly then. “Will you wait for me, pregnant woman?”

She covered her eyes with her hands. “Where else am I going to go?”

He shrugged his shoulders. He was about to say
to hell if you don’t pray
, but the familiar refrain was no longer funny.

Not even a little bit.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind. “Seriously, though, Deanna—I really don’t want to leave you, not even for a minute, but I do need to see them.”

Deanna reached up and stroked his face, albeit tentatively. “I understand. I do.”

He smiled, pleased by her touch. “Things are going to happen very quickly from this point forward,” he said. “The birth, the sacrifice, our marriage and naming ceremonies—the next forty-six hours of this pregnancy may be the only private time we have together for quite a while, and there is so much we need to talk about.”

“I know.” She nodded. “I have a dozen questions…and concerns.”

Nachari regarded her with deep appreciation. He fingered a lock of her soft brown hair and smiled. “Things have happened so fast,” he said quietly. “We have hardly had a chance to talk, to get to know each other, and there are so many things we need to discuss—things we have to deal with right away.” He looked down at his hands and absently turned them over, as if studying them intently. “I’m so sorry about everything, Deanna—everything you’ve had to go through, the fact that I wasn’t here to walk you through it…slowly. The fact that you’re looking at a man you don’t really know—one who wants nothing more in this entire world than to make you happy.”