Dark Nights (21 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal

BOOK: Dark Nights
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Joie was killing him with her innocent sensuality. His body hurt, a hard, painful ache; he was desperate for relief. “I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance. I give you my heart.” His hands tightened on her waist, holding her so tight he felt her soft body melting around his. “I give you my soul. I give you my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care.”

The words spilled out of him, the Carpathian ritual marriage, as old as time. He felt thousands of tiny threads binding them together as they were meant to be joined.

He caught her chin in his hand, lifted her face to his, finding her lips almost blindly, wanting to devour her. She opened her mouth to him, melted into him. Traian caught her up in his arms, kissing her wildly, and carried her to the bed, cradling her in his lap so that his heavy erection pressed tightly against her buttocks. He whispered softly in his language, a strong command, even as his fingernail lengthened and he drew a line over his chest.

Joie kissed his throat, her lips drifting down his neck, unerringly finding his chest and the gash there. A hot flame burst inside him, a firestorm of emotion and sensation. The back of her head fit into his palm as he held her to him, encouraging her to make the exchange. Heat poured through his body. He burned for her, his body hard and painful with need, even as pleasure swept through him. Traian shifted, lowering Joie to the comforter, following her down so as not to break the connection between them. When he was certain she had taken enough for a true exchange, he whispered the command to halt and closed the wound himself. At once his mouth was on hers, stealing her breath, giving her his own.

Joie couldn’t remember how she ended up beneath him, his hips wedged between her legs. His hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, inciting. There wasn’t an inch of her skin that he didn’t explore. She heard her own strangled cry as his fingers sank deep inside her, felt her muscles clench tightly around him. Ready. Waiting. Desperate for his invasion. Her fingers caught at his hips, pulling him to her in a frantic attempt to find relief. She had never wanted or needed anything more than to feel his body deep inside hers.

Traian, certain she was ready for him, pinned her hips and thrust into her in one long, deep stroke. She gasped with pleasure, arched upward toward him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He cried out, unable to stay silent as he surged into her. She was a silken glide of fire and velvet as her feminine sheath gripped him tightly.

Joie clung to him, unable to do much more than hold on, lifting her body eagerly to meet his as he drove harder and deeper, merging them together in a fiery tango that she wanted to go on forever. They were skin to skin. Their hearts beat with the same wild rhythm. The air crackled with electricity, and sparks leapt from nerve ending to nerve ending. The pressure built and built until she thought she might have to scream with the joy exploding through her.

He poured into her mind, filling every lonely place with—him. She felt the sensations in his body, the gathering of a great force, much like a volcano. Hot. Thick. An inferno of desire and hunger mixed with intense emotion and pure lust. He filled her with flames and heat, an outpouring of pressure building from his toes to the top of his head. At the same time, he felt her every reaction, the waves of pleasure swamping her, racing to overtake them both, consume them completely.

Joie cried his name, clutched his body tightly as they went over the cliff together, free-falling through space in wild exhilaration. She couldn’t catch her breath; her heart was pounding out of control. Little explosions continued, rocking her, so that her body refused to let his go, clamping down hard and holding him to her.

“I think I see fireworks,” she whispered into his chest.

He laughed softly. “I think we produced the fireworks.” He lay over her, his body pinning hers, locked tightly inside her while he kissed her slowly. Thoroughly. Leisurely. Savoring her. “Thank you for finding me, Joie.”

“My pleasure, Traian,” she answered. He was moving yet not moving, and each small shift sent ripples of aftershocks through her entire body. “I can hear our hearts beating. Really hear them, like pounding drums. And I can hear the blood moving through your veins. Is that normal? Because if it is, eww, ick, and yuck.”

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through her entire body so that her muscles gripped even more tightly around him. “Think about turning the volume down. Our minds are very powerful. You can control the volume with a thought.” His teeth tugged at her lower lip “Think about it and you can hear a pin drop in the next room. But, if you want quiet, you simply turn the volume down.”

“I don’t feel that much different inside. I thought I would notice changes.”

“You haven’t gone through a conversion, Joie. It takes three blood exchanges. We have only exchanged one time.” He caught her firmly in his arms and rolled, taking her with him, so that she was straddling him.

He filled her completely, still hard and thick so that every movement sent pleasure dancing through her body. His hands cupped her breasts. “I want to look at you. I still have a difficult time believing I actually found you. That I am with you.”

Deliberately Joie moved, a long, slow glide up and down. She felt him shudder with pleasure and arched back, pushing her breasts into his hands, getting a better angle to take more of him deep inside her. “Why are you waiting, if we need three exchanges?”

He watched himself disappearing inside of her, slick and wet from her body. “I want to give your body time to adjust to the changes. It is not always easy.” He found it was difficult to get the words out, difficult to have a coherent thought when she was gripping him so strongly with her muscles, riding him harder and faster with long, deep strokes. Fire licked at his belly, flames erupted over his skin until the heat rushed to one central spot, collected there, and raged out of control.

He let the sexual ecstasy wash over him, through him, take possession of him, all the while watching the glide of her body, the way her muscles moved beneath her skin, the way her breasts pushed into his palms and her nipples teased and tempted him. The sheer enjoyment on her face. Her thoughts, completely taken up with giving them both pleasure, were enough to send him over the edge. He picked up the rhythm, thrusting upward, driving into her as she came down over him. Each stroke took his breath, took his heart. Her body caressed his—was wet and hot and tight and brought him to the brink, setting up an addiction that would never end. He would always want her again and again. He felt her muscles contract, grip, squeeze, and grip until they both went up in flames together.

Joie lay beside him, unable to move, wanting to laugh with joy. Her fingers found his, tangled, and held on. She believed in living life to the fullest, but she had always thought she would do so alone. For the first time in her life, she felt complete and utter satisfaction. Complete and utter peace.

“I feel exactly the same way,” Traian said. “I cannot help wondering—if you had been the Carpathian and I the human with a beloved family, would I have been as trusting as you have been? You cannot know what your faith and trust mean to me.”

Joie turned her head, a mischievous grin on her face. “I decided I liked flying and the shape-shifting would be cool. And if you do something so silly as to cheat on me or run off with someone else, I’m very good with a knife.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would be worried about giving up food. It does smell good. I have even sampled some from time to time.”

“No one said anything about giving up food.” She eyed him with suspicion. “There are certain things women can’t do without, Traian. Chocolate at certain times of the month is essential to health. Not necessarily my health, but the health of all males in the vicinity. I’m not giving up chocolate, not even for great sex.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, the pad of his finger tracing a circle around her breast. “Chocolate is that important, is it?”

“Essential. Absolutely essential. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“What kind of chocolate must you have?”

“Dark chocolate, of course. Is there any other kind?” He dipped his head to pull her breast into his mouth, suckling strongly just to feel her reaction. His tongue swirled over her nipple before he kissed her. His kiss was long and slow and thorough. When he lifted his head, he laughed softly at her expression. She stared up at him, bemused, one hand touching her lips in wonder where the taste of dark chocolate melting in her mouth was very real.

“How did you do that?”

“You need and I provide—that is how it works. I believe you wanted to see your brother and sister tonight.”

She allowed him to pull her up. “Anytime? You can do that anytime? Wow. I think I’m going to like this lifemate business.”

Traian laughed, hardly able to believe the happiness blossoming inside him. Hardly daring to believe Joie was real.

Chapter Nine

J
oie stood in the doorway of the lounge, her gaze scanning the crowd as she always did, getting a feel for the throng, picking out the ones most likely to cause trouble and the ones who might be interested in more than they should. She noted a tall, dark-haired man in the corner who looked up when she walked in with Traian. He quickly glanced away from them, taking a sudden interest in his drink, but she could tell he was watching them carefully. A second man drew her interest. He sat in one of the high-backed chairs near the fire, a newspaper in his hands. He was short and slender and wore reading glasses. He was looking over the top of the thick rims at Gabrielle.

Joie glanced up at Traian’s inscrutable face. He, too, had assessed the room in one quick glance and she realized he had moved slightly to put himself between her and the tall, dark-haired man pretending interest in his drink.

Who is he?

I do not know, but he is very interested in your family. This is a dangerous place for travelers who may have mage blood running in their veins,
he warned. Deliberately he didn’t look at Jubal when he sent him a quick command.
Make certain no one in the bar can see the weapon that came to you in the caves.

Jubal turned, very casually and waved to them both. Gabrielle looked up, gave a glad cry, and jumped up from the small table she was sharing with her brother near the lit fireplace to run across the room to them. Behind her, the flames leapt and danced, glowing orange and gold and red. The taller man put down his drink and turned his head to follow Gabrielle’s progress.

More predator than man, Traian’s instincts sent an alarm sliding down his back. He reached out very carefully and touched the man’s mind. He liked the look of Gabrielle, but there was something about her that made him believe she was far more than she appeared and he was looking for . . . the undead. It was very obvious to Traian that the man was attracted to Gabrielle and he justified his interest by fitting the criteria given to him by others in his secret society of vampire hunters.

Women were said to be more beautiful, drawing interest wherever they went. They came out at night looking for men to seduce to do their bidding. The only women who could ever be vampires were human women who had no psychic ability that had been turned by vampires. They were clearly deranged and no one could ever mistake one. As far as Traian was concerned, they were pitiful creatures in need of sympathy and a merciful dispatch to the next realm.

Clearly the man hadn’t seen Joie yet, he was too busy ogling Gabrielle. Traian’s blood would enhance Joie’s beauty in a subtle way. He didn’t want attention drawn to her family, especially when Jubal wore the mage’s weapon. Before he stepped away from Joie, he made certain to shield her enough that she wouldn’t appear interesting to the stranger.

Joie prepared herself to be practically bowled over as her sister embraced her, hugging her with her usual enthusiasm. Looking over Gabrielle’s shoulder, she noted the man in the glasses looking past her to Traian. Recognition immediately flickered across his face, and he carefully folded the newspaper and laid it on the small table in front of him.

Traian
, Joie warned.
The one in the glasses, with the newspaper. Do you know him? He recognized you.

Traian sighed. Two members of the vampire hunting society in the small village close to where the prince of the Carpathian people made his home? That was too big of a coincidence for him to swallow. One might be a scout, but two meant they were hunting. The last time there was a hunt, men, women, and children were murdered, both human and Carpathian.

Joie shifted slightly to keep Gabrielle just a little behind her, her posture protective, but the two men were split, one on one side of the room while the other could control his side. Traian let his gaze drift naturally to the slender man with glasses who raised a glass to him the moment their eyes met.

He scanned the man’s mind. Clearly human, he recognized that Traian was not. To Traian’s amusement, the moment she noticed the stranger’s interest in them, Joie again shifted, gliding slightly in front of him, even as she tried to keep an eye on the taller, dark-haired man.

The rush of joy and affection, a lightening of his heart and soul, made Traian tremble. He couldn’t remember if anyone in his long lifetime had worried about him or tried to protect him. That small gesture meant the world to him because it revealed her faith in him. She’d made a leap of faith, committing herself to his life, his world.

He is not an enemy,
he assured.
Did we forget to discuss the fact that I am not certain I want you guarding bodies?

Really?
She arched an eyebrow at him.
Not even yours? I’m pretty good at it.

Traian’s eyes were on the dark-haired man, but he lifted his hand to hip level, palm down and waved off the man with the glasses just as he’d started to rise. The man immediately sank back into his chair and reached for his newspaper.

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