Shadow of the Vampire (24 page)

         
He cocked a brow at her. Those sea-blue eyes of his danced in a way that made her racing heart trip over itself. "Do you trust me?"

         
At her wordless nod, he wrapped his arms tighter around her thighs, bringing her closer to his mouth. The playful tug had Alexia's bottom slipping against the sheets. She fell back against the bed with a giddy laugh that died in her throat the moment she felt his head between her thighs.

         
Fingers parted her folds, exposing her heated flesh to his gaze. Her stomach clenched, waiting, anticipating and craving the next pass of his mouth. She didn't have to wait long.

         
Blistering hot, his mouth pressed against her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Declan slid his tongue against her again and again, groaning as if she were the sweetest delectable he'd ever tasted. Fevered, hungry, he devoured her, consuming her in a maelstrom of desire. Alexia clawed at the bed, the cool sheets slipping through her fingers.

         
With aching precision, he swirled his tongue against the apex of where she ached. The sensitive button seemed to pulse and thicken with every pull of his lips, growing more responsive with each flickering pass. When he fastened his mouth around the nub, drawing it between his teeth, balls of light peppered her vision. Every muscle in her body tightened and then melted until she was rigid and yet boneless at the same time.

         
Trembling, she pressed against him. He moaned, his tongue entering her channel, spearing her. Alexia gasped, her back bowing off the bed. A large hand flattened over her belly, holding her in place while his other joined his mouth between her legs. He focused the attention of his tongue back on her clit, letting his finger slip into its place.

         
"Declan." She almost screamed his name as another wave of pleasure swelled inside her, lapping her insides like a tongue of fire. Her cry seemed to spur him, for he began pumping his finger in and out of her in rhythmic pulses. Her body bucked with each one. Greedy, her channel clenched around his finger, hugging and sucking him into her body. He slipped another in on his next pass, stretching her deliciously while his wicked tongue kept swirling over her clit.

         
In that instant, she couldn't think, couldn't see. Every muscle in her body stiffened. Her lungs seized so she was unable to breathe and her fangs stretched painfully long. The constant hum of a thousand wings in her lower belly increased. They began beating frantically against her inner walls, as if trying to break free. Then, in a moment of blinding ecstasy, the pressure surged and she exploded. She couldn't keep back her cry this time. It sang out of her. Without Declan's strong arms keeping her grounded, she was sure she would have floated to the heavens.

         
Shaking, gasping for air, Alexia lay limp atop the bed, unable to move. She registered Declan untwining his body from her legs. Felt the smooth brush of his warm lips upon her belly, on each rib, her breasts, her collarbone, behind her ear. The mattress dipped as he finally lay next to her, a heavy arm wound protectively around her waist.

         
As she floated back to awareness, the steady drumbeat throbbing inside her began to ebb. The heady wings of passion she'd flown upon slowly released her back to earth and at once she felt taken over by both wonder and vulnerability.

         
"I never...I never..." She looked over at him, lying beside her, and frowned. "What did you do to me?"

         
The corner of his lip did that curvy thing and another flutter tremored through her belly. His warm palm covered her stomach and began making small, flat circles on it as if he'd sensed the riot he caused within her.

         
"I hope I just pleasured you." His voice was deep, thick and confident. But his eyes held the unmistakable hint of doubt. Alexia's heart ballooned and a shy smile passed her lips. She'd never felt womanly, or much like blushing, but knew she was doing both.

         
"Oh, you did. I just never knew it could be like that."

         
His face grew serious and she knew right away where his mind had gone. A hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her to him. He scooted closer, taking her in his arms. From shoulders to toes their bodies pressed together, his hard to her soft.

         
"Alex," he murmured, tucking her head to his chest. "It will only ever be like that with me."

         
She quivered. His words were not an empty promise, but a fierce conviction. A vow she knew he would never let go of. Alexia closed her eyes.

         
"I wish I could take it back," she whispered.

         
"Take what back?"

         
"Your memories of that night. Only one of us should have to live with that."

         
Hands cupped her cheeks, forcing her up to meet his gaze. "I'm glad I know. Not only does it help me understand you, it will make it all the more gratifying when I kill him."

         
The thought of him fighting an olden as evil and wicked as Lotharus was almost too much to physically bear. Alexia swallowed down the fear and focused on the second emotion coursing through her.

         
"Tell me again, how can you know what he did?"

         
Declan closed his eyes. "What I told you that night in the dungeon was true. I saw it."

         
Before she could speak to refute his claim, he ran his fingers through the soft hair framing her face and hushed her with his words. "I have been dreaming of you, Alexia. Every night, no, every time I close my eyes," he answered, gliding a hand through the silken yellow strands. "But these aren't like regular dreams." He frowned. "They are more like--"

         
"Memories," she finished for him.

         
He opened his mouth to reply, but didn't get out the words before she spoke again.

         
"I've dreamt of you, too."

         
Declan's heart stilled, gripped with sudden fear. He could only imagine what horrible truths she'd seen buried somewhere in his past. "You have?"

         
"Yes. Just now and before in the dungeon." She nodded, a confused look on her face. "But, it couldn't have been real. I mean, I didn't think it was until you..."

         
A flush crept across her cheeks and she dipped her chin to her chest. The weight crushing his spirit lifted. Smiling, he licked his lips. The honeyed flavor of her lingered on his mouth and his cock twitched at the taste. Forcing back his need, he tilted her head up, compelling her to look at him.

         
"What did you see in your dream?"

         
Every inch of her skin, from cleavage to chin, flushed an enticing pink and he knew the answer. Instantly, he was besieged with incredible desire for the woman lying beside him. The woman he could still taste on his tongue. He wondered if that tempting color would rush over her skin and face as he rocked inside her. If that was how she would look the moment her pleasure peaked and his body had wrung every last drop of pleasure from hers.

         
"I saw us together."

         
Oh, Gods. At her admission, his pulse pounded in his ears. Clearing his throat, he focused on speaking, on making sure they were both on the same page and he wasn't completely lost in his lust for her.

         
"You saw us together, like we are now?" he asked.

         
She shook her head and another wave of color spread across her cheeks, followed quickly by a frown. "Not like this. But it didn't make sense."

         
Declan couldn't help but smile. "What didn't make sense?"

         
"Well, for one, you had a wound." She lifted her hand, running her finger alongside his cheek. "Right here. And I don't see a scar." A shudder moved through him at her simplest touch. Declan laid more of his weight atop her, letting loose a groan at the exquisite feel of her skin on his. A fine sheen of perspiration coated her, warming every inch of her flesh. Their eyes locked, palpable heat building between them.

         
"And two?" he asked, his voice deep and thick. Bending, he brushed his lips against hers, whisper soft. Hers parted beneath his, her mouth eager and willing. Heady exhilaration hummed through him at the knowledge she was as affected as he by their closeness.

         
"I was flying," she breathed against his lips. "I had wings, like yours."

         
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and goose bumps peppered his flesh, even though his body was anything but cold. Declan pulled back. Slowly, her eyes opened, a lazy smile curving her lips. Although he still ached for her, confusion and awe took the place of his desire. He sat upright, dragging the sheet with him. Alexia quickly captured the edge, clutching it to her bare chest self-consciously.

         
"Declan, what is it?"

         
"Nothing." He tried to smile through the unease building in his gut. "Are you hungry?"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

         
BOISTEROUS VOICES AND music filled the grand hall. Alexia shifted her shoulders, fidgeting under the coarse layers of heavy clothing Declan had given her to wear. Although scratchy and anything but comfortable, she understood right away why the dragons wore such garments. Their enormous lair stood high in the snow-covered mountains. Even in this huge room, filled with bodies and roaring braziers, the temperature felt below freezing. She wasn't used to anything under fifty degrees.

         
Hunkering down farther into the sweater and skins, Alexia's gaze roamed around the space. Their hall reminded her of the keep of medieval legends and tales of auld. Barbaric even, and nothing like the refined gardens of her mother's chamber. Massive wood tables lined the available floor space. The four large fire pits dug into the floor around them burned bright, and large animals she could not discern rotated on spits atop each one. The hearty smell of stew and baking bread perfumed the air, making her tummy growl.

         
Antlers, skins of animals they'd hunted and eaten littered the walls and floors of the cavernous room. From what Declan told her, they used every bit of the animals they killed. If the rustic jewelry hanging around their necks, the candelabra of antlers and animal heads mounted on the walls were any indication, she believed him.

         
A riotous laugh rent the air, followed by a loud bang. Alexia gasped, her gaze darting to a nearby table. A man had obviously drunk too much and fallen off his stool. Alexia tensed, wondering if the bigger man leaning over him was going to punish him. However, he only reached out a hand and helped him to his feet.

         
She took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. This group was boisterous and lively, warm and full of vibrant life. The complete antithesis of what she was used to. Another shudder racked her. She tugged the skin tighter around her shoulders, ignoring the lingering smell of animal as she sucked in a breath.

         
Casting another quick glance about the room, she saw that everyone wore heavy sweaters, mostly in earth tones and some in better condition than others. Black combat boots seemed to be the footwear of choice and overall a masculine and gritty feel permeated everything from decor to clothing to personalities. Even the few women she could discern had well-defined muscles, firm bodies--warrior bodies. Such a hard people. She vaguely wondered how hers would compare. Were they just as rough, resilient, hardy and severe? Did they have grand feasts such as this?

         
At the thoughts swimming through her, a hole of wonder and doubt grew bigger, wider inside her. Her whole life she'd fought for people she did not even know. Yet Declan knew what he fought for, what was at stake.

         
Again her eyes sought him out. He stood beside a roaring fire pit, his lips pulled back in a relaxed smile. Flames accentuated the golden hue of his skin and dark blue of his eyes. He wore a huge woolen pullover, so white she wondered if the fur came from a polar bear. The massive cuffs rolled up thickly but still hung around his wrists. She briefly wondered if it had once been his father's. Declan had said he was a large man, and if this sweater had fit him, she could only imagine his size.

         
Dark pants clung to his well-muscled legs. The ends tucked into calf-high combat boots, the laces loosely tied. Strange, but it was odd to see him with clothes on. To not have every inch of his perfect body uncovered and exposed to her gaze.

         
He reached up, fitting the mug to his lips. She noted he wore a pair of black fingerless gloves. Right away, her eyes caught, transfixed on his hands. So strong and sleek. Even sitting half a hall away from him, she could feel their phantom caress on her skin.

         
A feeling of contentment laced through the constant pressure and doubts weighing down her chest. Wearing a tiny grin, she looked away just as a dark-haired woman walked past, a youngling by her side. Alexia offered a smile, but the female clutched her child protectively under the wing of her arm, as if shielding her young from a monster.