Bittersweet Blood (15 page)

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Authors: Nina Croft

Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal, #The Order, #Romance, #General, #demons, #Detective, #private investigator, #demon hunter, #paranormal romance, #Nina Croft, #Vampires, #dark paranormal, #secret powers, #romance series

BOOK: Bittersweet Blood
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The cool air brushed her skin. Raising her head, she stared down the line of her naked body. He stood at the foot of the bed, clasped a hand around her ankles, and dragged her legs apart. A slow smile spread across his features as he drew the scent of her arousal into his nostrils. “You smell divine.”

He knelt between her open legs and trailed one hand up the inside of her thigh, his fingers stroking over the thin skin. “I can feel the blood in your veins,” he whispered.

Chapter Fourteen

Tara went still as Christian lowered his head and kissed the exact spot where his fingers had been. His lips parted over her skin and flames shot upwards to the junction of her open thighs. She wanted to cry out with the need that thundered through her. Instead, she bit down on her lower lip and tasted the sharp metallic blood on her tongue.

Christian raised his head slowly, sniffed the air, his eyes focusing on the drop of blood that clung to her lips. He moved, faster than she could have believed possible, and he was crouched over her, his hair falling about his shoulders, his lips drawn back to reveal the razor sharp fangs. She should have been afraid, but instead she licked the blood from her lip with the tip of her tongue.

Hunger flared in his eyes, the silver now streaked with crimson, and a low growl trickled from his throat. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he had regained some level of control.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said.

He lowered his body onto hers so the hard length of his erection pressed into her belly. His hands moved up to cradle her face, the pad of his thumb running over her lower lip. Tara flicked out her tongue, teased him, and his body jerked. Leaning close, he kissed her. Tara opened her mouth beneath his and his tongue thrust into her.

She rubbed her hips against his straining erection.

“Slow down,” he said against her lips. “Or I’ll lose control.”

“I don’t care.”

He laughed softly and the sound moved across her body like a caress. “I can see that, but you’re small and I’m—”

Tara glanced down the line of their bodies and a flicker of fear shot through her, cramping the muscles of her belly. “Not,” she finished for him.

“I’ll make sure it’s good for you.”

She breathed slowly and forced herself to relax.

“Good girl.”

He slipped a hand between their bodies, stroking over her breast and belly, down through the soft curls at the base. He parted the lips of her sex with skillful fingers, fondling the already saturated folds. One long finger slid inside her, and her muscles clenched tightly around it. He withdrew and slid the finger now slick with her juices higher. He teased and tormented her, his finger gliding lazy circles around the hard little point of her desire. Tara’s thighs fell open, and she heard his low masculine chuckle. She didn’t care—she had to have this. She pushed up against his hand. At last, he touched her there, and she cried out. He rubbed his finger over the tight little nub, pinched it between his finger and thumb, and she screamed as her world exploded.

He played her mercilessly, waiting for the tremors to subside, touching her again, sometimes softly, then increasing the pressure until she was mindless with pleasure. She hardly noticed him shift up her body, positioning himself between her wide-open thighs. Only when she felt the huge swollen head of his cock nudge the opening to her body did she come back to herself. She shifted to accommodate the sheer size of him as he stared into her eyes.

“Give me your throat, Tara,” he said.

She raised her head and bared the long line of her throat. Her whole body tightened, anticipating his penetration. With one fluid move, he plunged deep inside, and a fierce stab of pain shot through her. Tara threw back her head to scream as Christian sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her neck.

The scream caught in her throat. He pinned her effortlessly, and after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and she calmed. He filled her completely, but he hadn’t yet moved. As she relaxed, he shifted his hips, grinding his pelvis against her, giving her a flash of the pleasure she’d felt moments ago. The last of the pain vanished. She moaned, and he loosened his hold. His fangs were still buried deep in her vein and now she felt the slow drugging pull as he drank her blood. It tugged at places deep inside her as he started to move. The drag of his cock as he withdrew created exquisite sensations, and the push as he filled her completely stoked the fire at her core.

The mouth locked at her throat held her immobile, and she gave herself up to the sensations building inside her. Moving more easily within her as her tight muscles accustomed themselves to his invasion, his speed increased, still controlled but powerful. She wanted his lovemaking to go on forever and at the same time, she needed it to end.

He released her throat, and suddenly she could move again. He rose up above her, fierce and wild, her blood staining his fangs crimson. Withdrawing from her almost completely, he held himself poised until his muscles strained with the effort.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and he smiled, his eyes not leaving hers as he shoved into her hard. She gasped, but her body rose up to meet him and her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove them both over the edge. She clung to him as she exploded the second time, and still he kept moving as the orgasms rolled over her. Finally, when she could take no more he went rigid above her as his own release thundered through him.


Christian gazed down at the woman beneath him. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared unconscious. Had he pushed her too far? She’d seemed to be with him all the way. He stroked his tongue over the small wounds to quicken the healing, and felt for her pulse. It was strong and steady. He rolled onto his side, propped himself on one elbow, and watched her sleep. Her blond hair lay tousled, her pink lips open, her cheeks still flushed with desire.

She shifted uneasily, and he reached out a soothing hand, caressed her cheek, wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her to him. She didn’t wake, but her body snuggled into his as though it belonged there. He held her back curved into his chest, curled his arm around her, and took one sweet breast into his palm. Lowering his head, he found the soft place where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in deeply. He caught again that same whiff of sulfur overlaid by a deep rich sweetness. He’d tasted the same delicious mix in her blood and now her life source buzzed through his system like a drug.

Demon blood.

Intoxicating.

He hadn’t wanted to accept it, but the truth was impossible to deny. He could smell it on her. Taste it in her blood. It appeared that his little human was not a human after all. Or at least not completely human. Maybe there was human in there, but there was also demon, and something else that gave her a sweetness he had never before encountered.

He tightened his grip on her. He’d hated demons for so long. Devoted his life to keeping the earth free of their taint.

Now he might very well be in love with one.

The irony struck him hard. He’d never believed in love, but this must be it. He wanted to keep her close, keep her safe, lose himself in her body. He wanted to protect her from pain, and this little piece of news would cause her a whole shit load of pain. How was he supposed to tell her that her normal life would never happen?

His hand tightened on her breast, and she shifted in her sleep. He massaged her gently, grazing his palm over the nipple. It tightened to a hard nub against his hand and he took it between his finger and thumb tugging until she moaned and wriggled her warm little bottom against him. His cock hardened and his balls ached viciously. He wanted her. He couldn’t feed again yet, but he was desperate for the taste of her on his tongue.

He slipped a hand down between them, pushed between her thighs, and found her still wet, warm and slippery.

“Christian?” she whispered his name as he pushed one finger up inside her. He stroked the soft skin of her bottom then wrapped a hand around one slender thigh, lifting it to give him access. He opened her gently, and his cock slipped inside her as though it belonged there. He nuzzled her neck, grazed the skin with one razor sharp fang, and lapped at the beads of blood that welled from the wound as he moved inside her.


Tara came awake fully as his fang grazed her skin. Christian was behind her, curved around her spine, wrapping her in a warm, sensual glow. He was also buried deep inside her, his arms enfolding her. One hand tugged at her engorged nipple while the other gently stroked her swollen clit. She was on fire as he thrust slowly. She wanted it to go on forever but she craved the release he could give her. She let herself go, giving herself up to the sensations building inside her until she was free and flying.

She slept again afterward. When she woke, he was still beside her and she was wrapped in his arms. She felt different and realized something fundamental had changed deep within her mind. Whether from his lovemaking or feeding, Christian had forged a connection between the two of them, like a low hum, whispering through her brain. Tara found it strangely comforting.

She knew that soon she was going to have to ask him what he had discovered but for a little while, she wanted to forget.

“Where did these come from?” She stroked her fingers around the scars that circled his wrists.

His eyes followed the movement. After a minute, he gripped her hands, settling them palm down on his naked chest and pressing them down with his own. His skin felt warmer now, smooth as satin under her fingers, but he wouldn’t distract her so easily. Tara wanted to know everything about him. Where he came from, what his life had been like before he died. Graham had told her Christian didn’t talk about his past but she refused to be put off.

“I thought you healed all scars?”

He sighed. “Not those that happened before we were changed.”

“So you got them before you were turned into a vampire?”

Christian rolled onto his side, trapping their hands between their bodies. It brought his face close and his breath feathered across her cheeks. “You don’t want to talk about this,” he said against her skin.

A shiver ran through her but she shook it off. “Actually, I do. I want to know, and it will take my mind off my own problems for a little while.”

He drew in a deep breath. She thought he was going to refuse her, but he pulled himself up, dragging her with him so he rested back against the headboard. He tucked her under his arm, and she relaxed against him.

“I was born in 1502.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “1502? That makes you—”

“A lot older than you. If you want to hear this, I suggest you stop interrupting. It’s not a story I’ve told before.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Go ahead.”

“My parents were rich by the standards of the day. I grew up in a manor house. I was betrothed at thirteen and we married when I was eighteen and Elizabeth fourteen.”

Tara opened her mouth to say something. Christian shot her a look, and she closed it again.

“We were happy. Over the next few years, we had two daughters. A son would have followed, but it was not to be. My family was murdered. I didn’t know it at the time, but the Earth was in the middle of one of the demon wars. A particularly long, drawn-out war. They happen every so often, and we normally manage to put them down without too many problems, but there are always human casualties. My family was targeted because of me.”

He rested his head against the wall behind him, and stared into space. It was such a long time ago but he obviously still felt the guilt.

“If the demons killed them, how could you be responsible?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Not so much now, but during the wars in the Middle Ages, demons and the fae recruited humans to work with them. They can sense when a person is susceptible to their ways and approach them with promises of rewards. I wasn’t, but it was common knowledge I’d had problems with the church. I was against many of their practices and spoke out, believing my position would protect me. So perhaps I drew the demons to me. When they realized I would never work for them, they killed my family out of spite.”

He shook his head. “I’ll probably never know the details, but I found out later they were killed on the orders of a demon called Asmodai. He’s one of the seven princes in the Abyss, and I suppose I should be flattered that he came for me himself. After the murder, the church leaped at the chance to have me arrested. I blamed myself after my family died, and didn’t care what happened to me.

“I was imprisoned, although my position kept me alive for three years. Three years in a dungeon chained to a wall in the darkness, thinking about what had happened.” He held out his hands to show the scars on his wrist. “That is when I got these.” He lifted himself away from her and twisted to show her his back. A fine tracing of silvery scars ran over the whole length of it, marring the perfection of his skin.

Tara stroked her finger over the scars with a trembling hand. “What happened?”

“My family connections stopped them from permanently maiming me, but they felt they had a duty to beat the devil out of me. At the time I believed I deserved it.”

Tara blinked away a tear. It slipped out and rolled down her cheek.

Christian picked it up on his fingertip. “Don’t cry for me,” he said. “It was a long time ago, and in a way, the imprisonment is what kept me alive. Had I been free, I would have gone searching for death and no doubt found it.”

Tara couldn’t bear the thought of him alone in the darkness with only his guilt to keep him company. “How did you get out?”

“I didn’t. Well, the man I was never left that cell. After three years, the church sentenced me to death. I was to be burned at the stake as an emissary of Satan. I remember thinking I liked the irony of it. The night before I was to die, I had a visitor. He said he could free me, give me a new life, immortality if I wanted it. I answered that I didn’t want a new life and immortality at that point seemed a burden rather than a prize, but he told me I would be fighting demons. He belonged to a group that protected the Earth, and I could be part of that. I could hunt down the killers of my family, and all I needed to relinquish was my mortal life and my soul. At that point, I wasn’t even sure I had a soul worth saving. So I agreed, and received the vampire’s kiss.”

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