Blood Secret (13 page)

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Authors: Sharon Page

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: Blood Secret
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But with his heart all mixed up, and duty strangling him, and desire for her rushing hot through his blood, it was the only thing Sinjin could think of. Make love to her. Make love to her and forget what the morning would bring.
 
Lucy could not quite believe Sinjin had thanked her. She’d thought he would hate her, along with the rest of her family, over the terrible state James was in. At least the boy had responded to her, and because he had, surely she could break through more. Surely she could bring him back.
Sinjin laid her gently on the soft, elegant daybed, draping her as though she were fragile and delicate. He had seen her as a dragon, yet he carried her and arranged her like a gentleman with a revered lady.
She gave a shaky sob. Tears came—tears for James. Sinjin made a soft growl in his throat, then kissed her cheeks to whisk them away. His lips were like velvet, a quick caress to her cheeks that made her tremble.
How she quivered. She hugged herself and closed her eyes, letting her sealed lashes hopefully stop the tears until she got control.
But he murmured, “Open your eyes.”
She did. Wide. Sinjin’s long dark lashes swept over his glinting green eyes. His mouth was parted, poised for another kiss. His broad shoulders were right in front of her, so strong and secure. She laid her hands on them. “I am so sorry about James.”
“You made him speak. Together we can help him. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ve never—” She stopped. She had never felt so close to anyone. So willing to open her heart. It made her see how she had never truly cared for the man who had been her fiancé. That had been nothing to this tumult of feeling she had no idea how to express. She didn’t know if she should. Ladies were taught to be demure. She wanted to say
I love you
, but she knew a lady was not supposed to be so bold.
“Lucy, love, don’t speak. Let me love you.”
A soft smile touched his mouth, touched her heart. He gave her a swift kiss, a burst of magic against her lips, then he moved down her body. But he never dropped his gaze from hers. Her breasts lifted with fast breaths as he kissed his way along her stomach. Her hips squirmed against the silky cushions.
He threw up her skirts and gave her a long, luxurious kiss to her clit, which hardened at once. Her legs tensed as sensation streaked through her, but she was comfortable with him now and she lifted her hips, seeking pleasure. He was delighting her, tasting her, teasing with his tongue. It was like waltzing with him: she brought her hips up and played, gliding her quim against his lips and tongue. She saw the hint of his smile. She felt his hands cup her bottom and hold her tight. He pulled her against his mouth and licked, licked, licked her clit until she had to bite her lip hard to keep from screaming.
Her body heated and shook. It wanted to change. But she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She didn’t grow tense and terrified. She relaxed and controlled the shift. She did not want to become a dragon now. She wanted pleasure. This connection. This glorious, wonderful dance.
Then he suckled, lavishly, lovingly on her throbbing clit. Pleasure surged, a silken wave that coiled around her, and spun her wits, and made her sob with sheer ecstasy.
She clenched her fists, rode the wave of pleasure that made her quim pulse, her heart pound, that made her gasp and Sinjin grin as he twirled his tongue and drove her higher.
When she flopped down, he rose over her. He kissed her lips. Salty—his mouth tasted salty, tangy, and tart from her intimate juices. Sinjin’s kiss was openmouthed and hungry. He broke the wild mashing of their mouths for a moment to whisper, “Thank you.”
And his eyes ... they held such fire, such softness. It stole her breath.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
He undid his trousers, and joined tightly with her. They moved together quietly, and he buried his face in her tangle of hair and murmured by her ear, “I’m going to come quickly, love. I can’t last.”
She giggled softly, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Come now. I want to watch you, feel you, enjoy it, too.”
He plunged deeply, his hard thrusts teased her sensitive quim, and she gasped. She’d wanted just to watch him—
But heavens, pleasure flooded her. Her hands made fists and she flailed them against his shoulders. Goodness ... goodness ...
His hips surged forward and collided with hers. His back arched, his shoulders jerked, and he panted hard. Sweat rolled down his face as his groin bumped hers. She saw how ravaged he was, felt the rush of heat inside her.
He was coming.
Then he withdrew with a quick move of his hips and kissed the tip of her nose. Swiftly, he fastened his trousers, then he helped her undress. He stripped her down to her shift, and once she was clothed in nothing but the filmy muslin, he fetched a blanket from a box at the foot of the bed.
Adeptly, he arranged the blanket over her. The care Sinjin took to ensure her feet were covered made Lucy smile. Her skin was damp with perspiration for all her bouncing and her climax, but the soft weight of the cover warmed her.
He was stretched out beside her, balanced at the edge of the daybed. He cradled her in his arms, tucked her cheek to his chest. “Sleep, love. I don’t sleep during the night. I’ll keep watch over James. And over you, my treasure.”
12
Just a Taste
L
ucy woke to feel a firm ridge pressing against her bottom. Her shift had hiked up, leaving the cheeks of her derriere naked. She knew exactly was the jutting hardness was, knew it was the firm head of Sinjin’s cock poking her with the long shaft squashed between her curves and his rock-hard abdomen.
“Mmm,” she murmured, wriggling her bottom so it slapped his erection to and fro. Sinjin gave a rasp of a laugh. A soft bluish light glowed in the room, touching the curved details on the ivory daybed, and lightly illuminating the large bed that stood across from them.
Then Lucy remembered where they were and she lifted her head abruptly, straining to see in the whisper of daylight. She had slept without waking all night. Was James all right? Heavens, how could she have been so selfish? She should have gotten up and checked on him... .
It was daylight. And as a vampire, Sinjin had to seek darkness—
She bolted up, forcing Sinjin to groan as her hip pressed hard into his groan.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“I hadn’t meant to sleep so soundly. I’d intended to wake and check on James—”
“He is all right. I watched him through the night and he slept soundly,” Sinjin said quietly. “He is still sleeping so I think we should let him rest as long as he wants. But daylight is creeping in and I have to sleep for a while. I need to find darkness.”
“All right.” She frowned, thinking. In the carriage they had kept the curtains drawn and the interior lights extinguished. At the inns, which they had reached at night, he had been awake while she had slept. Where in the house would be dark enough? “You can use any bedchamber ... with the curtains closed, will it be dark enough? There is also the cellar—” She broke off. For years she had been mistress of her father’s household, since her mother had died when she was twelve. She had been hostess at dinners and parties he had held for their clan. She felt terrible offering the basement to Sinjin.
But he smiled. “A bedchamber should work fine, love. But first, I want to bang my hard cock deeply up your ass. Though we have to go at it quietly.”
She smothered a giggle, but quivered at his words. They were rough but erotic and exhilarating. With Sinjin she could be everything she should not be as a lady. Wanton. Lusty. Even a dragon who could play in the sky. He gave her freedom in a way no one ever had. Almost as though he’d commanded it, Lucy grew hot, wet, aching between her legs. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Then roll over, love, and expose your pretty rump to me.”
Obligingly she rolled onto her tummy, her legs slightly spread. The lacy edge of her shift lay halfway over her bottom, the roughish trim tickling her skin. A firm push got it out of the way. Naughtily, she lifted her bottom, both to tempt him and because she was wild with arousal. The touch of his hand on her rump made her moan. Anticipation had her wet, had her toes curling, had her heart racing.
He eased her cheeks apart with one hand, stroked his erection between them with the other. The velvety head bumped her tailbone, slid into the dewy valley where her cheeks were so plump they tried to grasp him. Then the full, taut head touched her opening.
Lucy held her breath.
Her hand strayed down, between her stomach and the cushions. Past the wrinkled hem of her shift. Through her nether curls. She tapped her finger teasingly on her clit, and he pushed his cock inside.
Slowly, wonderfully, he began to thrust. Her toes were clenched tight, her fingers curled so hard, her fingernails drove into her palms. But she began to relax. The tight puckered ring of her bottom slackened. She rose to him, wanting to take him deeper.
He obliged. Dear heaven, he lifted her legs off the ground, then thrust so far, she felt his groin smack her rump. He held her legs just below her knees, then he rose up on his knees, forcing her hips to rise with him. She braced on her arms, and his cock surged deep, impossibly deep, incredibly deep. His flat, muscled abdomen smacked her bottom with each stroke. Held this way, she was utterly at his mercy. Her breasts swayed wildly with each punishing but delicious thrust.
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. “Go deep. Pound
hard.
”
Each time he’d thrust so powerfully, she’d loved it. This time she wanted more. She wanted to feel his balls slap her. Wanted to feel his cock filling her bottom, pushing her to the limits of pleasure, where it flirted with pain but didn’t hurt. Where it was shocking and enthralling and good.
“Can you lock your legs around my hips?” he asked hoarsely.
She tried it and it worked. Then his fingers pressed to her bottom, pushing in beside his cock. Oh, it made her feel so full. And he slid his other hand to her pussy, and thrust his fingers in, as his thumb slid over her slippery clit.
Oh God. She tried to hang on. Lucy could hear his fierce breathing. He was close and she wanted to share this.
His hips gave a fierce thrust then they bucked wildly. He pushed his groin hard against her bottom, helpless in his climax, joining them completely. Heat spurted inside her and the glorious sensation made her climax, too.
They were coming together. It was wonderful. Amazing. For this was what she felt with him—as though she could share everything. She could share pleasure with him and she could share hope with him, the hope they would set James to rights. She could share her fears and doubts ... fears over being a dragon, doubts about her family, and both for her brother.
She could share her heart with him.
Sinjin collapsed on her, and as he always did, he kissed her. This time it was tickling brushes of his lips against her neck.
He rose, and she felt a soft cloth move over her rump. “I should fetch you some washing water,” he said.
“No. I will tend to that. You must go and sleep now. The sun is rising.”
“I’m sorry to leave you.”
“I understand that you must.” She pulled down the crumpled skirt of her shift. And watched as Sinjin stood, smoothed his clothing. He left her, then went to the bed. Her heart gave a pang as he smoothed back the boy’s hair, kissed the lad’s forehead.
Sinjin blew her a kiss. Then he let himself out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
 
Lucy didn’t know a great deal about young children, and she was worried she was about to do the wrong thing. Poor James had been through so much and her heart begged her to let him stay in bed, to have a tray of food brought to him.
But even though her heart wanted to coddle him, her head insisted that perhaps James needed to be pushed back into normalcy. She found his clothes lain over the back of a chair—a shirt, and short trousers, and braces. His shoes and stockings were neatly stored beneath the seat.
A maid brought a pitcher of steaming water and a basin. After the young servant left, Lucy sat James up in the bed. She had to move him as if he were a doll. Holding him with her arm around his back, she dipped a cloth in the basin and wet it. Coils of steam rose from the water.
“Here we go, dear,” she said softly. “I am going to wash you.” She pressed the cloth to his cheek.
James did not flinch; he did not look at her. His eyes stared ahead. His mouth was closed in a straight line.
The poor angel. She bathed his face, wiping away sleep from his eyes, crumbs of food from his lips. It was obvious no one had bathed him for several days. Small pimples dotted his skin and it was salty with dried sweat. No one had tended James, and fury swept through Lucy. What had happened to allow this child to be treated so badly? She could not believe it of her father. Was it because Father had died and no one had known what to do with this boy? Why had Mrs. Billings not asked what she should do?
She would find out.
Briskly, Lucy rinsed the cloth, then rubbed soap upon it, releasing the scent of sandalwood into the air. James’s small nose wrinkled and he tried to pull away when she began scrubbing. “No, my little lamb, you need a good wash.”
Had Mrs. Billings written to her brother—to Jack—and asked him what to do? He was the earl now. He was expected to take on Father’s duties, duties such as protecting young dragons.
Except Jack couldn’t even protect himself! He didn’t think of anything but his own pleasure. He would hardly trouble himself to write directions for caring for a child.
She loved her brother, but here, now, she had learned one undeniable thing. Jack’s irresponsibility hurt so many people. She might love him, but she could no longer try to clean up his messes, repair his disasters. She had to get him to stop making messes in the first place.
Lucy stood, got to the bell pull in three hurried strides, and tugged sharply. A maid came in moments, and Lucy sent the girl to fetch Billings.
As soon as the housekeeper presented herself, Lucy met the woman at the door, so James would hear her words. “Why has this child been so badly neglected? He has not been washed in goodness how long! And he is skin and bone. Have you fed him?”
“Of course, my lady.” The pale blue eyes widened in panic. “I have tried, but the child won’t eat. I would push the spoon between his closed lips and hope that at least something would trickle in.”
“Did you ask my father what was to be done with him? Did you write to my brother?”
“Yes. I received no reply.”
It was just as she’d thought. “You should have at least bathed him.”
The housekeeper wrung her hands. “I did try, my lady, but he would turn vicious. He would kick and punch me and bite me. Every time I tried it, he would fight me as if battling to the death. I could not get near him.”
Lucy frowned. “Is this true? With me, he has barely moved a muscle.”
“It is, my lady, I promise you. Most of the time, the boy just lay on the bed, staring upward without moving a muscle, but when I tried to touch him, he fought like a demon. And sometimes he would writhe on the bed as though he were possessed.”
Mrs. Billings did not know her employers were dragons. She did not know that some of the beings who stayed in this house were not human. Only a few of their servants did. It would be impossible to stay the tongues of many, many servants, so the secret was only revealed to the very loyal ones, like Creadmore, who had been in the family for years.
Arching a brow, Lucy commanded, “I will need some tooth powder, a fine comb, and some scissors.”
Mrs. Billings rushed off, and returned swiftly, bearing the items. Lucy dismissed the housemaid, and laid everything upon the vanity.
There
, she thought,
I will do this.
But it proved rather difficult to tidy up James. He struggled and spit when she tried to clean his teeth. Her face and gown were quickly covered with white spots, made from the tooth powder she had mixed into a paste, which James then sputtered at her.
When she had the scissors poised above his knotted, unruly hair, he tried to bolt off the vanity stool. She had to throw down the shears and pursue him around the bedchamber. Finally, she caught him, and asked, “Wouldn’t you feel better with your hair tidied? I will have to cut out the knots.”
Frowning, he shook his head.
Hmm, perhaps it had not been the best idea to ask. “Well, I believe you will. You are going to have your hair cut.”
Teeth sank into her wrist. Astonishingly sharp teeth. Lucy yelped and her hand fell back from James’s arm.
The boy ran toward the window. Panicked, she followed, but despite his small size and frail body, he sped toward the curtains like an arrow.
Was he going to try to get out? Was the window locked? She had never checked and James had reached the curtains. Velvet billowed around him as he tried to scuttle between them, and he got tangled. It gave her the time to reach him, and to grab him up in her arms. She held him against her chest, and he squirmed like a wriggling piglet. She had seen men try to hold piglets, and it had looked nearly as impossible as keeping James secured.
He almost fell out of her grasp. She grabbed him more firmly, and suddenly realized her fingers were too tight.
Then she was stunned. His skin, where she held him, was heating up. It was growing scorching hot, as hers did before she transformed.
“No!” the boy shouted loudly, something he had not done since she’d been in his room. “No! No! It hurts!”
She had lightened her grip, and drawn him against her chest, and she could feel his flesh move as his muscles and bone changed beneath. She could feel the quivers and trembles.
He was sobbing with pain and fear.
What was happening? She had not changed shape for the first time until she had been much, much older. Until she had been almost a woman. Boys did not shift shape until they were almost fully grown also.
The boy screamed in anguish and thrashed in her arms.
Stunned with shock, Lucy managed to stroke his forehead. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “It will stop.”
She felt his arms and legs stretch and become longer. She felt the poor child’s back pulsate, getting ready to form wings.

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