CONCEPTION (The Others) (27 page)

His whole body jerked and his cock surged up against her,
putting pressure on the ring, leaving her no doubt that he remembered how close
she’d come to surrendering everything to him that night. “It is one of my
fondest memories.”

“Can you make me feel like that again?”

His hand left her hip. Light as down, it settle cross the
side of her head, protecting her face from the spray. “Yes.”

“Will you?” His index finger traced her jawline from her ear
to her chin. She didn’t wait for him to apply pressure to lift her face, and
didn’t wait for him to ask the question she could see in his gaze. “For
tonight, I want to forget about everything that’s happened. I want to forget
about everything I’ve lost and everything I’ve got to face. I just want to go
back to that one night and live it like I’ve regretted not doing every day
since. Would you be willing to do that?”

His “Yes” held its own wealth of regret and nuance of hope.
She touched the corner of his mouth with her fingertip. “Good.”

He kissed the pad of her finger and sucked it gently. She
felt the edge of his fang against the side of her finger. Her first instinct
was to pull back, but she stopped herself. This was her man, her mate. She
needed to start as she meant to go on, and running scared wasn’t on the agenda.
She left her finger where it was and concentrated instead on the brush of his
tongue on the sensitive tip. The tingle started in her finger, spread out to
her hand, balled and gathered energy before shooting down her arms, shards of
the tingling energy stroking every nerve ending on the way, until her entire
torso strained for more. She’d probably go to her deathbed wanting this man.

He’d go to his grave wanting her. Almost had once, but she
was here now, with her heart open, asking him to give her his fondest wish. A
night with no past, no future, just the here and now and what they felt for
each other. Deuce looped Eden’s arm back around his neck, keeping his fingers
locked around her wrist, sliding them over her arm until the width of her
forearm forced him to open his hand. Her flesh was soft and smooth, the fine
hairs decorating her skin providing a tantalizing caress to his palm. He would
give her everything she asked for but first they had to deal with something
else. “Before we can put it all behind us, we need to face one more thing. “

She pulled back slightly, a frown between her brows. “What?”

“You need to feed.”

“You told me I didn’t need to drink blood.”

“You need my blood to make you strong.”

She groaned and dropped her head to his chest. “That’s
really going to put a damper on the evening.”

“Not if you let me shield you.”

“You want to start our lives by playing let’s pretend?”

“There is nothing to be proven between us.”

“I’ve always believed in starting as I mean to go on.”

“Trusting your mate to see to your comfort is not a bad
thing.”

“Needing him to is.”

“It is right that you need me.”

“Not like that.”

He brushed his lips over her eyelids, closing them. “Any way
you need. Whenever you need it. I am your mate.”

“Forever.” She said the word with an edge of fear, without
the rejoicing a Chosen would feel.

“Why does that scare you?”

“I can’t even conceive of that long.”

He could, and those endless years had stretched before him with
no end and no relief when he’d thought her dead, but now that she was here, he
could not see it being long enough. “Then in this, you will allow me to guide
you.”

“That sounds suspiciously like an order.”

“It is.” Her only protest was a token shift of her body.

“You need to feed. Feeding will make you strong. If you do
not, all that was done will be undone.”

“Oh God.”

Her stress levels increased. He caught a flash of an image,
of her face grotesquely distorted to that of a monster, mouth gaping open with
red-stained teeth and blood all around. He sighed. She feared turning into
someone like she saw on TV. “That will not happen, Edie.”

“I went crazy before.”

“Your body was unbalanced then. You are balanced now.”

“How do you know?”

He slashed his chest. The blood flowed. He felt the leap of
interest inside her. Her body’s understanding of what it needed, but there
wasn’t the insane urge to feed they had battled before. “I am not holding you
and you have not fallen upon me.”

“But I want to.” Her eyes never left his chest, watching the
blood flow, her expression one of horror and desire.

“The urge to feed is stronger because you have gone too long
without, but you can control it.”

The shower washed the blood away as fast it poured, sending
it in pink rivulets down the drain. “Let me help you, my heart.”

She looked up at him. The confusion in her eyes hurt him in
ways he didn’t know a Chosen could be hurt. He took her hesitation as an
answer. Sliding between her uncertainty and her desire, he clouded the moment,
bringing her mouth to his chest, barricading everything from her knowledge
except his order to drink and the pleasure she gave him as she did so. As her
mouth met his chest, he curved his index finger through the joining ring,
completing the connection.

Her lips and tongue sucked at his flesh, stroking him
softly, not with the hard edge of a Chosen woman but with a delicacy that
worked his lust into a fever pitch. He tugged the ring with the same delicacy,
nurturing her desire and his own. By the time she’d had her fill, his hands
were shaking and he was on the verge of coming. He needed her. Needed to touch
her, to make her his so no other could ever take her away.

He closed the wound with a brush of his hand, sliding his
thumb between her lips, groaning as she sucked it with the same delicacy. He
stood, taking her with him, shielding her from the spray with his body as he
turned off the water. He carried her out of the shower, her weight barely
registering. Such a small, frail body to house such a huge spirit. He put her
down in front of the sink. With her mind still fogged, she swayed. He steadied
her, helping her rinse her mouth—he did not want the lingering taste of blood
to spoil her plans for the evening—before wrapping her in a towel and freeing
her.

She blinked, clutching the towel to her. “Is it over?”

“Yes.” He took another towel and rubbed her hair. The
strands went from dark to light, regaining their curl as he got most of the
moisture out. He touched a long spiral next to her cheek. It wrapped around his
finger. “Your hair is beautiful.”

Her right hand came up immediately, squashing the curl he
toyed with. “It’s the bane of my existence. “

An image flashed of her desire to cut it short.

“It is the joy of mine. You will not cut it.”

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s my hair.”

“And my pleasure.” He closed his hand around the curl.
“Would you deny me that?”

She bit her lip, her gaze dropped. Then her chin came up and
she shook her head. “Not tonight.”

He released the curl, hearing what she hadn’t said. “And
tomorrow?”

She smiled, the edges blunted with uncertainty and
determination. “Tomorrow doesn’t exist.”

“So we agreed.” He tossed the towel on the floor. “Are you
feeling stronger now?”

“You know…I am.”

“Your surprise is insulting. I told you feeding would
strengthen you.”

“Call me a skeptic.”

“Another mate would take offense.”

“But you won’t.” She let go of the towel and linked her
hands around his neck, pressing her soft breasts, with their silky hard tips
into his abdomen. “Not tonight.”

The towel fell, wadding up between them, preventing him the
full impact of her damp skin against his. “No. Tonight is for us.”

“The way it should have been…”

“From the beginning.” He flicked the towel away and pulled
her tightly against him. Damp and moist, rich with her scent and the promise of
completion, her skin melded to his. He ached to his back teeth with the desire
to make her his. Now. No more waiting, no games. He slid his hand through the
tumble of curls, letting them ensnare his fingers the way she’d already
ensnared his soul. She was a wild, sweet, courageous bundle of suspicious
passion, and she was his. From now until the last breath left his body, she was
his. The back of her skull fit his palm as if sculpted to be there. Everything
about her was perfect from her wild curls to the tips of her small toes.
Perfect for him. He tapped the inside of her ankle with his toe. “Spread your
legs.”

She parted them a few inches. Another tap, this time on the
opposite ankle gained him the last few he needed. He stepped back, letting his
cock trail down her belly. When it reached the tip of her sex, he stepped
forward, sliding it down along the crease until his groin met her stomach. Her
nails bit into his forearms as he arched her back, pressing her clitoris into
the wiry hair surrounding the base of his aching cock. Her gasp whispered into
the quiet of the bath.

“Do you like the feel of my cock between your legs, Edie
mine?”

“Yes.”

He nudged her legs a little wider and thrust slightly. “How
much?”

Her “Very much” was more squeak than words.

“You are going to have to show me.”

He bent her back farther until the clean line of her throat
was exposed. Her hair fell away from her face, revealing her bone structure and
the confusion in her blue eyes. “Uhm, don’t take this wrong, but I don’t know
what response you’re looking for.”

“The way your sweet pussy is creaming my cock is a good
start.” The faint pink on her chest flared to a bright red. He ran the edge of
his tongue over the heated flush as it rose up her neck. She swallowed hard,
the underside of her chin, pushing against his tongue as he trailed upward. He
kissed the rounded point of her chin and shook his head, his hair falling
forward to tangle with hers. Light with dark. Male with female. “Now, that was not.”

“What?”

“You held back.” He tested the little crease beneath her
lower lip with his tongue. “I do not approve of your holding back.”

“You don’t?”

He smiled at the breathless little question. He let his
mouth hover above hers, so close a piece of paper couldn’t slide between, but
not quite touching, prolonging the moment before contact, drawing out the
anticipation. Her heartbeat went from gallop to thunder, her vaginal muscles
clenched and released, the slick, wet heat of her labia stroked his cock with a
feminine entreaty that everything male in him roared to answer. He held her
like that for an endless moment, letting proximity and her own imagination
heighten her senses. She sucked in a deep breath. Her pupils dilated and then
contracted. “Do you want my mouth, mate?”

“Oh God!” Edie sagged in his arms. He did not allow her the
respite of distance, just held her there with his hand behind her head, and his
arm across her back.

“That was not an answer.” Her body was already giving him
his answer, her need so strong he could taste it on her scent, but he wanted
the words to come from her. Needed them to. For all the times he’d heard them
in his dreams, this time he needed to hear them in reality.

“Please.”

“You do please me.” He lowered his mouth to hers, gently,
carefully, fitting edge to edge, seam to seam, sealing their lips the way he
wanted to seal their bodies, until even the concept of separation was
unbearable. She responded deliciously, her hips lifting to his, her head
twisting in his hands. He clenched his fingers around a fistful of the damp
locks. Her soft cry at the twinge of pain pelted his mouth at the same time
that her delight swamped his senses. Desire, hope and embarrassment rolled from
her to him in desperate waves. She wanted more, but was shy.

He touched his tongue to her lower lip. “There is no shame
between us. You but need to ask, and I will give you anything.”

He pressed gently until he came in contact with the inner
lining. Her unique flavor rolled through his mouth in an addictive incentive to
pursue more. “Just like you’ll give me anything, will you not?”

“Yes.”

“Open your mouth.” He caught the plump fullness of her lip
between his teeth and bit down gently, taking her gasp as his. “Let me in.”

She didn’t have a choice. Eden opened her mouth and her soul
to his. She might have been able to hold out if Deuce had been rough or
selfish, but his gentleness and patience in the face of the violent desire
shimmering around him touched her in ways she hadn’t expected. He was bigger
than her, a different species than her, capable of doing things she couldn’t
even conceive of. Despite the danger that lurked around him like a dark cloud,
his touch on her back was gentle, controlled, as he slid it down to her
buttocks, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, pulling erotically on the
cleft between as he drew her up and into his kiss.

He was a creature of the dark, but when he held her in his
arms he created light—pure, clear, brilliant light that started behind her
closed lids and exploded through her head, her body, until it consumed her in
the a fiery heat that left her dizzy. He kissed like a lazy summer day, heat
and warmth seducing her into a complacent lethargy. Between her thighs, the
ring heated, adding fuel to the fire in her blood. She slid her hands up over
the swell of the hard muscles in his arms to his broad shoulders, pulling
herself closer to the flames.

He pulled her mouth away. She shook her head. “More.” She
needed more. More of his energy, his heat and the pleasure he held out like a
shimmering enticement.

Deuce bent, swung her up in his arms and strode out of the
bathroom. She turned her mouth into his chest, finding his nipple, licking it,
sucking it, catching the small, flat nub between her teeth and biting down. He stopped
dead halfway to the bed, his head dropping back, his hair swinging against her
arm. “Edie.”