Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between (21 page)

Those words were my undoing.

I closed the distance, twisting my body, clasping my hands behind his neck. Our lips came together, his tongue darted inside my mouth, and I met each thrust, moaning against his lips, pulling his face closer, entwining my fingers in his hair.

I dimly perceived him standing with me in his arms, striding out of the room, and carrying me up the stairs. I was aware on some level that once this boundary was breeched, things would change forever between us, but I shoved it into the back of my mind. I was tired of thinking, and Disco was right, we might not have this moment again.

Now all I cared about was being with him.

A door clicked open, and then shut. I opened my eyes.

We were inside the same room I occupied after the Wesley incident. Disco eased me onto the bed, shifting his large frame beside me on the mattress. He lifted his head. Thick blond hair fell in every direction, framing his impossibly golden blue eyes.

“If you want to leave, say so now. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop if this goes any further.” He was panting softly, fevered and eager. I could feel the tension radiating from his body.

I brought my hand up and watched my fingers brush across the black buttons of his shirt, feeling his cool, solid muscles beneath. A wave of shyness and apprehension swept through me. I had attempted to have sex one time in my life and couldn’t go through with it.

My voice trembled, betraying my emotions. “I’m afraid.”

“I would never hurt you.” He spoke thickly, his fingers skimming lightly across my jaw. “If you’re not ready, I’ll stop now.”

“I want this,” I whispered, meeting his heated gaze. “I want you.”

He lowered his head and kissed me gently, without any expectation. His tongue brushed against my lips, prodding them open. I felt his fingers stroking my hair, reaching behind my neck to hold me tenderly. It was staggering that someone so powerful, so dangerous, could be so gentle.

His mouth breezed across my face, light and tender. I felt cool air blowing into my ear, followed by the tip of his tongue as he traced the sensitive shell. I gasped when he sucked in, the sound and sensation causing my body to clench. My right hand grasped his forearm, fingers digging into the shirt. His mouth moved down and he pushed aside the neck of my sweater, nipping at my mark. Like before, desire shot through me in a lick of heat.

“What is that?” I groaned, writhing on the bed.

“Scar tissue from our bites become erotic zones on the body.” He bit down and I cried out as unfamiliar warmth erupted between my legs.

“Oh my God.” I was barely able to contain the tendrils of heat and prickles inside my skin.

“Just wait,” he promised. “You are so beautiful. I can’t wait to see all of you.”

His fingers brushed against the skin on my waist, lifting my sweater. I didn’t feel shy. I was too absorbed in the unbelievable sensations he was wringing from my body. The sweater came off easily, and he tossed it to the floor.

He didn’t take such precautions with his own clothing. He ripped his shirt off, sending buttons scattering into the air. His skin met mine in a wave of silky coolness, like touching solid marble, and I shivered involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” he murmured against my mouth, starting to rise from the bed.

I grasped his arms. “Where are you going?”

“To start a fire. You’ll get colder before we’re finished. We don’t produce body heat, and I’ll steal away your warmth faster than you can produce it.” He grinned at me wickedly. “I take that back. You’ll produce more than enough, but not at the start.”

“Then light the kindling here, the fireplace can wait.”

He slid over me and I ran my fingers along his chest. His muscles were perfectly defined, smooth and solid. His coolness was a bit strange at first, but erotic as well. He was like a living, breathing, seductive statue, with eyes as blue as the ocean after a storm.

I slipped my hand under his arm and outlined the dip of his spine, tracing the hollow edge with my fingers. He kissed me again, lifting up and over. His knee gently nudged my legs apart, and he settled between them, placing his weight at the apex of my thighs.

I felt his fingers tugging on my jeans. The button slid out easily and the zipper came apart. He broke the kiss and leaned upward, intent on taking them off, gently pulling at the cotton on my hips. He stopped mid-tug, eyes unbelieving and focused on my stomach.

Damn it.
I’d forgotten about my scars.

“Oh, Rhiannon.” He traced one of the thick white crescents with the pad of his finger. When he glanced up at me, his gaze held a mixture of pity, a newfound understanding, and anger. “Who did this to you?”

“If I asked you to do something important for me, would you?” I refused to look away.

“You know I would.”

I motioned for him to come back to me, and he eased his body over mine, bracing himself on steady arms.

“I want you to see.” He tried to argue, but I pressed a finger to his lips. “Sometimes the person you trust the most is the hardest one to explain something to. Don’t force me to relive everything all over again, not with you. If you really want to know the girl I used to be, you have to see why she stays so safely hidden. Do you understand?”

“I don’t want to force myself on you, Rhiannon.”

“You won’t be.” I stroked his back, urging him closer. “You’ll be easing a tremendous burden. Once you know, we’ll never have to mention it again. You can make this so much easier for me.” I added in a whisper, “Please.”

I knew he made the decision when his eyes shifted from teal to steely blue. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on me, lips soft against mine as he placed his hands on either side of my face and closed his eyes.

I felt him inside my head, like the fluttering of butterfly wings. He was calm initially, then his body went still. I could feel the rage seething from him, and his arms started to tremble.

When he reopened his eyes, the golden specks inside shone like liquid metal. “If he weren’t dead already, I would kill him myself.”

He stood and lifted me, tossing back the comforter with his free hand. He placed me on top of the pillows and covered me with the blanket before he slid in and pulled me into his arms. Reclining against the headboard, he strummed his fingers through my hair.

I was too astounded to speak. This was not what I expected when he finally looked inside my warped mind. I rested my cheek against the cool skin of his chest and enjoyed the motion of his fingers as they threaded through my hair, gently caressing the skin on my back.

“I just want to hold you,” he told me, his voice a smooth, soothing timbre once again. “I’m going to hold you all night and keep those nightmares at bay. Close your eyes, and think of somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. I’ll make sure you get there.”

I don’t know if I closed my eyes because he asked me to, or because the temptation to have one night’s sleep without nightmares was too tempting to resist. Either way, I lowered my lids and nestled against his chest. His fingers flittered across my hair and skin, and I relaxed, sighing contentedly.

It didn’t take long to reach the pinnacle between dreaming and wakefulness. I found myself at the beach with my parents, that last day we were together as a family. I heard the joyful laughter of a child—my laughter. Mom and Dad danced together in the sand, and my heart brimmed with the love I felt inside. The salty air blew my hair into my eyes, and I thrust it away, turning my attention from the ocean crashing into the surf.

A lone figure watched us from further down the beach, his blond hair shining in the midday sun.

I woke and sighed blissfully, shifting my body against something hard, solid, and surprisingly warm. My lids lifted and a white expanse of smooth, luminescent skin greeted me.

“I slept amazing, thank you,” I murmured, placing my hand across his chest.

Something was different, and it took me a couple of seconds to place the change. His skin was markedly cooler on the opposite side, but only by degrees. He was as warm as I was beneath the comforter.

“Am I keeping you warm?”

He squeezed me gently and said, “You are, and it feels unbelievable.”

I tickled the skin on his stomach with my fingertips, pushing aside the blanket to outline the muscles along his abdomen. He drew in a ragged breath and tensed, the fingers in my hair ceasing to move. He had a trail of blond hair that led from his belly button down. I followed it with the pads of my fingers. The hair was as soft and flaxen as the hair on his head.

“What time is it?” I asked, toying with his stomach.

“I’m not sure.” His breath hitched as my fingernails scraped along the skin. “The dawn came an hour ago.”

“How are you still awake?” I brought my fingers back up his chest, the white skin perfect and smooth. I shifted my body to look at him and rested my palm across his heart, directly over the steady beating.

“We don’t require sleep like you do,” he answered roughly. “It is only the sun we cannot venture into.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked innocently, knowing good and damned well what the answer was. I could see it in those striking multicolored irises.

He flipped me over and buried me beneath him, his eager mouth finding mine as his cool tongue moved past my lips, vanishing deeply inside. I grasped his back, fingernails raking in. He felt good pressed against me, and I remembered how close we came to crossing that elusive bridge between us.

“I won’t stop this time,” he warned. Breaking the kiss, he stared into my eyes. His expression was harsh as he fought to maintain control.

“I don’t want you to.”

He leapt from the bed in an agile movement, removing our shoes in a matter of seconds. He gently tugged the legs of my jeans. Pulling them from my hips, he tossed them to the floor, until all that remained were my black cotton panties and bra. I felt shy, but he didn’t give me the opportunity to become self-conscious. He returned to the bed faster than I could see.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he promised, lowering his head to kiss my ear.

He blew into the canal, teasing the lobe with his teeth and tongue. His kisses drifted past the tender flesh behind my ear, down to my mark. He bit down. Sharp teeth and pure erotic bliss overcame me. My body thrashed, and I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in, clutching his hair in my fists. He bit down again, using greater force, and my breath came out in spurts.

His lips descended, barely touching the skin, stopping at the hollow of my throat. He placed a kiss into the soft, sensitive flesh, raining affection along my collarbones. His mouth skimmed across my chest, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed across the nipples through the lace and the hot spasm in my stomach extended, soaking my panties in liquid heat.

“I’m taking this off,” he told me, reaching behind to unclasp my bra. I arched my back and he pulled the flimsy material away.

The cool air hit my bare skin just before his mouth covered an aching nipple. His fingers worked at the other breast, teasing the responsive area with his thumb and finger, rolling and pinching the taut flesh. I had never experienced anything so erotic in my life. Sounds caught in my throat as I pushed my head into the pillows, moving from side to side.

A desire flourished inside me, an emptiness that needed release. I moaned aloud, lifting my hips and raking my fingers into his shoulders. His tongue flicked and sucked in a repetitive motion, mirrored by the deliberate motions of fingers on the other side.

I couldn’t remain still. I felt hot and needy. I writhed under him, rubbing against the erection along the inside of my thigh. He released the nipple from his mouth and moved to the other breast, fingers working at the now wet, pebbled skin while his mouth teased and tormented.

He released my breasts, kissing each softly, and made a trail of kisses along my stomach. His tongue dipped into my belly button and I groaned, reaching for his plush blond hair and threading my fingers through it. He moved lower, pausing to graze his lips across each scar along my pelvis.

Fingers crept up to pull the panties from my body, easing them down each leg. His face continued past my hips and the first wave of unease overtook me.

“Wait,” I gasped, experiencing my first tinge of uneasiness.

“What’s wrong?” He paused with his fingers around the delicate bones of my pelvis.

“I’ve never…” I flushed. “No one has ever done that before.”

“You’ve never been with anyone like me before. Why should this experience be anything but new? Trust me, Rhiannon. I’ve been dying to taste you.”

He continued his chosen path, blond head going lower as I stared at the ceiling, trembling uncontrollably. His hands parted my thighs, his cool breath brushed the folds of sensitive skin, and his face descended.

I had heard stories about oral sex from women at the club; most of them swore they preferred it to the actual thing. I never understood what the fuss was about until I experienced the first touch of his tongue, parting me, exploring where no one had ever dared kiss before. Disco’s mouth settled over me and I sucked in air, making mewing sounds in my throat, arching my back and grasping the sheets in my fists. The pleasure was unbelievable, so good I wanted to scream.

“Disco.” I moaned his name, unable to remain still.

A pressure started to build in my stomach, a summit so close that all I needed to do was reach out to take it. Each flick of his tongue brought it closer, then closer. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and embraced the climax that was surfacing, wanting to know what waited for me at the other side.

I was almost there.

His tongue flicked my swollen clit and sent me over the edge. My body felt as if it exploded, becoming pure light. I thrashed with each new wave of pleasure that assaulted me, soft whimpers escaping my throat. I rode the high until it left my body limp and sated. A wave of euphoria swept through me and I stilled, lax and breathless.

“Delicious, like warm vanilla sugar,” Disco growled against my stomach, kissing the scars again, lavishing attention on each one.

He followed the same trail back up, returning to my breasts. His mouth latched onto a nipple and his fingers returned to the opposite side, leaving me gasping. His lips brushed against my sternum, kissed the hollow of my throat, and traced the curve of my neck. I moaned, hands on the contours of his back and shoulders. I pressed my face into his throat, breathing in his own tantalizing scent, pushing against him so that his skin would cool the hot flush spreading over me.

He stared down with adoring eyes, the blue depths shifting with each layer, the gold still visible but not as much as before as my sight no longer as strong or as viable.

“This is it, Rhiannon.” He kissed my lips reverently. “If you want to say no, the time is now. I will love you the rest of the day without taking that extra step if that’s what you want. I would love nothing more than to spend the morning tasting you.”

“No.” I shook my head, leaning up to kiss his neck, brushing my lips along his smooth skin. “I want you. I want this.”

“Then look at me,” he whispered hoarsely.

I looked into his eyes and felt him prodding at the core of my body. I trembled all over, hands and shoulders shaking as he eased into the welcoming liquid warmth created by his mouth and my arousal. His body still cooler, and therefore, easy to distinguish from my own.

He moved, carefully pushing forward. He was large and foreign inside my body, the more of him I took in, the greater the discomfort that intensified. I tried to relax, eager to experience this new brand of intimacy.

Suddenly, he stopped, glorious blue eyes expanding in surprise.

“You’ve never done this before.” He made it a statement, not a question.

“Is that a problem?” I felt my face burning again. I thought a girl was supposed to be embarrassed by having too many sexual partners, not too few.

“No, it’s not a problem. It’s an honor. One I’ve never been given before.” He kissed my forehead tenderly, and brought his hands forward to cup my face. “I swore I wouldn’t hurt you, and I’ll do my best to keep my word. Stay with me.”

He continued staring into my eyes as he moved forward again. I tensed at the odd inner burning, forehead creased. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, gasping softly. He stopped and retreated, giving me a moment before starting again. The burning returned and I breathed through my nose, tensing beneath him. He cursed and pulled away, pressing his lips to my neck.

His mouth settled over my mark, teasing the area with little nips. Heat surged beneath my skin as he bit down, bringing on that swamping erotic euphoria, and he joined us together in one hard thrust.

The pain was as intense as the orgasm that came with it. I screamed without sound, my voice box failing to work. He was buried deep within my body and I convulsed, burrowing my fingers into his skin, lifting my shoulders off the mattress. I turned my face into his shoulder, holding him tightly until the shudders subsided.

“Are you all right?” he whispered against my ear, remaining completely still.

“Yes.” I was barely able to speak, my body reeling from aftershock tingles.

He gave me a moment to become accustomed to the intrusion of his body. Then, pausing to touch his forehead to mine, he withdrew. When he slid back into the heat of my body, the sharp burning was replaced by a feeling of fullness. He buried himself completely inside me and released the breath he had been holding.

“Christ,” he groaned, throwing back his head. The light above surrounded him, framing his perfection for my eyes. “You’re so warm and tight. You feel wonderful, Rhiannon. Perfect.”

He started moving in a slow, steady rhythm, lowering his mouth to kiss me, caressing my face with his hand while moving in gentle exquisite movements. His practiced fingers grasped my hips, encouraging me to match his rolling thrusts. The delicious heat started to spread, rushing through my limbs until I mirrored each motion without his guidance.

“There you go,” he whispered huskily. “Come for me, Rhiannon.”

Trembling started anew. My body heated as my skin prickled. I squeezed his hips, acclimating to his rhythm and matching it. I reached for that explosive feeling once more, tumbling over as my body lifted and detonated yet again.

My loud moans were buried inside his mouth as he kissed me, moving harder and faster. His tempo increased, hands pressing roughly into my hips and holding them in place. Our bodies moved together in unison and I gasped into his mouth, my body complacent under him as he reached for his own version of heaven.

He thrust into my body in one sharp stroke, bringing himself into me until all I could feel was him, both inside and out. His entire body shuddered and I felt him pulsing within, a cool wetness spreading where we were joined. He groaned into my hair and blanketed my body like a brisk breeze.

Hoisting onto his elbows, he peered down with concern and worry. “Did I hurt you?” he asked softly.

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m wonderful.” I laughed through shallow intakes of air, pressed a fast kiss to his mouth, and fell back on the pillow. He relaxed, returning my smile. He lowered his head and kissed my throat, nuzzling my ear.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my mark. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”

“Thank you for making it worth the wait,” I teased, biting my bottom lip as a smile formed. I could definitely see why people enjoyed the experience. I was already thinking about round two.

He slowly pulled himself from the heat of my body, lifting away and standing. My protests were silenced as he pulled me into his chest and took us across the room. Pushing open the door across from the bed, he carried me into the bathroom. Lights flickered and shrouded us, glowing brightly against the white tiled floors and wallpaper.

“What are you doing?” I asked anxiously, aware of our nakedness in the bright fluorescent lighting.

He opened the glass door and stepped inside. “I’m going to take a shower with you.”

A steady spray of water shot out from two different spouts on the adjoining walls as he fiddled with the levers with his free hand. He waited until the water was heated before lowering me to the ground. My bare feet touched the cold tile, and I crossed my arms over myself. Without my shoes, I only came to his chest. As if sensing my shyness, he pulled me into his arms and turned so the water streamed down his back and over our skin.

I glanced down at the trickle against my leg and gasped. I knew people often bled the first time, but not like this.

“What’s wrong?” He moved away and peered down.

“The blood,” I said weakly.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He pulled me back into his arms. “That’s me, Rhiannon. Our body excretes blood. It’s the source of our life, and it inhibits all our bodily functions.”

He pivoted so I was under the warm stream. Tilting my head, I allowed the water to cascade through my scalp, wet hair clinging to my back. The duel showerheads steamed up the space, fogging over the glass, giving the illusion of cover.