Demon of Mine (16 page)

It felt so good to say his name as
she’d always longed to – gasping it from beneath him as he drove
his cock into her, making her moan it again. He squeezed his eyes
shut as she repeated it, forcing years of longing into every
syllable. She kept her eyes open, watching his beautiful face until
something flared white in the corner of her vision.

She turned her head and her mouth
dropped open in involuntary horror. Peeking from behind one of the
not-so-distant rose bushes was a robed figure. It could have been
anyone, as far as Elsie’s blurred vision was concerned, had it not
been for the long, loose hair that gleamed brilliantly red in the
moonlight.

Jenny. She had woken to find Elsie
missing and come looking for her. No doubt she’d gotten much more
of an eyeful than she’d bargained for. Elsie was more aware than
ever that her gown was split nearly to her navel and that her legs
were bare and glowingly white, parted by Damon’s thrusting hips. He
was taking her in long, deliciously deep strokes, grunting either
with the effort, pleasure or perhaps both. Elsie tried to suppress
the moan of delight that came to her lips as he touched a place
inside her that made her want to squirm, but was unable.

Jenny whirled and ran, hurrying toward
the house.

“
Elsie,” Damon breathed,
“is something wrong?”

She turned back to face him and was
met by his dark, half-lidded gaze. “No.” She brushed a kiss against
his jaw, touching the tip of her tongue briefly to his skin. “I’m
just…” She paused as her channel contracted around his cock. “I’m
going to come again.”

He bowed his head and groaned, his
lips brushing her ear. “I’ve waited far too long. I can’t bear it
any longer,” he breathed, his voice strained.

She thought he meant that he was about
to reach his climax, but his actions contradicted the idea.
Pressing his mouth firmly against the arch of her neck, he bit
down, slowly sinking his fangs into her flesh while maintaining his
steady rhythm below. He angled his hips, causing his cock to thrust
against a mind-blowingly sensitive spot, driving the pain of being
bitten from her mind. She writhed as she came, but he held her
anchored against the earth with his hips and his mouth, groaning
against her neck. Her core shrunk around his cock, trying to milk
his seed out of him, but he would not be deterred. He thrust
steadily through her climax, his mouth still pressed firmly against
her neck.

Elsie lay gasping when her climax
faded, feeling her sensitive flesh contract a couple last times
around Damon’s erection. Her blood was fleeing her veins, rushing
into Damon’s mouth as he drank it, making sounds of ecstasy. Her
head swam with dizzying sensations, and her blurred vision seemed
to worsen. A few stars winked at her from above, and then all went
dark.

Chapter 9

Elsie opened her eyes to absolute
darkness and the realization that she had gone blind. Stifling the
scream that tried to rise up out of her, she settled for a moan of
despair.

“
Is everything all right,
love?” A voice sounded from somewhere surprisingly close, as
velvety as the darkness.

“
Damon.” The pleasure that
flared in her was tinged with anxious fear. “Something’s gone
wrong. I can’t see.”

A whisper-soft sound was followed
quickly by a burst of yellow light. Elsie blinked and was surprised
by the sight of Damon, bathed in lamplight. “Oh.” A part of her
wanted to look aside sheepishly, but she couldn’t tear her gaze
from his face. “I thought I’d gone blind.”

“
But you can see perfectly
now, can’t you?”

She nodded, then froze when
realization gripped her. She could see. Perfectly. How long had it
been since she’d seen his face so clearly? He was even more
beautiful than she remembered – perfectly, darkly handsome in every
way. The memory of the night before flooded back to her; the
kissing, the thrusting, the bite… “Oh, Damon. You called me
‘love’.” It wasn’t what she’d meant to say, and worse, her voice
cracked as she spoke, making her aware of the tears that had sprung
to the corners of her eyes.

He stepped toward the bed where she
lay, reaching for her. She tossed back the covers and flung her
feet over the edge, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging
to him, crying and feeling like a fool for it.

He gripped her arms gently and looked
down at her. “You’re not in pain, are you?”

“
No,” she said, trying to
rein in her sobs.

She expected more questions, but he
simply pulled her against his chest and held her, letting her
dampen the front of his shirt with tears. After a few moments, her
sobs finally dried up, leaving her feeling more than a little
ridiculous. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually…”

“
It’s all right. I cried
when I was first changed, too.”

“
You did?”

A wry smile curved one corner of his
mouth. Elsie was struck anew by how wonderful it was to be able to
see it, to read the nuances of his expressions. “Yes, but only when
no one was around to see or hear. I was a sixteen year old boy,
after all – I still had my pride.”

She took a deep breath, swallowing one
last urge to cry. “I’m really changed then? I’m like you now?” She
pulled her arms from around Damon and gingerly felt her face, as if
it would provide some sort of proof.

“
Yes,” he said, just as she
pressed her fingers to the tips of her canine teeth. They were
significantly longer and sharper than before – not just teeth, but
fangs.

The enormity of her transformation
threatened to overwhelm her in a way the suggestion, or even the
promise of it beforehand hadn’t. She was changed. Her illness was
gone. She would never embarrass herself by falling to the floor,
shaking, again. No more smashing the house’s best china, and no
more being confined to a bed and bled. And then, there was the fact
that she was a vampire – a creature of legend. It struck her how
little she knew about her new nature, and with the realization came
a wave of longing, clarifying one thing for sure – she was
thirsty.

She raised a hand to her throat, and
Damon’s gaze followed. “You’re thirsty.” It wasn’t a
question.

“
Very.”

“
Don’t worry. I am
prepared.” He lifted the lantern and illuminated a small table that
stood several feet from the bedside, laden with a tea
tray.

A curious aroma teased her nostrils as
he poured, rich and sweet. When he handed her the full cup, she
peered down and nearly dropped it. “This is blood!” A little bit of
the stuff sloshed over the side, staining the delicate china a
vivid red.

He cupped her hand in his, steadying
it. “What did you expect?”

She stared at the teacup’s
dark, opaque contents. What
had
she expected? Guilt began to creep over her. Her
thoughtlessness stood in stark contrast to Damon’s careful
consideration. He’d waited by her bedside with exactly what she
needed and disguised it as tea so that she could feel as ordinary
as possible while drinking.

“
I know it’s unpleasant,”
he said, indicating the tray with an offhand gesture. “I’ve done my
best to make it easy for you.”

“
I know,” she said quickly.
“I mean, I can see that. Thank you.”

At a loss for what else to do, she
settled for the obvious. Slowly raising the cup to her mouth, a
stomach-turning thought occurred to her. “This blood…”

“
Livestock,” he said
gently. “It came from a cow, the same as you might have had for
dinner before.” A hint of bitterness entered his voice. “I would
never defile you with an innocent person’s blood.”

She lifted the cup and pressed the rim
to her lips.

The blood flowed over her tongue, rich
and faintly sweet, with metallic undertones that tasted strangely
delicious. She emptied the cup, realizing for the first time how
truly tiny it was.

“
Would you like more?”
Damon took it from her hands and started refilling it before she
could reply.

She drank until the teapot was empty,
and somewhere between the second and third cup, the blood lost its
repugnancy altogether. “What now?” she said when she’d finished,
lowering her red-stained cup onto the tray. The drink had left her
feeling energized, and memories of the night before flooded back to
her in breath-taking clarity as the fog of sleep lifted from her
mind. Simply looking at Damon caused her body to warm, an effect of
combined memory and anticipation.

He took a single step toward her,
eliminating all but an inch of the space between their bodies. His
breath stirred her hair, which was loose around her shoulders, and
he clasped one of her hands in his. Intensity flared in his dark
eyes, and for a moment she thought he meant to lower her onto the
bed and take her. It would have been easy enough – she was wearing
a thin silk robe she’d never seen before, and the slide of the
sensuous material against her skin let her know she was naked
beneath it. The revelation sent a fresh pang of desire through her.
“Now I finish the deed,” he said. “Now I make you my
wife.”

The skin between Elsie’s thighs
tingled, though she knew it wasn’t the physical act of consummation
he referred to. That had been done thoroughly, but they had yet to
be married.

“
Time is of the essence,”
he said. “We will exchange our vows today.”

Vows.
Elsie’s knees threatened to wobble, and only knowledge of her
new strength gave her the power to keep them steady. To think that
Damon Remington – quite literally the man of her dreams – was
looking at her with such intensity, telling her that they needed to
marry as soon as possible… “Today?” she breathed, forgetting her
arousal for a moment. “Is there time?”

“
I have everything ready:
an ordinary license from a bishop, a gown…” He turned on his heel,
picking up the lantern again while still holding her
hand.

She let him pull her along, taking in
the features of the room as the soft yellow light revealed them so
clearly that the lamp might as well have been a miniature sun. Not
only could she see again, but her vision was better than it had
ever been. The modest light the lantern put off revealed as much to
her healed eyes as daylight would have before. “We’re in your
bedroom!” she gasped, stumbling when she saw the painted dressing
screen she’d collapsed behind.

He nodded as he steadied her with a
confident hand and strolled forward, pulling her in his wake. “Of
course we are.”

“
I thought we were still in
London.”

“
Then you don’t remember. I
brought you here after I began the transformation, after we
finished making love.” His grip on her hand tightened for a moment,
as if his body was just as susceptible to memories of their joining
as hers was.

“
In the carriage?” She
frowned as she remembered the state of her dress, torn from the
neckline nearly to her navel. “Whatever did the driver
think?”

“
On horseback,” he
corrected her. “I held you in front of me, in the saddle.” He
smiled faintly at her over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I covered
you with my coat.”

“
I don’t remember anything
from last night – at least, not after you bit me,” she said,
searching her mind for some bit of memory of being held tight
against his chest, bathed in moonlight as the horse rocked beneath
her. None came.

“
Not last night. Three days
have passed since we left London.”

Elsie stopped in her tracks, which was
just as well, because Damon had stopped too. “Three days? I’ve been
asleep all that time?”

“
Yes. It takes time for a
body to undergo such a drastic transformation. That’s why I changed
you in the garden back in London instead of waiting to bring you
here. I wanted it done as soon as possible.” He squeezed her hand
again, fixing her with a look that made the breath catch in her
lungs. “And now we must marry immediately, before anyone finds out
what I’ve done. Here, what do you think?”

Elsie stifled a gasp as he swung the
lantern, illuminating a white gown that hung in an open wardrobe.
Long, pristine and trimmed with lace at the sleeves and low
neckline, it looked elegant and expensive. A wide silk ribbon, also
perfectly white, tied below the bust. Tiny pearl buttons ran in a
neat line down the middle, more for show than function. “You mean
for me to wear this?”

“
If it’s to your
satisfaction.”

“
Of course it is. It’s
beautiful.” It was far more decadent than anything she’d ever
worn.

“
Excellent. I borrowed it
from my sister.”

“
It’s not her wedding gown,
is it?” Elsie was suddenly cautious. “I would never dream of taking
the dress she intends to wear on her wedding day.” Lucinda wasn’t
engaged – at least not to the best of Elsie’s knowledge – but the
dress was so fine, it hardly looked like something that had been
designed for mere everyday wear.

Damon shook his head with a dismissive
snort that was somewhere close to laughter. “No. She has no plans
to be married, though she has a distinct fondness for fine dresses,
especially white and blue ones. I think she intends to have a
thousand such gowns made, to be sure she knows what she wants to
wear when she finally marries someday. But don’t say anything about
it to her – she would never admit it.”