Department 57: Bloody Crystal (8 page)

Nope, she saw nothing like that.

If anything, the house looked empty. Absent of any personality, but it had a potential that took her breath away. The front door opened onto a smallish hallway with a polished wood floor and a row of hooks, presumably for hats and coats, although they were empty. The walls were painted a soft white color.

He pressed a hand into the small of her back, and they went through to the first reception room.

Everywhere the house was in excellent taste, and although the furniture was sparse, it was of good quality. The ground floor had two reception rooms, a dining room, and a kitchen, equipped with an Aga, a modern gas cooker, and all modern conveniences.

When he asked her what she thought, she told him to wait until she’d seen the whole house.

They went upstairs. There were two more floors and above that an attic, which had been converted into a potential office area. They went down to the main floor and into the kitchen. She found a canister with instant coffee in it next to the kettle and decided black coffee was better than nothing, and in any case, it gave her something to do. She busied herself filling the kettle and finding mugs for the coffee. It meant she didn’t have to look at him while she told him what she thought. “What do you think?” he asked her.

“It’s nice. But it has no soul.” That was the problem, she realized. “It’s like a show home. No tatty books, no ornaments that don’t match, nothing
personal
. Did your uncle really live here?”

He sighed. “Yes, but it was a slum. Awful. It stank, and it had old newspapers and garbage in every room. It was as if he’d nested here.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made sure he didn’t want for money, but he wasn’t particularly friendly. Having a nephew who was his several greats older but looked a lot younger than him freaked him out, I guess. So I stayed away. When he died, I tried to find other relatives, but there were none left. None my solicitor could find, anyway. So I got it. I had a choice. I could sell it as it was, or I could refurbish it. I decided to do that, but I don’t want to make a profit. I don’t want it to become a holiday home.”

She turned around, her back to the work surface. “I’m so relieved. I thought it was your taste or something.”

He grinned. “It has no taste. Or at least, I asked the people I employed to do the work to make it neutral. Whoever takes it over can put their personality into it.” He’d taken a seat at the large kitchen table, and now he stretched, putting his hands behind his head.

“In that case,” she said, “it’s perfect.”

“Come here.”

Abandoning the kettle, which would switch itself off once it boiled, she crossed the room and stood between his open thighs. He studied her, his face relaxed and open. She loved that. She guessed his life hadn’t been without its troubles. He slid his hands around her waist.

Then something occurred to her. “You said your uncle is really your nephew. Does that mean he wasn’t a vampire?”

He met her gaze steadily. “Yes, that’s what it means.”

“So—so your family weren’t vampires?”

“Nope.”

She swallowed. “You’re a made vampire.” She caught her breath as he nodded to confirm. She should have realized before, but she’d almost come to think of made vampires as legends. It was so hard to achieve she’d thought it a myth.

“I am.”

“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.”

He got to his feet but kept hold of her, his arms around her waist. “Later. I’ll tell you later.”

And just like she’d dreamed as a girl, he swept her into his arms and took her upstairs.

She wasn’t wearing much. Neither was he. They began to strip each other between kisses and caresses. When he bared her breasts, he paused and lifted one gently. “These are so lovely. Every time I see them, I’m amazed at how beautiful they are.” And he drew her close and kissed her, nestling her against his hard, broad chest. She loved his heat. He always seemed so hot. “I’m not usually this greedy with a woman. I should have taken you for dates, treated you a bit more, but I can’t seem to get past the bedroom. I’m sorry.”

“What for?” She didn’t care. “So I’m a cheap date. So what? It’s what I want too.”

He touched his lips to her forehead. She loved their closeness at these times and the way he let her in. She wasn’t fooled by the casual way he allowed her into his mind. She’d sensed closed areas and hadn’t pushed, feeling that he didn’t do this often. Not that she’d ask. He might close up. He had secrets. She knew that, and she didn’t feel she should press. Maybe natural reticence, the way her parents had brought her up to respect people’s spaces. And the knowledge that this was all they’d have. He’d move on. She’d mourn, but she’d keep that to herself. Maybe they could meet again as friends in the future, and in that case, he might not want her to know too much about him.

He growled low in his throat, kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth in total possession before he gripped her waist and urged her to turn around. “Put your hands on the bed.”

Her heart thudding, she did so. He pushed her down. They were probably the first people to use this bed, if he’d had the house stripped and refurbished. Her hands sank into the soft white duvet.

“Comfortable?”

She nodded.

“You won’t be.” She was naked. He wasn’t. He still wore his jeans, although he’d kicked off his canvas high-tops. They lay askew on the Oriental carpet, incongruous and untidy, making the place instantly more lived-in. She began to warm to the house, especially when he kissed down her spine right to the base. When he stroked his finger gently between the crease of her buttocks, she shuddered and opened to him. The tops of her thighs were damp with her arousal, chilling quickly when he nudged her legs apart.

What was going on? Why didn’t he take her? When she lifted her head, she saw why. The cloudy weather gave a foil to the window, and she saw their images in the glass. While she couldn’t see in detail, she saw his head was lowered, and he was looking at her with an intensity she could almost feel.

Belay that; she did feel it. He was projecting his need into her mind, and—oh…

“Oh yeah.” His voice came so softly she had to strain to hear it. “You look so beautiful there. Lovely curves, and all that pink…”

“Pink what?” Her voice sounded too high. She cleared her throat.

“Just pink.” He touched her labia, fingered her, then pinched her clit. She jumped at the solid shock it sent through her. “Ready or not, sweetheart, here I come.”

He grasped his cock—she saw it through their mental link—and guided it to her wet, inviting pussy. She saw them kiss when they connected, a light contraction of her opening to welcome him, and then he slipped in. Just. But he didn’t linger for long. With one violent thrust, he drove his way inside.

Her mind went blank, her body overdosing on delight as he continued to thrust—deep, hard, and relentless. He kept his fingers on her clit, pinching and tweaking to increase the pleasure he brought her. So deep.

“Feels good,” she managed.

“Yes, oh fuck yes, it does.”

Just the hard pumping of his body into hers would have brought her up, but the action of his fingers made it more intense. Her hands shook, but she braced herself more firmly. No way did she want this to stop. Little shocks gradually increased, waves of sheer sensation coursing through her body, washing her and leaving her clean.

She no longer worried about the sounds she made, and here she didn’t have to worry about alerting neighbors, so she let rip, telling him just what he was doing, showing it with their combined minds. He responded, encouraged her, supported her. Gave her everything.

Her cries increased, and he loved it, or so he said to her. “Never, ever stop telling me. You sound so good. You look so hot. So good, Cerys.”

She came, her pussy clenching helplessly around his cock.

She didn’t know how he held on, but she felt him withdraw, and then he removed his hand from her oversensitive clit and wrapped it around her waist. “Stand up. Lean against me.”

She did. “I’ll do anything if you carry on doing what you do so well.” She turned her head to kiss him. He cupped her cheek and held it while he kissed her, and the scent of her arousal from his fingers wove around them, sent her higher. She had left her scent on him like a cat claiming its possession.

He spun her toward him, then turned them so he backed onto the bed.

He broke the kiss and sat. She stared down at him, the head of his cock red and wet, bathed with the juices from deep inside her body. “Do vampires take from each other?” she asked him.

“Sometimes. But only when they want their connection to be permanent. If we do that, you’ll never be free of me, and I won’t be free of you.”

“Do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Honest.”

He bared his teeth, snapped them together just millimeters from her stomach, then leaned back to gaze at her. His dark eyes softened, his gaze intense. “One day we might. I’ve never said that to any other woman. I’ve fed women before, at their request sometimes, but never another vampire.” He pressed against her back, urging her down onto him. “Now come and sit here. Let’s get comfortable.” He leaned back, rested his weight on his hands, and watched her lower herself onto him. This time she held his cock with one hand while she eased her pussy over him, enclosing him once more.

It felt better. Much better. He penetrated deeply, at a different angle. And this time she could watch him, not borrow images from his mind.

He smiled up at her. “Kiss me.”

Needing no further invitation, she bent her head and accepted his mouth. He cupped the back of her head to hold her close, and she lifted and plunged down on him. She was fast coming to love this position, although she’d never really enjoyed it before. He threaded his hands through her hair, moaned into her mouth, encouraging her to do more. And more.

Holding his body under her, he pressed up with his hips, deep into her as she bore down on him. He kissed her ruthlessly, invading her with his tongue, tasting every inch of her. No images in her mind now, no words, just heat, as if they’d left words behind. They didn’t need them anymore.

He eased the kiss, making it more leisurely, tasting her with a thoroughness she’d never forget. And all the time they moved, driving each other to a joint aim they could almost taste. After she’d come, her only ambition was to help him get there, but now she wanted more. Greedy beyond anything she’d known before, she felt her desire rise. Not in shock waves as it had last time, but in warmth suffusing her body, building to heat.

They were burning up, but she didn’t care.

Then the sun went down.

It stopped him cold. She moved on him, rotated her hips, and then opened her eyes and stared down at him. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. Fuck, she’d been so close.

“We do it. Now,” he said.

Chapter Six

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “We do?”

“If you still want to. Let me be clear. If we do this, we’ll never be free of each other. We’ll always know where the other is, and what they’re thinking, if we open our minds. We’ll be linked irrevocably. I’m told that a constant denial might one day work out, but that’s all that can kill it. But I want to do it, with you.”

And because he left his mind open to her, she saw his concern and his deep caring for her. Not love—she didn’t sense that in him. But everything else. “We could be like siblings?”

“Not while we’re doing this.” He moved, and his cock slid deeper inside her. She swiveled her hips on him and found a new way to pleasure.

Her orgasm had faded, or so she thought, but she’d kept it there, simmering under the surface. The concept of a blood exchange with this glorious, fascinating man only increased its potential intensity.

“Yes. I want to.” The first vampire since her parents, and the only one she’d trust. He’d opened so much to her, she knew she could trust him. Perhaps more. Would he be suggesting this if he didn’t care for her?

Maybe, her heart told her reluctantly, he wants to protect you. This is his way. Whatever. She’d take it.

He moved again, and she responded with another lascivious hip swivel, but they did it slower, more carefully. It heated her. She kept his gaze and slowly brought her face down to his. They shared a long, sweet kiss, unlike the passionate devouring of before but just as heartfelt. It was like sealing an oath.

He drew away, touched his lips to hers once more before gazing up at her. His mouth curved in a smile before he tilted his head to one side and delivered a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, and lower still, working down her throat. His breath seared her neck until he reached her shoulder.

She caught her breath. His action had stretched his throat out for her. In a vampire, a clear sign of invitation. He didn’t speak to her, verbally or telepathically. He just waited. Tentatively she stuck out her tongue and licked him. His whole body shuddered. He kissed her throat. They moved together in a kind of rhythmic dance now, their orgasms bubbling under. Maintained.

She could still change her mind.

She spread her hand over his back, splayed the fingers wide, drew on his strength. Extended her fangs, felt them emerge from her upper jaw. Retractable fangs.

She sank her fangs into his flesh, as easy as a knife going through a block of fresh cheese. The blood spurted. Then she closed her mouth over the place and contained it, sensed its metallic, sweet-sour taste. Her fangs warmed as his blood flowed up the hollow centers, and she fed. She didn’t suck; she let it happen.

A twin prick on her shoulder told him he’d let his fangs emerge, and then came the sweet ecstasy as they entered her body. He fed expertly, neatly. She could tell by the way he closed his mouth around her without sucking. Gentle, so gentle.

The first rush of blood made her close her eyes. Into and out of. Her parents had fed from her before, but only to teach her what it felt like and to bond with her so they could keep tabs on her. She’d never fed from them. That was how she’d known they were in trouble before the news came officially.