The Raven (33 page)

She bit her lip in anticipation, squinting against the darkness at the beautiful man who knelt before her.

“Very lovely,” he murmured as his fingers traced a pattern over the lace.

Then, with a quick rip, her underwear was gone.

Raven held her breath, eyes wide.

“Cassita,” he said gently.

He placed his hand over her heart. “Your heart rate is too fast. Breathe.”

She struggled to breathe deeply, excitement and anxiety still overtaking her.

William’s thumb stroked the skin beneath her right breast.

“You aren’t a virgin. Why are you so anxious?”

“It’s been a long time,” she managed to say, feeling shy.

“Humans are fools,” he muttered. “Your figure is perfect—lush and attractive.”

He kissed down the center of her body, stopping just above her pubic bone.

He closed his eyes and inhaled.

“You smell incredible.”

He reached up to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to lick you until you climax, then I’m going to enter you and you’ll climax again. Don’t forget to breathe.”

He moved back and placed his hands on her upper thighs. “Open.”

She did as she was bidden. Then his mouth was between her legs.

Raven’s head sank back on the pillow and she closed her eyes, focusing entirely on the incredible sensation of his cool tongue on her most private places.

There was something exceptionally erotic about having a powerful being between her legs, eagerly giving her pleasure.

She clawed at the sheets, a series of moans escaping her throat.

William lifted his head, remarking her reaction with a wicked grin. Clearly he was enjoying himself. He teased and licked, nipped and sucked, before closing his mouth over her.

Raven’s body tightened as she came, then she floated on a wave of pleasure before crashing down.

She tried to pull away, but he held her to his mouth, coaxing every last tremor out of her body until she finally collapsed against the bed.

Then he arced over her, hand against her hip, and pushed inside.

She was still sensitive and felt herself stretched beyond what she thought she could take.

William cursed and withdrew before filling her once again, very slowly.

He brought their noses to within inches of one another and brushed the hair from her eyes.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She glanced up at him, at eyes that burned into hers.

“Don’t think. Give yourself over to pleasure.” He moved inside her, withdrawing and plunging forward, again and again.

The strokes were deep, intense, but the pace was slow.

Raven placed her hands on his lower back and slid them to his backside, urging him to increase his speed. She felt his muscles flex and contract under her grasp.

He bent down to take her breast in his mouth and she closed her eyes, groaning in delight.

A few more strokes, a few more kisses and nips to her breast, and she was orgasming again.

William nuzzled her neck and licked at the flesh, biting her gently.

She ignored him, focused as she was on the feeling that spread from her insides throughout her entire body.

His pace increased slightly but he gave no sign of coming.

“Are you—?” she managed to say, still in the throes of an incredible climax.

“No.” He grinned at her knowingly before kissing her neck once again. “I can go for hours.”

Raven felt the last of her orgasm recede. She rested her hands on his lower back, stilling him.

“Did you say hours?” She panted, out of breath.

“Yes.” He kissed her lightly. “Prepare yourself.”

He began moving inside her once again.

Raven lifted up to kiss him.

“Nothing could have prepared me for this.” She spoke against his mouth, her breathing uneven. “It feels incredible.”

His expression darkened, but only for a moment. Then he rolled to his back, pulling her astride him.

She’d just come down from her third orgasm when he placed her beneath him once again, his rhythm increasing.

“Eyes,” he commanded, his hand at her jaw.

She looked up and saw desperation and need.

His pace quickened, far faster than any human man could manage. She reached for his lower back, simply to hold on.

He strained and pushed above her, every muscle in his body tense. Then, with a roar, he stilled inside her and released. His mouth dropped to her neck and he sucked at her skin, a curious and extraordinary pleasure radiating from that spot throughout her entire body.

His release seemed to last much longer than normal, far outstripping the pulsing inside her.

When he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head, he regarded her curiously.

“Are you all right?” She touched his face, his brow, his chin.

He pressed his lips to hers.

“You’ve ensnared me, Cassita,” he whispered. “I’ve never been less eager to escape.”

D
awn poured sunlight through the open balcony doors into the bedroom, spilling onto Raven’s face.

She opened her eyes, peering with disappointment at the empty space beside her.

William was magnificent. He was Cupid. A god.

He’d been attentive and passionate, truly an expert lover.

He hadn’t showered her with pet names or paid her extravagant compliments. But he’d been tender and affectionate and when he orgasmed, he looked as if he’d truly been overcome.

He was attracted to her and she believed she’d captured his interest, if only until this morning. But he didn’t care for her. Not really. From what he’d confessed already, he never would.

She stretched her hand experimentally over the mattress, shifting her legs. The space between her legs was tender, which wasn’t surprising. When William had confided that he had tremendous stamina, he spoke the truth. She’d had three orgasms to his one, and that was only because he was worried about hurting her. When she was used to him, he said, he’d multiply that number.

The vampyre was insatiable.

She closed her eyes, chiding herself. She knew better than to become attached, sexually or otherwise, to someone who didn’t truly care for her. And there was the small matter that William wasn’t human.

In the harsh light of day, no doubt he’d seen her as she truly was and fled. It had happened before. This was why it was better to be alone and to accept one’s solitude rationally and cheerfully.

“My lark awakes.” A masculine voice broke into her musings.

Raven turned toward the balcony so quickly, she found herself entangled in the sheets.

“Good morning.” William was standing in the open doorway, naked, his arm lifted above his head to rest on the doorpost.

In the sunlight, his pale skin burnished bronze, complementing his pale eyes and blond hair. His figure was a study in male perfection, every muscle defined and honed, especially his chest and abdomen.

“You’re handsome.” The words escaped her mouth before she could consider them, her eyes drinking him in.

He smiled and dropped his arm. “You’re pretty. Especially now, with your dark hair mussed and your cheeks a little pink. You look as if you’ve been bedded and bedded well.”

Raven smiled down at the sheets, unable to meet his gaze. “I was. Three times.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I noticed you were gone.”

William nodded, noting the way she’d woven part of the sheet through her fingers. Her green eyes were fixed on it as if it had the answer to life itself.

“I held you for some time, but I grew restless.”

She flexed her fingers.

He turned away from the door and she was treated to a frontal view of his body. Not even the greatest sculptures of the Renaissance could rival his symmetry of form.

“You don’t need to wake up yet.”

She smiled her thanks and tried not to stare.

“Why so quiet?” William’s brow furrowed.

“Why me?”

“Why you?” he prompted.

Raven pulled the sheet up to her shoulders.

“There are lots of human women you could choose from. And there’s the red-haired vampyre. She’s gorgeous.”

William wore a distasteful expression. “Aoibhe is an ally; nothing more.”

Raven contemplated his answer, wondering why she felt suspicious.

“In comparison with the others, I’m practically celibate. I don’t engage in intercourse everytime I feed and my assignations are carefully chosen.” He watched her face to discern her reaction.

She gazed at him curiously. “You said once that you didn’t know how sex as a vampyre compared with what it was when you were human.”

William nodded, appearing uncomfortable.

“What did you mean?”

His jaw flexed. “I meant that as a human being I never engaged in sex.”

Raven’s mouth dropped open. “How old were you when you became a vampyre?”

William turned away to look out over the gardens. “The world was different then. I was different then. At the time of my transformation, I was a novice in the Dominican order.”

“You were a priest?” Raven practically shrieked.

He pinned her to the bed with his dark glare. “I was in formation to become a priest. Novices take the same vows.”

Raven murmured an oath.

“I haven’t spent a great deal of time thinking about it, but it’s clear the chains I wore in life still bind me. I enjoy sexual relations but intemperance repulses me.”

“I don’t see how a priest—I mean, a novice—could become a vampyre. Wouldn’t you have crosses and relics on you at all times?”

“We are alike, you and I. We both hate God. You hated him into atheism and I hated him into a cursed supernatural transformation.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you continue to share my bed, it’s possible I will tell you how it came about. But not this morning.” William turned his back on her.

Raven realized she’d been dismissed.

Without a word, she swung her legs over the far side of the bed, facing the closet.

She wrapped the sheet around her naked body, fashioning it into a toga, and hobbled over to her overnight bag.

“What are you doing?”

She heard his voice but didn’t look up. “I’m getting dressed and having breakfast.”

“Why? It’s early yet.”

She withdrew underwear and a T-shirt from her bag. “You said ‘if ’ I continue to share your bed. I know regret when I hear it.”

He strode toward her. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about being content with what I have and not deluding myself into reaching for something more.”

“You aren’t making sense.”

“Actually, I’ve come to my senses.” She glanced at him without making eye contact. “If you give me the room, I’ll change and you won’t have to watch.”

William pulled the clothes from her hands. “Maybe I’d like to watch.”

“So you can make fun?”

“Of what?”

She gestured to herself. “Are you really going to make me say it? Look at me.”

His eyes bore into hers. “I am.”

His look was heated, full of desire.

Raven turned her gaze to her feet. “Thin is beautiful.”

He scoffed. “Thin is an indication of ill health and weakness.”

Raven gave him a quizzical look.

He stroked his chin absently. “I’d forgotten about this aspect of human culture. For the most part, I ignore the workings of your world, unless there’s something that particularly interests me. You, for example.”

He placed a hand to her hip. “When I was human, slender women had a low survival rate. They were considered sickly, infirm, and definitely not beautiful.”

“You don’t mind my weight?”

He brought his hand to the top of the sheet, where she’d twisted it under her arms.

“Let me look at you.”

“I’m naked.”

“Precisely.” His gaze darted to her breasts as he pulled the sheet from her body. He stood there, his eyes roaming her figure with undisguised appreciation. “You’re an attractive woman, Raven.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. She felt conspicuous, embarrassed. She bent to pick up the sheet but he took her hand, leading her over to his painting of
Primavera
.

He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I can see you may need a little convincing. Take a moment and examine the painting, focusing on the female forms.”

“I know what they look like.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m an art restorer, remember?”

“You may have looked at them, but you haven’t seen them. Look again.”

Raven began at the left of the painting with the figure of Mercury and moved to look at the three Graces.

“They’re certainly healthy.”

“Look on the Graces before examining Venus. Remember, these are depictions of the ideal of feminine beauty.”

“According to Botticelli.”

William squeezed her shoulders. “Botticelli recognized beauty when he saw it. He admired Simonetta Vespucci, for example, and she was extremely attractive.”

Raven turned her head to the side. “You aren’t making me feel better.”

“That’s because you aren’t paying attention. Look at the women’s stomachs.”

She did as she was told. “They’re rounded.”

“They’re healthy.” William brought his hands to her abdomen and placed them flat against her. “As are you.” His lips found her ear. “And their breasts?”

Raven shuddered at his nearness.

“It’s difficult to make out but they look full.”

William brushed her hands aside and cupped her breasts, reveling in the weight. “You’re far more voluptuous. Far more pleasing to my eyes, my hands,
my mouth
.” He kissed her ear. “What about their bottoms?”

“They’ve got back.”

“Back?”

“Um, they have substantial bottoms.”

“Hmm.” William slid his hands down the curves of her sides and her hips before gripping her backside. “You have an excellent, round bottom. It pleases me to hold it while I’m inside you.”

He stepped in front of her, facing her. “In other words, Botticelli’s ideal women look like women and not boys. They’re soft and curvaceous. Healthy and rounded. Women of the size figured in this painting were considered beautiful for centuries, if not millennia. They were the aesthetic ideal during my lifetime and long after.”

He brought his mouth to her neck before whispering, “My ideal hasn’t changed.”

Without a word, Raven wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him as he carried her to bed.