Waterlocked: An Elemental World Novella (11 page)

Was she? A part of her was frightened. Exposed. “Please, just—”

He struck hard and fast.

She gasped, “Oh, sweet heaven. No wonder humans like this so much.”

“Oh, Gem,” he moaned. He didn’t only bite her once. The sharp pleasure-pain was repeated on the other side of her neck, where he latched on and drank in hard pulls. She felt him swell and pulse inside her, the pumping of his heart roaring in her ears. Finally, he let go, only to roll over and push her up so he could pierce the soft underside of her breast with his teeth, all the while thrusting with lazy rhythm as she started to feel the effects.

“Your blood—” He pulled away from her left breast to nuzzle her right, murmuring against her skin. “—is like the finest wine. So sweet. Bloody hell, you’re amazing.”

“No one…” She could barely speak. Her head was spinning. “No one’s ever bitten me before. I never let them.”

She heard Terry growl and he bit harder, but it only made her moan in pleasure. She was past climax. She had come every time his teeth punctured her skin, but he had still not spent himself. Her fangs ached in her mouth.

It wasn’t pleasure she wanted.

As if reading her mind, Terry finally pulled away, and Gemma leaned in, licking her blood from his lips. Delving into his mouth as he groaned. Stroking his fangs with her tongue. They were still joined, so she took a moment rocking in his embrace, inhaling the scent of him before she tugged his ear, exposing his neck to her eyes.

“Oh yes,” he moaned. “Fucking hell, Gem.”

She took a moment to appreciate what a fine specimen her mate was. Strong. Virile. A cord of muscle ran up his neck. She nudged his chin up, exposing the soft, vulnerable skin at the base of his throat. He had other such vulnerable places. Another time, she would explore them all. But for now…

“Bite me,” he growled. “Now.”

“Patience,” she purred, licking up the side of his neck. The anticipation was always half the fun.

“I’m out of patien—God yes!”

His blood burst into her mouth. Rich, thick, not sweet. It was heady with the flavor that teased his skin. Redolent with salt and wind and pulsing with life. It filled her mouth and poured down her throat as she drank him in. Gemma grabbed onto him, pressing his neck to her mouth, angling his head back as his body arched in pleasure and he exploded beneath her. His hands were thrown out, bracing himself as she rode him.

It could have been hours or minutes. She lost all concept of time. There was only him. Filling her every sense.

The feel of his skin, so different from her own.

His scent. He smelled of the sea and the cold whipping air that crossed the ocean.

Terry’s touch was a riot of sensation. Hard and gripping. Soft and teasing. And she wanted more more more. It would never be enough.

His amnis followed his blood, teasing down her neck, between her breasts, fluttering over her belly before it spread to her limbs. Filling her, surrounding her. Like a single drop of blood in water, he spread and filled every corner. They were one. Joined in every way. Gemma almost wept with the joy of it. She was replete with love.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin, feeling the hot tears slip down her cheeks. “It was more than I could imagine, too.”

She pulled away from his neck and Terry sat up straighter, limp with pleasure, but smiling. He cupped her face and brushed the tears from her cheeks, kissing her trembling mouth as he soothed her.

“Oh Gem.” He kissed her again, still smiling. “There’s my girl. There you are, luv.”

She threw her arms around him and let him hold her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, wife.” Terry stroked her hair and rocked her as she trembled. “It was well worth the wait.”

Gemma lay soft and sated in Terry’s arms. “I feel very vulnerable on this boat.”

“I’ll admit, that was the idea. Forgive me, but you can be a bit prickly when we’re—”

“No literally. Vulnerable. Our position has been compromised. We sunk the boat and shorted out all the electrical equipment aboard, but the fact remains that someone found us once, and there is no guarantee that whoever it was didn’t tell someone else.”

“Oh.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“So, that was the plan?” she finally asked. “Isolate me and then seduce me over and over until—”

“You enjoyed the seducing part; don’t lie.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You played me.”

“I did.”

He was still as a statue, his arms around her tense.

“Well played, sir.”

She felt him relax and pull her even closer.

“I figured about a fifty-fifty chance that you’d kill me when you figured it out.”

“It’s a good thing I love you so much, then.”

“A good thing indeed.” He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “A very good thing. But you’re right. We should make land as quickly as possible.”

“We’ll have to approach the house with caution. Leonor knows it’s ours.”

“True.”

“So how long to get there?” She stood and began pacing the cabin. She was a bit worried until she saw his expression. “Terry?”

“Eh… I might have been dragging out the journey a bit.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How long?”

He glanced at the clock in the cabin. “This little thing isn’t hard to move if I just use my amnis… I could have us there an hour or so before dawn.”

“What, have we just been going in circles or something?”

His smile turned into a laugh, which turned into a roar. She punched his shoulder.

“You’re an ass, Terry.”

“But I’m your ass.”

“An
ass
! You know I don’t like being on the water, but you still—”

He pulled her down and stopped her mouth with a hard kiss. “Well played, remember?”

“And you’ll never be able to pull this again.”

“I should hope not.”

He patted her bum and rose from the soft pallet on the floor. Gemma looked around the room with a bit of sadness. To be completely safe, they’d have to get rid of the boat. Since it had been found once, it could be found again. It wasn’t
 
large enough to defend properly and was useless for stealth…

“We’ll have another built,” Terry said, catching her expression. “If you like, I’ll build you a hundred.”

She shrugged. “It’s hardly necessary. But I do admit a certain fondness for this little room.”

“I do, too.”

Brushing off her melancholy, she focused on the tasks ahead. “Things in Spain could be quite interesting.”

“Since I told Leonor we were coming to negotiate that trade agreement with the Moroccans, I imagine you’re right.”

She gasped. “Terry! You included some business on our honeymoon?”

“Thought you’d appreciate the multi-tasking.”

“You do love me.”

“I know my girl.” He checked the video feed for the boat one more time before he held out a hand. “Can’t have you bored now, can we? Ready for general mayhem, luv?”

“Lead the way.”

The voyage to the mainland went quickly, with Gemma hiding inside the main cabin to avoid the stinging winds of the Atlantic as they made their way to the
Rias de Galicia.
The Northwest corner of Spain was marked by numerous jagged “
rias
,” deep sheltered bays dug into the granite of the Galician coast. It was an area ruled by the water. Tourists mingled with mussel farmers. Small sun-baked villages butted up to the water and tiny islands dotted many of the rias, making each a world unto itself in many ways. Terry and Gemma had a large house just outside of Muros in the Ria de Muros, one of the larger, warmer rias.

It was an area with little to no regular vampire population, but a surprising number of immortals used the place for meetings. It was convenient to reach from Northern Africa, France, and Spain, so many immortals with shipping interests made their way to negotiate deals or spend “quality time” with their allies.

Ria de Muros was a neutral place—as much as any place was neutral—and had the advantage of beautiful scenery and lively Spanish nightlife. Further, it was well within Leonor’s territory. And Leonor was known for fierce fairness.

The only drawback to their home in Muros was that it was known. They had an unassuming safe house outside one of the smaller villages, but their larger home would be watched. Gemma looked with longing toward the lights of the comfortable house that reflected in the water. If anyone had broken in or was laying in wait, she would be very put out.

“There’s not enough time tonight,” she heard Terry mutter as they drew closer in the small raft he’d inflated to take them to shore. “Not secure, luv, we’ll have to stay in the safe house until tomorrow.”

“Damn. They better not have touched the household staff.”

“They were sent to fail, remember?” He turned the boat around and headed back to the Conquest. “Whoever was sent after us was meant to fail. Which means whoever sent them is expecting us. They also probably know that we know. They’ll make their play in the open first. This is Muros. If they’re meeting us here, they’ve come for negotiation.”

Despite the late hour, it was tourist season, so the sounds of live music drifted across the small harbor that fronted the town. Even at four in the morning, humans could be heard in the taverns and on the streets. It was only part of what made the town—and the country of Spain in general—so appealing to vampires.

Tucking her into his side, Terry steered the small inflatable away from the larger town and into the black night. They cut across the water, making their way to the safe house tucked into the hills. As soon as Gemma’s feet touched land, she breathed deeply, sinking her feet into the rocky soil and drawing deeply from the energy of the earth. It sang beneath her, warming her bones and making her blood rush.

“Hmm.” Gemma turned to see Terry blinking a little and looking around. “That’s odd.”

“Do you feel it?” The energy filled her. She almost felt like laughing, despite the danger they were in. “With my blood, do you feel it?”

Terry shook his head. “I’m sure it’s not what you feel, but there’s definitely something different.”

She reached a hand out and grasped his. “You’re warmer, too.”

“Am I?” He threw a simple pack over his shoulder and tugged her up the path leading to the rock cottage hidden in the hills. From the outside, it looked like an old, abandoned house, but Gemma had dug into the hills, creating a very comfortable, if small, shelter for them with three secured rooms. When they were in Muros, they sometimes abandoned the parties and meetings to hide there, just for a bit of privacy.

“It feels different,” she said shyly. “I imagine this will take some getting used to.”

“I imagine so.” He moved as confidently over the rocky ground as he did in the water. “Are you glad, Gem? I’m glad.” He abruptly stopped and she almost ran into him. “I’d never imagined you loving me like this. Are you happy? You feel happy. I don’t even know how I know that, but—”

Terry stopped when she kissed him. Finally, she pulled away. “Completely unexpected, Terry. Loving you was never the plan. I think that just makes it better, don’t you?”

His eyes crinkled in the corners a bit when he smiled. She’d never noticed how attractive that was before. “You and me?” he said. “We won’t ever be bored, will we?”

“Never.”

Chapter Nine

Terry woke that evening with Gemma curled into his side, reading a folder he’d brought from London that detailed their current agreement with Leonor regarding trade in Morocco. He lay still and quiet, appreciating the scene before he began what he knew would be a long night.

There had been a few moments like this in his immortal life, moments he knew at the time were life-altering. Change came slowly when you had hundreds, possibly thousands, of years to live. Change was approached cautiously. With respect. A single turn could alter eternity irrevocably.

But this change...

He had dreamt of it. Fantasized about what it would be if she loved him as he loved her. What it would mean for them both to be true partners? He had no way of predicting how this would change them, but he knew in his heart that it would be for the better.

“You’re thinking quite loudly, darling.”

“I love that,” he said in a voice rough from sleep.

“What?”

“‘Darling.’ You calling me darling. I love that.” He saw her hide her face a bit in the paperwork. “What?”

“I’ve called you that for years in my mind. I just didn’t say it.”

He couldn’t stop the smile. “Why not?”

She only shrugged, which was fine. He knew how to read her by now. He pulled the manilla folder from her hands and placed it on the small bedside table in the room they now shared.

“Well,” he said, “I like it. So feel free to call me that along with the occasional elitist insult, luv.”

“I am not an elitist.”

He only laughed.

“I’m not! I wasn’t born a lady, Terry. Far from it.”

“No, you weren’t.” He ran a hand over her hair. It was still a bit mussed, which pleased him. “You fought and clawed your way where you wanted to be. Made yourself into the person and the vampire you are today.”

“I did what had to be done.”

“You’re extraordinary. It’s no wonder I love you.”

“And you,” she smiled wickedly and threw her leg over him, “have never pretended to be anything but who you are. You say that I’m an elitist, but you’re a proud, proud man, Terrance Ramsay.”

“I have reason.”

“I know,” she purred before she leaned down to kiss him. “And I love it. Love that you don’t care what anyone else thinks. Love that you make no apologies. You’re proud. And I’m proud to be your mate.”

Forget the priest. That was better than any vow she could speak. He reached up and grabbed her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. He had to have her that very second.

“Love you.” He claimed her mouth with a kiss before he rolled them over, pressing her into the mattress. “So much, Gem.”

“I love you, too.”

She couldn’t say it enough. He reveled in it, moving into her with a satisfied growl. Smiling like a boy as they made love. There was still the barely restrained ferocity between them—they would never be polite lovers—but layering over it was a new tenderness that fed his soul.