Demon Moon (37 page)

He pulled in a shuddering breath. “It means this will last more than five minutes.”

Her eyes widened. But of course it happened so quickly—he hunted for the purpose of feeding, not sex. And even if he tried to draw out the sexual portion, the bloodlust would rise and hurry it along. Then he put them to sleep, so they'd forget.

Would he want her sympathy? “It's comforting to know that you don't screw them again when they're unconscious,” she said lightly, but the kisses she pressed to his fingers, the back of his hand told the truth.
I'm so sorry
.

The corners of his lips tilted into a smile. No, he wouldn't feel sorry for himself, but the soft gratitude in his eyes told her he appreciated her compassion. “Don't mistake me, Savi—those five minutes are bloody glorious. I'm very good.”

The laughter rolled out of her from deep within. This time, Colin allowed her movement as she pushed him over and straddled him, bracing her hands in the mattress on either side of his head. Her lips skimmed over his brow, his cheekbones, his smiling mouth.

“This month…if you feed first, and we have sex again right afterward, it won't be the only opportunity.”

His breath caught, as if in anticipation. Then his eyes narrowed. “I still intend to take this one slowly.”

“No woman would object to that,” she said, and scraped his lower lip between her teeth, let it go to dip her tongue into his mouth. His body tightened beneath hers, and he made a sound of carnal satisfaction deep in his throat.

Her flavor. Was it just that he could taste her at all that affected him so strongly, or was her taste so delectable he couldn't resist it?

Did it matter? It had overcome his preference for hunting, his promise to Hugh, was the reason she was there now. Thank God for momentum—and the passenger who'd pulled on her skirt, made her accidentally swallow the venom.

She slid her tongue over his teeth, teased the tips of his fangs, moaning into his mouth as his palms came up to curve over her hips, then slide down the length of her thighs. His fingers curled, his nails dragging lightly over the sensitive tendons behind her knees. Her elbows weakened and she swayed forward. He tilted his head back, kept her mouth fused to his. Her nipples brushed damp silk.

She broke away, gasping. “Off. Your clothes.”

He licked the soft skin beneath her chin, a hot, wet streak that immediately cooled in the frigid air. The exquisite contrast shivered through her. “Patience, love.”

She didn't have any. “I want to see you. Taste you.” She swiveled her hips over his cock, a blatant declaration of what she wanted to taste.

“Oh, Christ,” he breathed.

“You won't come,” she said, and sat up. Gathering the bottom of his sweater, she revealed the line of dark golden hair below his navel, his tautly muscled abdomen. Solid, lean strength. “We can still take a long time. Unless you bite yourself.”

His gaze was riveted on her hands as she pushed the sweater over his chest. “I'll not likely…Savi, wait.” He rose onto his elbow, caught her wrists. “A condition.”

Her eyes narrowed in mock anger. “You have a lot of those.”

“I prefer to stack the odds in my favor.” But his smile didn't reach his eyes. “You aren't to bite yourself, either. Let me. I'll not torture you, or deny your pleasure…not excessively.”

She hesitated. “Why?”

“I can't come without your blood, and I'll not take it without your leave. It seems a fair trade, does it not?” He lifted his hand to her mouth and ran his fingertip along the inside of her bottom lip. “And because I will not be the cause of any more of your scars. I'll give you what you require; you need not inflict it on yourself.”

She averted her face. Most of the small crescent scars were old, barely ridges in the smooth inner flesh, yet she should have known he'd notice them. “I just bit too hard sometimes. They wouldn't.”

His fangs flashed as he grinned. “
I
will.” He released her wrists, pulled the sweater and undershirt over his head.

Her fingertips circled his flat nipples. No hair on his chest. The smooth play of muscle beneath his skin fascinated her, and she slid her palms over his pectorals, his shoulders, his arms. “What do you like best? If I'm to make love to you, I want to do it right.”

His hands stilled with his trousers half unzipped. She took over for him, rasping the tab down, tugging at the base to pull it over the rise of his cock. His undershorts barely contained him, the elastic stretching away from his abdomen.

“What I like best?” he echoed, his voice thick. He choked on a laugh as her hand encircled him through the silk. “Savi, you made me spend with a kiss. There's nothing you could do that wouldn't be the best I've ever had.”

She smiled with pleasure, leaned forward to drag her tongue along the waistband of his shorts, then slowly lowered it. Freed, his shaft jutted out. She squeezed her legs together to ease the insistent, pulsing ache beneath her womb—reminded herself to be patient.

“I'll remember to keep my shields down if they have that effect.”

“It's not the bloody shields.” His hands fisted in blue satin. “It's you. Oh, good
God
.”

She'd done nothing except lick her lips to moisten them, but she'd not considered how visually oriented he was. He lay back, propped up on his elbows. His eyes darkened further, as if just the sight of her gratification and her preparation to take him into her mouth was as effective as a touch.

Her heart pounding, she ran her nails up his length, swirled her thumb over the wide flaring head. How best to take advantage of it, to drive him mad with visual stimuli as well as physical sensation?

“Savi,” he said hoarsely, “you're thinking too much.”

“You'll like it.” She swept her tongue around the base of his shaft. Hot, hard. His hips jerked toward her, his grip tightened on the comforter. “I promise.”

“Yes, sweet.” He panted as her mouth surrounded the tip of him. “I'm certain I shall.”

He liked biting. He'd gone wild after she'd bitten him in Caelum; it might be too much now. But he'd also had a strong reaction when she'd touched herself, had wanted to see her do it…and, oh god, she needed some relief. His soft growls as she suckled him deeper, deeper, the lightly salty flavor, the taut flex of his abdomen as he forced himself to stay still were individual teases, combining to make her so moist and needy she could hardly believe she wasn't already riding him.

And
that
image, the anticipation of him inside her, sinking into her. She moaned around his length, shifting until she kneeled beside him in her boots and boyshorts.

She needed one hand to brace herself against the mattress, but her other was free and she slid it between her thighs, beneath her panties, burying her fingers in slick, soft flesh. Stroked in rhythm with her tongue, her mouth.

His growls abruptly stopped, and she darted a sidelong glance at him from beneath her lashes. His lips were pulled back, his fangs long and sharp against the line of his teeth. Desire and need burned hot in his gaze, his focus unwavering from her hand under the lace.

It seemed with effort, he unclenched his jaw. Met her eyes as she took him deep again, slowly, trying to gauge his response. The cords on his neck stood out. A groan rose from his throat. She suckled her way back to the tip, felt him shake. She raised her eyebrow in question when his hands lifted to her chin, pulled her gently up, forcing her to release him.

“Forgive me, Savi,” he rasped. “I'm soon to be selfish. The scent of you, the sound—in those knickers—I shall die if I don't have my mouth on you within half a minute.”

She stared at him, her fingers stopping in their motion between her thighs. “You have such an odd notion of
selfish
.”

He grinned, pivoted up to catch her beneath her arms, turn, and push her back against the pillows. He sat on his heels, his trouser-clad knees forcing hers wide. “Once I'd failed in my intention to fuck you senseless, I intended to allow you the lead. But you proved too proficient. I shouldn't have given you time to think.” Unzipping her boots, he tugged them off and threw them to the side of the bed. Hooked his fingers under lace and stripped her panties down her legs. “And I'll not allow you weapons such as these.”

She caught her tongue lightly between her teeth, and her hands rose to cup her breasts.

Colin glanced up, froze. “Bloody hell. There's no help for it then. Death comes.”

Before she could fathom his intention, he covered her body with his and lifted her leg over his hip, entering her in a long, powerful stroke. Her breath ripped from her lungs. Oh, god. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

“Savi, Savi,” he chanted between kisses to her face, her lips. His hands were buried in her hair. “Did I hurt you? Was it too hard?”

She shook her head, unable to speak. Not hurt, but she felt like sobbing with the pleasure of it. Her inner thigh slid over his hip as she wound her left leg across his back, lodging him farther inside. A wordless cry for more escaped her.

“Hold on, love. Oh,
Christ
,” he groaned as he slowly withdrew. She panted against his neck, her slick heat clinging along his length. Friction, though she was so wet she could hear it, too. “Hold on.”

Not
wait
, she realized, but
grab on to him and don't let go
. He pushed back in. So deep. So thick. A perfect fit. No chance of letting him go. She twined her arms around his neck, felt the trembling in his elbows planted next to her shoulders, in his palms cradling the back of her head. Fighting for control. Her ankles locked together at the base of his spine.

She clamped her teeth on his throat.

He tensed, a rough growl tearing from his chest before he reared back, pulling her up with him. For an instant, she straddled him as he knelt on the bed, her weight resting almost wholly over his cock, and she took him in, deeper, wider. Pain in that full stretch, just under her womb, just a little.

Just enough.

He slammed her back down into the pillows, shoving hard, but she was already coming, unclenching her teeth as she cried out against his skin. Again as he thrust, dragging out the orgasm with each long stroke, faster as she reached another peak. His mouth found hers, and she helplessly sucked and bit at his tongue, his lips, taking all of him she could get inside her, and still he filled her, over and over.

She let him go, too shattered to hold on, but he followed and linked his hands with hers. And pushed her over again.

“Colin?”

“I'm here,” he said, smiling against her throat. Savi sprawled bonelessly atop him, a leg on each side of his abdomen, her feet tucked beneath the outside of his thighs. He'd been counting the minutes; it hadn't taken as long as he'd thought it would.

“You didn't…?”

“No, love. You swooned.” He didn't try to conceal the triumphant amusement in his tone.

“No,” she said, her voice pensive. “I don't think I did. Evidence suggests I was fucked senseless. You are a gentleman, after all. Despite your intentions, you gave a lady what she wanted.”

He laughed softly. “At that moment, it was my only desire, as well.” He'd taste her soon enough. He ran his palms over her back, down to the swell of her small bottom, then swept back up. Smooth, naked skin, damp with perspiration.

Quickly cooling perspiration.

Bloody hell. Holding her against his chest, he rolled, kicked at the blankets. Found the edge and yanked it up over them. She sighed, wriggling in closer to his side. Her thigh draped over his, rubbed up and down against the wool of his trousers.

“Are you still in your pants?”

“Yes. And though I am pleased I exhibited unmatched sartorial excellence whilst fucking you senseless, they have since rumpled to a mortifying degree. Thus I resort to a cover-up.”

“Unbelievable. The only cover-up here is your cheap ass. I imagine heating this giant house must completely blow your budget.” Her dark eyes sparkled with humor, and she pressed her bottom lip between her teeth before offering, “I'll pay for half of it while I'm here.”

His chest tightened in desperate longing. Surely she must know a month wouldn't be enough. “All of it,” he countered, his fingers running the length of her spine, tracing lightly over the large starburst scar alongside it. “I hardly need the heat.”

“Your artwork runs the danger of mildew. Such a damp climate.” She mimicked her grandmother at the last; whether unconsciously done or not, it charmed another smile from him.

As if drawn by the movement of his lips, her gaze lowered to his mouth. Beneath the blankets, her hand skimmed over his stomach and wrapped around the base of his erection. His teeth clenched at the exquisiteness of it.

“I have a condition,” she said with a lift of her eyebrow, daring him to deny her.

“Heat in trade for lovemaking? I accept your terms,” he said quickly. “Though I daresay you enjoyed it well enough freezing.”

“It must be a secret desire of yours to have a woman whose skin is as cold as a vampire's.” Releasing his shaft, she slid her hand up the side of his ribs, drawing a sigh of pleasure from him. Her lips curved into a slow, sad smile; he'd only seen that expression when she'd spoken of Caelum. “And I would have someone transform me and fulfill that wish, but—”

“No.” The denial broke harshly from him, panic pushing it from his throat. “No, Savi. We could not even have a month if you did. You couldn't drink from me.” She'd have to go elsewhere. And she wouldn't be with him if the bloodlust forced her to be with another; she wouldn't spread herself between two men.

He'd likely murder the other vampire—or completely remove himself from her life to keep from doing it. The first would be preferable, but the continual deaths of her food sources was hardly a viable alternative for her.

“I know.” She blinked, then lowered her forehead to his chest. “And Michael told me that I probably couldn't, anyway. He doesn't know how the taint would manifest in me during the transformation. It would be too dangerous. The fever nearly killed me, and that was just ingesting a little bit of blood and venom; it's impossible to say what transformation would do.”

“You asked him? When?”

She turned her head, lay her cheek against his shoulder. She glanced up at him, then looked away, watched her fingers tracing a pattern over the hollow of his throat. “Just after the fever broke—about a week after.”

Before he'd returned from England. Before they'd made their agreement to try friendship. “Why?”

She seemed to contemplate the contrast of her skin against his for an extraordinary amount of time. “I want to see what happens,” she said finally, and though her eyes remained dry, tears hoarsened her voice. “When I think of all you've seen and experienced in two centuries—and Hugh and Lilith, what they've seen…” Her hands fisted. “And I expect that if the demon doesn't manage to kill us this month, the next fifty years are going to be pretty freaking amazing. People are coming up with stuff all the time, changing all the time. But I want more than that. I want a hundred, five hundred, a thousand. Ten thousand. Can you imagine? I just want to see it.” Her words slowly dropped to a whisper. “I would've eventually asked Lucas or Fia or someone to turn me…but then I took that flight.”

She shrugged carelessly, but yearning emanated from her psychic scent as clearly as her desire had earlier. Colin brushed his fingers through her satiny cap of hair, unable to speak. If he'd had the power, he'd have transformed her at that moment. He'd never considered it, except to think of how it would deny him any future with her, but he should have realized…someone with her extreme curiosity, with immortality all around her and the ability within reach—but then taken from her with an accidental swallow of blood and venom.

It would have been easier had she never known the possibility existed.

She forced a bright smile, flicked another glance up at him before her lashes lowered again. Her shields rose, as if to spare him from the pain of her need.

He should have been grateful; his pain was more than enough that he couldn't ease hers.

“And then I thought I could sacrifice myself saving someone's soul from a demon and turn into a Guardian, but Michael said no to that, too. Because of the taint. But that's okay, because I really don't want to be shot or stabbed or jump off a bridge or whatever it takes to sacrifice oneself. And I probably wouldn't have been a very good Guardian, anyway. In some ways, I'm too much like Hugh. I enjoy having free will. Though if I was a Guardian, we could…”

She didn't finish, but he could have if the tightness of his throat had allowed speech. As a Guardian, she could have fed him without having to feed from him. She would have been immortal and, even serving the Guardian corps, would have been able to make a life with him. As Selah and her vampire partner had together.

Swallowing, Savi began moving her fingertips across his chest, down over his stomach. “Anyway, your heating bill wasn't the condition I had in mind.”

“Anything you want, sweet, and it's yours,” he said, his voice rough. Anything but fidelity and immortality; devastating, that the two things she wanted most he could not offer. Yet it was more important than ever before not to give her false hope; he would not dangle anything in front of her only to take it away. But the first—there
must
be a way, even if he had to cut off his cock each night he fed from anyone other than Savi.

It would grow back. And after fifty or sixty years…he would live every single bloody day for her.

“You don't need more than a drop or two to come, right? You aren't going to feed from me tonight, just take enough for that.”

“Yes.”

“I don't want you to send me the…the…whatever you send them.” When he stiffened, she raised her head and explained, “I have a feeling that I won't be too coherent if you're doing that to me.”

Relaxing slightly, he tapped his forefinger against her mouth. “You won't be all that coherent, regardless.”

She pressed her lips together, then buried her face against his neck, began laughing. After a few moments, she wiped her eyes and said, “I want to see you come. I watched you in Polidori's.” She sighed sweetly in memory, her gaze on his lips. “It was beautiful. I want to be here for it.”

His heart ached with need, as if it wanted to leap from his chest and enfold her within it. She would kill him before the month was out. “The bite is painful, Savi. The pleasure takes that away.”

“It's not that bad.” She waggled her eyebrows, probably to divert him away from recollection of how she knew that. “And I like a little pain. We'll do the rest when you feed from me tomorrow.”

Her lashes fell, her smile widened, and a terrible certainty rose up in him. No, it hadn't been the bite in Caelum that had hurt her, but what had followed. She'd not have forgot it.

Was that why she postponed it? Curious, impetuous Savitri—stalling rather than discovering how good it could be.

He dreaded her answer, but he forced the question: “Are you frightened? Do you think it will be like Caelum?”

“Yes,” she admitted softly, and Colin was quite certain Hell had descended on him. “But not for the reason you think.”

He couldn't respond. What other reason could there be?

“It's because of Caelum, but not what you did to me. Just…Caelum itself. Or leaving it.” Savi paused, and turned, propping her chin on the roll of her fist. Her brows arched. “Have you seen the Taj Mahal?”

He blinked. “Yes.”

“I spent a week in Agra when I was in India last time. I was there on a perfect, incredible day.” Her gaze unfocused. “A cerulean sky, the stone blindingly white. And the symmetry of it, the design…anyway, I've always thought even if someone didn't typically like Mughal architecture, the dome, they'd have to agree that it's one of the most beautiful sites in the world. Maybe
the
most beautiful. When were you there?”

“Nineteen hundred and three. I toured the colonies after Emily and Ramsdell…after I left England, and before settling here.” He lightly pinched her bottom when her eyes widened. “Savitri, I'll tell you of my travels another time.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. After a moment, she said, “It wasn't the same. I've seen the Taj before—and when I saw it again, it wasn't the same. There was wonder, and awe, but nothing like before. All I could think when I stood there was that I'd had something better, a million times better, and had to let it go. That I'll never have it again. And it
hurt
. You must know.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes.” Evidence of it filled his studio; she'd see it soon enough.

“Maybe it's even worse for you; you had two months.”

“Perhaps it made it easier.”

She shrugged. “How does one quantify and compare that kind of loss? It's impossible. Not worth the attempt.” Absently, she traced a circle on his chest, drew a square over it. “The anxiety attacks have been worse since I came back—the need to run. And running from you was easy, but from that loss?”

“It's impossible.” His voice was rough.

“I try not to think of it, but…” She trailed off with a sigh. “And despite
knowing
how lucky I am that I went—and that I have this memory to take me back whenever I want—I wish it could fade, too. It's a blessing and a curse at once.” She met his gaze and cocked her head. “Does that sound whiny? ‘Woe is me, poor little rich girl'?”

“A bit,” he said, his lips quirking.

She wrinkled her nose, huffed out a breath. “Yeah. So, anyway, last night when I realized I couldn't ever forget what you'd do to me, it freaked me out. Because how will anything else compare to it? It can't; it won't.”

His relieved laughter disturbed her balance; she slipped from his side, sat up. “Oh, sweet—I'll not be sorry for that.”

She wrapped her arms around her bent knees, stretching the sheet into a tent over her legs. “Not men or sex. You ass. I'm talking about what I feel for you, and that I'll go into it knowing that I have to leave in a month. That it will be more to me than anything I've ever had; but unlike other women you've fed from, I'll never forget it. And that everything I feel in the future will be pale and insipid in comparison. It'll be like Caelum all over again.
That's
what I'm afraid of.”

It seemed a simple solution to him:
Don't leave
. But he couldn't ask her that, couldn't ask her for a commitment when he did not know if he could offer anything in return.

Yet she
had
made a commitment. Had made this month-long bargain after she'd realized the consequences of it. “You're afraid, but you're not running. Is your curiosity so strong?”

“Yeah. But also because it's too late; even without your superpowered orgasm, this is already more than anything else I've ever had. And I don't know if I'll have another chance like this again.”

“Then why wait until tomorrow?”

“Because I don't know how or why Caelum affected us like it did. And I won't know the reason behind your power, or how it works, or what it will do to me. Or if, even with this memory, it will seem like it isn't real.” She turned, lay against his chest. “But
this
, I'm certain of. And when I leave I'll know that I'm pining over something that genuinely existed between us, instead of…magic. I just want to wait one day, so that I can say for certain: it was just you and me.”