The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) (21 page)

He slipped a tantalising finger under the elastic at the top of the lace, lightly stroking the treasure that lay hidden below, and Hope reached for his hand. “No, Xavier. Not yet. Please?” Her words were broken, her body alive with the need that was driving her insane.

He pulled his hand back, and reached for his shirt. She watched as he slipped one button, then another from the holes. Her heart rate increased, as inch by beautiful inch his chest was revealed to her. How she wanted to run her hands over the hot planes.

Hope tugged her top over her head, as Xavier grasped the waistband of the skirt she had worn. He pulled down, careful to avoid knocking the cast and quickly stood. He flicked at the fastener at his pants, a ripping sound, as the zipper opened to reveal the sexy green boxers below before they slipped to the ground. Then he stepped out of them. She itched to grab the band and yank it off him. “Come here, Xavier, and let me help you out.” She sat up slightly, crooking one finger. He smiled. Her body and breasts were tight with a burning need. She was almost naked, only covered by a scrap of lace, which hid nothing from his heated gaze. She watched as he looked her over. Up and down, and she shivered once more, as the sensual tension settled within her.

“I hoped you would.” He flowed towards her, the satin tenting over the erection she knew lay beneath the surface of the cloth. Xavier reached the side of the bed, and she slipped questing fingers under the band, feeling the hot throbbing flesh against her skin. He sucked in a breath, and stood still. He became rigid beneath her ministrations. She smiled before carefully peeling the boxers from his body. She grazed him softly, as she looked upon the body she uncovered, starting with the strong powerful thighs, trim stomach and thatch of hair around his erect shaft.

A quick smile in his direction, before letting her gaze wander once more down his body. The satin boxers lay pooled at his feet, sitting over the black shoes and socks that he still wore.

Xavier turned and slowly sat down upon the bed, next to her. Pushed the boxers off with a move of his feet then followed quickly with toeing the shoes off. She stared at his feet, encased in black socks. “Oh my, Xavier. Socks on in bed?”

He growled, and she giggled at the sexy response. A strong, handsome man in bed with her, and she laughed again at the silly thought.

“Well, you’re still over dressed, though I do like those panties. Maybe we should get you some more of them.” His voice deepened, as he leaned over to lightly kiss her, letting the touch linger.

Xavier tugged the light material at her waist, pulling it from her body. She went white hot, his careful caresses along her sensitised body leaving licking flames scorching her skin as they moved.

Once more, his lips touched hers. She closed her eyes, allowing the pleasure of him, naked and close, to flash through her system. She arched towards him as he grasped the swell of her breast.

Xavier had moved, letting his mouth wander slightly from her lips to her jaw, and Hope could feel his hot breath caressing her skin. Each new touch sparked a fire deep inside her.

A quick wriggle and she moved so he could settle himself against her nearly naked flesh. Hope gasped at the sensation of him touching her.

The feel of him was electric, and she bucked slightly, feeling his engorged head rest at the juncture of her thighs.

“Hope, you feel so good. But, now I want to feel your breasts, hold them in my hands while I watch your beautiful pink nipples tighten while you wait for me. I want to suck them into my mouth.” His words excited her further, while the sensations of him running his fingers over her firm flesh set off fireworks on her skin.

He leant forward, but instead of kissing her nipples, he grazed his chest across the sensitive skin then leaned into her and kissed her with heat and desperation. She felt him tremble with desire, and she ran her inquisitive hands up and down the skin of his back.

She grabbed him close and held him tightly to her, seeking an intimate connection, then he shifted and pulled up. She could see he breathed heavily, telling her wordlessly that he was as hot as she was, and she moved upright, following him as best she could.

His shaft jerked when she touched the tip with her finger, running it down the long, hard length of him, while he settled back on his knees, one hand around her bare ankle, slipping the leg farther apart and baring her for his gaze.

Looking at her, his face was a graven mask and in his eyes glittered a need she wanted to fill. He reached out a shaking hand towards her, running a finger up her core. Each pass burnt her, each touch deeper. Then he placed his tongue to her skin, lapping at her. She writhed beneath his ministrations, bucking wildly, until Xavier placed a hand on her belly.

“Not yet.” The tip of his tongue found the sensitive nub and flicked, and she shuddered with the sensations as he slipped one finger within her wet opening, the sensations leaving her gasping. He continued the motion, in and out, and the feeling nearly pushed her over the edge, while she gripped the sheets beneath her.

“Xavier… Oh, God… Xavier…” She gasped, and burnt beneath him, but he continued onward.

The liquid heat pooled inside her. He stopped sucking to look up. “Do you want more?”

“Please, Xavier. I just want you.” The words were incoherent and he gave one last lick, removing his finger and watching her, then he placed it in his mouth. Letting his lips settle around it, he sucked. The carnal act stole her breath.

Once more, he teased her slick and wet core, slipping within to pump gently, while he positioned himself, and only then did he move his hand away. Then he slid, slowly, within her body.

She sighed at the feel of him embedded fully within her. He moved, and she met his thrust carefully.

Xavier reached over her, grasping a pillow from the other side of the bed. He slid out of her and she mewled at the loss of his weight, his touch, but he looked up, his eyes glittering with need. Then he positioned his hand under her, pulling the pillow under the cast, and swiftly returned to her. Once more, he filled her to the hilt.

She wound her good leg around his hips, levering into him, and pulling him as close as possible.

“Don’t want to put any pressure on your break.” His words whispered against her mouth, then their mouths met. She met his thrusting tongue with her own, and let it dance against his. She could taste the muskiness in that sweet wet cavern of his—her taste.

He pumped her slowly while he worked her nipples into tight buds, as she let her hands roam his body.

“Oh, Xavier, more. Please!” She moaned. He shoved harder and faster within her. She writhed beneath him, feeling the increase of pressure building, low and deep in her belly.

He pushed her on, as she felt her body tightening. Glorying in the feel and weight of him above her, and how he moved within her quickly, she orgasmed. A keening sound erupted from her throat.

The rhythmic spasms of muscles clenching and releasing flashed through her body like quicksilver. He flexed one more time, and she felt him stiffen, gripping tightly to her hips. The feeling of his pulsing release, deep within her, filled her with satisfaction.

Their bodies stilled, locked together. She opened her eyes to see his dark hair pillowed on her breast, where he had slumped against her.

Breathing slowed, as did beating hearts.

She closed her eyes. Dear God. There was no way she could give this up. Not the sex, but the sense of connection she felt with him. Of rightness. But he was the Master vampire, and she was what? His girlfriend? His lover? She loved him. A trickle of tears seeped out of the corner of her eye, as the truth occurred to her.

She. Loved. Him.

Oh, Lord. Please don’t let that be right. Please no!
Don’t let her have made that mistake. But even as the thought flashed through her, she knew. She had tumbled into love with a Master vampire.

Her.

The one the bad guys wanted.

The one her parents didn’t want.

“Hope? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He lifted his head, touching his hand to the trails of tears on her face. “What? Do I need to call the doctor?” He was half rising, as she grabbed his hand.

“No. Nothing is wrong. I’m just being silly is all.” She swiped at the tears, sniffing inelegantly. “I just have never made love with someone like that before. I want to thank you for that.”

Inside, though, she screamed out her frustration.
I want to tell you I love you, but can’t.
It wasn’t a fair burden to share, and she knew he had taken on the responsibility of keeping her safe. So instead she leant forward, touching soft lips to his. “Thank you.” Keeping control of her emotions, though, left her stiff, and she saw the questions in his eyes.

But knowing you are a fraud offers no peace
. Her honest assessment of her actions left her feeling cold and lost.

They settled down, with Hope caught up in Xavier’s strong arms. She listened to the sound of his breathing, evening out as she lay still, looking at the wall, hoping for the welcome oblivion of sleep.

* * * *

The dream came again, this time darker and more intense than before. The thick fog lifted as they appeared in front of her, the atmosphere both chilling and foreboding. She shivered. Everything seemed muted and tinged in grey, like old photos. Men dressed in black trench coats stepped out of the fog, but she couldn’t make out their features. On an instinctive level, she knew smiles adorned their bloodied faces, but she couldn’t see them clearly. The drips of blood trickling down their chins chilled her to the bone. The building behind them, a hulking mass, continued smoking, as remains littered the ground. Bodies. Blood. Everywhere.

The copper tang filled the air, souring her stomach. The scent of blood was making her feel ill.

She could see them once more. Xavier, with his blood seeping into the sidewalk, his eyes blank. Javed, a few feet away, lying still on the ground, his eyes dull in death. She rushed forward, but strong arms caught at her. One of the black trench-coated men. No! She screamed, her heart breaking, as she surveyed the surroundings, her heart splintering. The carnage before her, the scenes of the dead and dying and the sounds of anguished moaning overwhelming her. The blond man stepped forward. The one she knew was Estersham.

“It is time.” He moved closer, and she knew she was about to feel the sting and tear of his teeth…

“Hope? Wake up. Come on. It’s just a dream.”

 
She thrashed as the remnants of the dream filled her with sickness. The tang of bile present in her mouth and on her tongue, while her throat burned.

She was clammy and cold, even as Xavier held her close, hauling the covers around her.

“It was the same dream, but different. I don’t know why, but it was.” She shivered uncontrollably while she thought of Xavier, lying dead on the concrete. “He shot you. Outside that building. There was smoke and bodies, and I am sure I know that building… I don’t know why!” She wailed the last words, hands raised in supplication.

Gently he rubbed up and down her back. She hiccupped, and gratefully accepted the warmth of his body touching hers. His kissed the back of her neck, reassuring and warm.

She slumped back against him, and the nightmare receded. “It’s trying to tell me something, and I don’t know what. I don’t dream like this a lot anymore…and it was never like this.”

She shuddered as her mind cleared. “I did up to the point when the nest was breached. But not much since then. Now they’re back and I can’t interpret them. The only thing I know is they can’t have you.” She gripped his hand, brought it up to her mouth and kissed it softly.

They stayed together while the day wore on. Eventually they dozed off, still wound around each other.

Chapter Eight

Xavier watched as Hope picked at her breakfast. She was pale, her eyes tired, and dark circles ringed her eyes. She hadn’t slept properly since the last nightmare, spoke little and seemed lost, her movements listless and painful for him to watch. He wanted to do something for her, but just didn’t know what and the frustration rose once more.

Yet, even for that, she turned to him in the night, soundlessly seeking his embrace. The longer she suffered, the more difficult it became for him to watch. He breathed deeply, letting his lungs expand in preparation for the discussion he was about to open. This could be his last chance, and it frightened him as much as the knowledge that her dreams were tearing her apart.

“Are you going to eat that, or just play with it?” He used a languid hand to point to the meal, while his efforts to continue to act unconcerned tore at him. Watching her push and play with her food had become a daily occurrence. He wanted to jump up and pull her into his arms, but he held himself in place. This had to be done.

She jumped at the blunt words. If it was possible, she paled further.

“I’m really not hungry.”

He felt as much irritation as worry. She pushed the plate away. “Actually, I think I have some work to complete…” She started to rise from the table, manoeuvring the crutches into place.

“Stop. Hope, we need to talk, you and I. Need to work out where this situation is going and what needs to be done.” He’d been thinking it over, balancing the issues inside his head.