Vermilion Kiss (9 page)

Darius said, “You may enter.”

I padded into the bathroom and it was hot, stuffy, but strangely enough, comforting. My hands shook as if I had low-blood pressure or something and Darius stepped beside me.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He tenderly pinched each side of my lace panties and slid them to my feet. He bent down, folded them like a napkin, and placed them in a wicker basket. I was kind of embarrassed that he had to do such a mundane task for me but my body quaked and trembled. I dipped a hand into the hot water, and it felt so soothing.

I lay down in the large tub and immediately some sort of aqua-jet system was triggered and relaxing pumps of high water pressure massaged by back, feet, and neck. I let out a long exhale, as if I’d been holding my breath for a very long time, and melted into the water.

Darius peeled off his robe and revealed the glistening pale muscles of his scrumptious six-pack and well-toned limbs. He wasn’t that muscular—just a tad bit—and was more lithe and slender than those huge buff guys you see spraying cologne on TV commercials.

His thick wavy mane floated to the surface of the water as he climbed into the tub and lay next to me, amber orbs like the inner glow of fresh honey. He let his fingers weave through my hair and pressed me close to him.

“Feeling better?” he queried as one of hands softly stroked my arm.

“Much better,” I replied and lifted my neck from the power-jet since it was starting to hurt somewhat.

“Do not expose that lovely throat to me, my dear.” Darius uttered. He licked a tickling line up my neck and curled his tongue around my ear. His teeth nibbled and sucked at the lobe playfully, pleasurably, and I moaned as he made a trail of fiery kisses down my neck and to my shoulder.

He stopped but my body craved more. So much more.

“Keep going.”

He stepped out of the tub, dried off with a towel, and slipped back into his robe. Then he scooped me up out of the water and carried me bridal-style to the bed, where he slowly set me down and crawled beside me.

“Why did you stop?” I asked with heavy disappointment.

He didn’t answer, just swiftly dried me with a very fluffy towel, and handed me a beige long-sleeve cotton nightgown and a lacy thong. I arched my back in order to fit the clothes on. First came the thong, which felt incredibly smooth and like wasn’t wearing anything at all, and then came the nightgown, which was a little too big; just the way I liked my fall/winter clothes.

“I cannot do anymore, my dear. You are still feeling ill and I don’t wish to hurt you.”

I glared at him angrily, took the back of his head within my hands, and pulled his mouth to mine, lips connecting, tasting, tongues intertwining together. He moaned at the sudden kiss and deepened it, explored more, letting his tongue swipe along the edges of my teeth. One of his hands slid beneath my clothing and squeezed my right breast. It filled his palm like a succulent ripened fruit.

I had to break this cage of sorrow that I’d locked myself in. I wasn’t going to be sad about the deaths of those people anymore. Fuck them. They were trying to kill
me
. All the cold and the pain floated away and all I wanted was to be devoured by an all-consuming pleasure. A fierce fire that could throw my body into the darkest flames of ecstasy.

I couldn’t stand the clothes anymore. I needed to feel him, needed to feel his skin touching mine. I wiggled out of the nightgown and then the thong and sighed as I was met by the softness of the blankets. A mischievous expression played upon Darius’ face as he draped his robe at the end of the bed and let his hands begin to wander my body. His touch was feathery as his fingers glided across me, caressed me, rubbed those tight, tight places.

I linked my hands behind his neck and stared into his blazing amber orbs with reverence and need and desire; this man was so powerful so influential, and so dangerous. He had taken everything away and given me the world. He had destroyed my life but given it purpose. I was enamored by him and captured in his web of love and luxury.

He lowered himself in between my legs and set them wide apart. His cool breath trickled onto my inner thighs, making me tremble with excitement.

“I want to hear you scream,” he uttered while anchoring my legs outward with his hands. His head dipped below my sight. I moaned loudly as his expert tongue flicked inside me, lapped quickly at the creamy juices. He darted back and forth, back and forth, inside and out, nibbling softly on me, making me arch my back in pleasure and yelp from the heated bliss. His fingers, one and then two and then three, plunged deep inside, making me squirm under the intoxicating movement that made me throw my head back and purr, “Mm, want more. Need more.”

He slid his fingers out and thrust them back in, over and over, driving me over the edge of pleasure. I gripped at the blankets as if I were trying to desperately stay on, stay on the plane of here and now, and not drift onto that higher elevation of joy and elation.

And then as his hands teased and brought my libido to its knees, a wild and immeasurable pain broke out inside my throat and I shrieked as it started to thrum erratically. Darius instantly ceased pleasing me and bent his head to the side.

“Lily,” his voice was stern, serious, “you must drink from me.”

My vision was swimming with floating red globs and tiny black particles, and my fangs sprung from their sheath as I roughly bit into Darius’ neck. The rich, coppery fluid spilled out wonderfully as I sucked and pulled at it, craving more and more, fulfilling the angry thirst that snarled like a starving wolf within.

A weakness grasped hold of my body and I slumped against him, fangs concealing themselves. He embraced me and swung the covers over us, fervently kissed my forehead and brushed his lips against mine.

“Are you all right, my dear? Did you have enough to satisfy the hunger?”

I was so tired, so, so tired and so, so very sick. Sick of this undying thirst and its control over me. Sick of always taking and never giving. “Drink some of my blood,” I told him.

“No,” was his sharp response.

I couldn’t think straight. Everything was whirling and flying around my mind as if caught in the eye of a hurricane. “Then tell me,” I said.

“I feel you should rest,” he suggested.

“No! I want you to tell me…I want you to tell me…how I was your wife in the past.”

He sighed and rubbed his chin. “Rosalie.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Her name was Rosalie.”

I crossed my arms and snapped, “And? Who is this
Rosalie
? Who was she to you?”

He shook his head, loose strands of hair brushing against his eyes. “I cannot say anymore. Now is not the time. I just cannot…I am not ready for such heartache.” He buried his face in his palms.

“Then when!” I hollered. “When will you tell me? I’m sick of you keeping this from me. One night you go and say, ‘Hey, Lily, didja know you were my wife a couple thousand years ago?’ and then leave me hanging like a wet towel! Now you’re doing the same exact bullshit. Coming up with excuses because that’s all you’re ever good at.” I pouted.

He placed a palm to his face. “It is just…not the right time to tell you. I promise I will tell you when the time comes.”

I waved my hands. “And when will that be, huh? It’s not like we have
forever
,” I joked.

He smiled faintly. “I am sorry.”

“Well, just tell me something! Anything! Just one more clue, please? So her name was Rosalie, whoop-dee-doo. Now tell me about this ‘Rosalie’.” I batted my eyelashes. “Please?”

He entwined my hand into his and spoke softly, “Rosalie…she…” his voice wavered. “She was my reason for living. She was my wife. I—I will tell you the entire series of events some other time. I promise.”

I squeezed his hand and I heard bone cracking. “And what does Rosalie have to do with me?”

Darius caressed my cheeks, wrapped a strand of my hair around his index finger, and let it untwirl. “Lily, my dear, you and Rosalie are one. You
are
Rosalie.”

“How? This doesn’t make sense.” I withdrew my hand from his like a snake and sank my head into a pillow.

Darius lay beside me and encircled his arms across my stomach. “I will tell you everything. Someday not far from now.” He kissed my neck and licked behind my ear in that super-sensitive part that sent shivers down my spine, making it arch in pleasure, and wrenching a moan from my lips.

“You’ve always taken pleasure from that one tiny spot.” He breathed into my ear.

I ignored him and caught sight of a ripped off newspaper page curled on the nightstand. I reached for it and snatched it close so I could see what was on it. Darius
never
even creased his newspaper, let alone tore out a page! I scanned the headlines and found circled in red ink a headline that read:
Barney’s Carnival—Coming to Town Tomorrow!
I took a puzzled glance at Darius and he grinned sheepishly.

“It was going to be a surprise for you and Sang but you know now, my dear. I am taking Sang to this carnival to raise his spirits. This…ordeal with Hira is rather stressful on him.”

I placed the article back on the nightstand. “So, what time should we get ready tomorrow?”

He hugged me tighter. “I will wake everyone. Do not worry.”

I closed my eyes, his gentle touch threatening to melt me like butter. “I love you,” I whispered.

His cool breath slithered down my neck, “I love you, too.”

* * * *

I woke up to the decadent, inviting aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs. After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I huddled inside my pink fuzzy robe and descended the stairs to the kitchen. Sang was whistling an unknown tune while wearing his favorite butterfly apron as he flipped some pancakes in a skillet skillfully. I carefully snuck behind him and touched his shoulders in which he screamed like a little boy.

“Lily, don’t ever do that again! I almost leapt through the ceiling!” he barked with a wide, joking grin.

I chuckled. “You were engrossed, I couldn’t resist!”

“You scared the shit outta me, Lil!”

“Sorry.”

He turned the stove off and set a mile-high plate of steaming pancakes onto the table along with a tray of bacon and another one with scrambled eggs. Darius was seated at the front of the table, paging through a newspaper while sipping a cup of coffee. He neatly set the paper down and examined Sang’s cooking.

“It smells wonderful, Sang,” he commented.

Sang’s cheeks flushed red. “Th-thank you Dari—er—Master.”

I took a seat beside Sang diagonal to Darius and began to fork some food onto my plate. Sang gave me the maple syrup and I poured a generous amount with a pinch of butter.

“So, what time do we leave?” I asked, after swallowing a pancake.

Darius linked his fingers together as in a deep thought. “After we eat breakfast, my dear.”

“Where we going? Where we going?” Sang asked like a puppy begging for treats.

I smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.” And winked.

Darius sliced his pancakes up into tiny slivers and popped one in his mouth. “You are such an extraordinary cook, Sang. You know that is one of the reasons I had to have to you. I can do anything but cook.” He chuckled to himself.

Sang’s cheeks flushed red.” Thank you so much, Master.”

“Call me Dari like you used to.”

“Dari.” The name spilled off Sang’s tongue like a waterfall.

When we were all finished eating, and after Sang and I battled over who got the last piece of bacon in which Darius had grabbed while we were bickering, I slipped my black knee-high boots on and grabbed my purse. I had decided to wear skinny jeans and
Korn
T-shirt with black spinel earrings and a matching pendent. I left my hair down, wild, and curly. When I stood up, Darius let a hand stroke freely through my locks and smiled before leaning in and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. After Sang struggled to get his sneakers on, he hugged me tightly and kissed me gently on the lips, which reminded me of pure, smooth silk.

Sang was in his usual attire of black skinny jeans, tall-top sneakers, and his favorite T-shirt that said
Bite me once, I bite you back
. He had tried to comb his messy ebony hair but it sprang back into tight waves. He also wore a pair of heavy sunglasses to conceal his vivid crimson eyes from the public. Darius wore his usual long sleeve dress shirt, a creamy shade of beige, with flared sleeves and ivory corduroy jeans with white knee-high laced boots. His long chocolate hair was bound back into a ponytail that swept across his back gorgeously.

Both had pale complexions and I was no exception. I’d excused myself and hurried to my room to put something else on. I tried my best to apply toner and make-up as best I could but I still looked like a ghost. I’d decided on a knee-length hot-pink skirt with a matching satin top with a cute little bow at the collar and white leggings. For shoes, I kicked the boots off and slipped into my favorite magenta Maryjane’s and let my hair fall freely beyond my shoulder to my back.

When I stepped from my bedroom, Sang whistled in approval and Darius just smirked with a mischievous gleam his honey amber eyes.

I hated it when he did that. It meant he was hiding something from me.

I asked, “Darius, who will be taking care of the house?”

“Lawrence as always.” He responded curtly.

Sang bounced around excitedly. “Where are we going? Huh? Is it someplace nice?”

Darius threw his head back and laughed. “You will love it, Sang.”

Sang pouted. “You could at least tell me.”

“Just wait a little longer,” I told him with a smile.

“Okay,” he mumbled.

We all stood up and made our way outside to the limo. Lawrence was driving and I felt a sense of relief wash over me at the thought. I entered first, then Darius, and then Sang. As the engine revved, Darius encircled both arms around us and rested his head on the back of the scarlet leather seat.

Darius spoke first. “Sang, how would you like your own bakery?”

The other vampire’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. “I—I would lo—love it,” he stammered.