Arielle wrinkled up her brow. “What do you mean?”
Kagen shrugged his shoulders, and a crystal stream of water sloshed off his muscular back, creating extra ripples in the tub. “My father has taken it upon himself to see to our safety, one way or another. He is more than aware of the potential hazards that exist in Dark Moon Vale, and he has made adjustments for the possibility that the lycans may react poorly to our invasion of their land.”
Arielle’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Do you think they will? Attack, I mean. The lycans?”
Kagen shook his head. “No. Not tonight. Not even tomorrow or the day after. I think they will be licking their wounds for some time to come. I think they are going to have to regroup, reconstitute their government, and live to fight another day.”
Arielle sighed in relief. “I think so, too.” She settled back into the soothing springs. “And what about Keitaro? Do you think he’s upset that I haven’t come to see him yet? We should really get back to the clinic soon.”
Kagen laughed out loud, although Arielle had no idea why. He shook his head with conviction; his eyes lit up with some inner knowing; and then he smiled, that damnable mischievous grin that made him look like a devious child. “I think my father appreciates our situation…intimately. And I think he is far more eager to see us connect as a couple than visit him in his room.” He waved his hand in a casual gesture. “Don’t get me wrong, he is dying to see you, but I think he would like to see us both, together, as one.”
Arielle gulped.
It wasn’t intentional.
It was just that Kagen always had this way of making her feel like a mouse caught in a trap, wedged between the paws of a cat, even when he wasn’t trying. “So, what’s next?”
Kagen sat up straight and leaned in closer.
She cleared her throat. “I mean, in terms of the Curse.”
He smiled again, like a wayward wolf: Damn him.
“I mean”—she wrung her shriveled hands together—“I mean, in terms of the Blood Moon. You know…like…should we talk more about the conversion?”
Kagen shook his head slowly…far too slowly. “No.” He practically purred the word. He moved softly through the water until his body was facing hers, framing hers, his powerful arms enclosing her in a rock-hard cage, his fingers splayed flat against the rocks on either side of her head.
“Oh.” She glanced around the mountain, her eyes darting to the left, then the right, anywhere but on Kagen’s piercing pupils. “So then, I should probably know more about the sacrifice. I mean, the Curse…the pregnancy…what to expect.” She winced, realizing she was acting like a terrified child.
“Shh, sweeting,” he whispered. He leaned into her until his lips hovered barely inches away from hers. “There is always time for talk…later.”
Her eyes shot open and her spine stiffened, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He reached out to twirl a lock of her hair and studied it with undue interest. “You, Arielle Nightsong, are beautiful beyond description.” He wound it between his thumb and his forefinger and exhaled slowly. “I have never seen hair quite this shade, even wet. It’s not brown or red, but the color of polished copper, and the highlights, when it’s dry…” He bent over to brush the tendrils against her cheek. “They’re as fiery as you are.”
Arielle tried to relax…and failed.
She dipped down in the water in a misguided attempt to gain some personal space and ended up plunging beneath the surface.
He let go of her hair, seized her by the shoulders, and swiftly pulled her back up, looking utterly amused. “You cannot breathe under water, sweeting,” he chided playfully. “Not even once you’re Vampyr.” He slid his hands down the contours of her arms to her waist, along the curve of her waist to her thighs, and then along her thighs to her knees. He cupped her knees in his large, powerful hands, and with one short thrust, he shoved her back in her seat, forcing her body upright so that her head was safely above the water. The corners of his mouth turned up in a devilish grin. “If you prefer to be submerged…or overwhelmed…if you wish to be out of breath, I can think of a far more pleasant way to go about it.” He bent to her mouth and brushed his bottom lip against hers.
That was it.
Just his bottom lip…in a slow, erotic slide.
It hadn’t been a kiss.
It hadn’t been a bite.
Just a mere brush of his mouth against hers.
Arielle coughed spasmodically, expelling a mouthful of water she didn’t remember taking in. “Sorry,” she groaned, feeling like a bumbling idiot.
It wasn’t so much that the contact had overwhelmed her—it was the stolen glance at his rock-hard shoulders as he’d made his approach. For the sake of all that was holy, his chest was like a medieval shield, forged in iron yet wrapped in silk, and the muscles in his stomach cleaved to his bones like someone had carved them from clay. His thighs were like cords of steel: taut, lean, and bulging with strength.
And that was to say nothing of his eyes…
They were like endless pools of moonlight, reflecting silver in their dark, haunting depths, and he used them like weapons of seduction: taunting, hypnotizing, beguiling his…prey.
Arielle shot up straight and gasped. “Kagen,” she cried in alarm, trying to get control of her emotions. “I don’t think I’m ready for all of this.”
He studied her like a jeweler appraising a rare, priceless gem; his face was an unreadable mask. “I don’t think anyone is ever ready for all of this, Arielle. Not even those of us who spend a lifetime preparing for it.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands and caressed her jaw with his thumbs. “We just take it one moment…” He traced the contours of her lips with the pad of his forefinger. “One touch…” He released his fangs and bent to her throat, stopping just shy of pressing the ivory tips to her skin. “One taste…at a time.”
She exhaled slowly and held her breath.
He purred in her ear like a primitive cat, and then slowly, expertly, sank his fangs into her throat.
She jolted and grasped at his shoulders, and then she felt an unbearable heat—an undeniable pleasure like nothing she had ever known—seep into her veins.
Was he drinking her blood or enthralling her with venom?
Was he making love to her mind or possessing her soul?
She tried to remember, to flash back to that first night in Mhier in the cave, the night he had sent her spiraling into the cosmos, writhing in his arms in ecstasy, drowning beneath his perilous claim, but she just couldn’t latch on to the memory. Not fully. She was too overwhelmed, so incredibly confused, so undeniably, uncomfortably aroused.
And it was all the invitation he needed.
Kagen withdrew his fangs, sealed the wound—if there was one—and gazed hungrily into her eyes, his breath coming in harsh, shallow pants. “I want you, sweeting,” he whispered, his eyes growing molten with need. “Like I’ve never wanted anyone, or anything, before. I don’t just want to taste you—I want to feel you. I want to bury my body inside of yours until it’s no longer clear where you begin and I end.” He groaned. “Great gods in heaven, Arielle; I want to devour your soul.”
She blinked several times, trying to process his words, trying to gather her courage, and then she opened her mouth and revealed her longing, as her heart gave way to his thrall: “Yes, Kagen. Yes.”
He shuddered before her. His chest visibly shook for a moment, and then his mouth descended upon hers and his kiss was like a wild desert wind, sweeping her up in unfettered passion, blowing away all previous resistance, whisking her away in a gust of desire.
His tongue swept over hers and he growled like an animal.
His hands clung, caressed, and cajoled with maddening expertise.
And his hips rocked forward, revealing his straining manhood for the very first time: He was hard, thick, and ready, iron wrapped in silk.
His left hand found a purchase in the thick of her hair, and he broke the kiss long enou
gh to breathe her name before he bent once again to her neck. Only this time, he placed soft, gentle kisses along the slope of her ear; took harsh, teasing bites along the length of her throat; and swirled mind-numbing circles with the tip of his tongue, directly above her carotid artery.
And then he slid his hands over her shoulders, removed the straps of her suit, and lowered his mouth to her breasts.
Arielle trembled at the glorious sensation of moisture and heat as he teased her nipples, each one in turn, his tongue performing an intricate dance with her flesh.
She fisted her hands in his hair as he sealed his lips around a taut areola and drew her sensitive peak deep into the warmth of his mouth. He suckled like a man possessed; he nipped like a playful pup; he tormented her like a languorous lover who had nothing but time on his hands. And all the while, she trembled and groaned and writhed beneath him.
When at last he encircled her waist, drew her to his chest, and laid her gently back along the smooth, natural bench, she felt the first real pangs of fear. His shaft jerked against her belly, and she stiffened. “Kagen,” she whimpered, her voice betraying her angst.
He raised his head and smiled warmly, his eyes piercing deeply into hers. “Do not think, my love…only trust…only feel.” He slid his hand down her back to her hips and kneaded her flesh with his palms, watching attentively as she slowly began to relax…again.
He splayed his fingers over her stomach and simply held his hand there, resting in place, as he kissed her with feeling—slowly, tenderly, passionately—placing all the love he felt into the kiss. Finally, when she returned his passion, ardor for ardor, need for need, he slid his hand lower and began to tease her heat with his thumb.
She squirmed in response, and he added more pressure, kissing her deeper still.
She moaned, and her hips began to rock beneath his, as if on their own accord. The vampire responded with practiced skill, applying all the right pressure in all the right places, as if he knew her body better than she did—and truth be told, he probably did—because the more he stroked her, the more she ached. The more magic his fingers weaved between her sensitive thighs, the more she began to feel faint, dizzy, and light-headed, as if she were spinning inwardly, out of control.
Finally, when the pleasure began to approach pain, when the want in her belly grew to an unappeasable need, she arched her back, straddled his hips with her thighs, and moaned.
She didn’t know when or how he did it, but he somehow removed the rest of her clothes…
And his.
Their suits fell away, floating off into the swirling pool, and the deliciously warm water picked up where his hands had left off. He drew back and glanced at her, admiring her naked form beneath him like a tray of exquisite delicacies laid out at an annual feast, and his ragged breath hitched in his throat. “Oh…sweeting…” His voice was guttural and raw. “My love.” There was nothing—and everything—in those simple words of endearment: a request, a command…a plea. And all of it spoke intimately to the most feminine place in her soul.
Then just like that, he shifted his weight onto his powerful arms, lowered his hips to hers, and placed the tip of his manhood against her veil, pushing ever so gently into the threshold of her core.
“Kagen!” she gasped. She felt like she was falling.
“It’s okay, sweeting,” he murmured. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I feel…I feel…I feel like I’m falling.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. “It’s okay, baby. That’s what you’re supposed to feel. I need you to trust me, Arielle. I need you to just…let go and follow my lead.”
She tried. She really did. With everything she had inside her, Arielle tried to relax and let go, just like Kagen had instructed. But she couldn’t help but think about the massive erection straining against her core. She couldn’t help but calculate the length and the width of that flesh-and-blood spear in her mind, and the moment she did, she was assailed by terrifying images of…impalement.
Kagen Silivasi wanted to put what…
Where?
Everything inside her said no.
That was not going in.
No way. No how.
It simply wouldn’t fit.
In fact, it seemed like a biological impossibility, and ancestors help her, as much as she wanted him, the thought made her queasy: She would never be able to please this male—or to take pleasure from him—her body was simply ten sizes too small. She gritted her teeth, winced, and held her breath, turning her head to the side. “Go ahead.”
“Arielle…” Kagen’s voice was practically dripping with honey…and mild alarm.
She blinked up at him, feeling utterly foolish and hopelessly desperate, feeling like she just might pass out.
“Oh, baby, just breathe for me. Relax. I am not going to take you like this.”
She thought about the Curse, the conversion, the necessity of a pregnancy—at least, before the end of the Blood Moon—and she nodded blankly as she forced her next words: “It’s okay, healer. It really is. I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Go ahead.”
Kagen laughed, almost unconsciously, although there was no real humor in the sound, no mockery or disrespect. He raised his hips, rotated his pelvis to the side, and gently settled the massive erection against her hips, instead. “Look at me, Arielle,” he entreated. His eyes were virtual pools of compassion.
She opened her left lid and slowly peeked up at him through her peripheral vision, allowing him the corner of one eye. “W…w…why?”
He smiled endearingly and murmured: “Because I’m going to help you through this, and for that, I need you to look into my eyes.”
Kagen kept his voice steady and his expression calm, even though his body was about to explode.
Arielle was as tight as a drum, as frightened as a mouse, and it didn’t help at all that they were immersed in a pool of water. He knew that he could spend the night, a week—hell, a month if he had the time—on foreplay and her arousal, yet none of it would be enough. The demons she had inside were internal, not physical. They were based on a lifetime of knowing only fear and brutality; terror and angst; self-reliance and independence. She simply did not know how to give her well-being over to another person, let alone how to submit her body to a man.
He sighed in contemplation: He had promised her he would never use coercion—and he wouldn’t—but that did not preclude making full use of his powers in order to see to her comfort, in order to tend to her soul.
He said a silent prayer, asking for guidance, self-assurance, and wisdom. It would take all of that and more to bring the two of them together. In fact, at this point, he was even willing to rely on a little plagiarism if it helped, maybe a well-placed verse from a song or a famous poem, something that he couldn’t mess up.
“Look at me, Arielle,” he said. He hoped his eyes were brimming with compassion.
“W…w…why?” she said, reluctantly.
He smiled and murmured, “Because I’m going to help you through this, and for that, I need you to look into my eyes.”
With that said he began to sift through his memory, searching for the perfect poem or song, scanning for just the right stanza or melody with soulful words or a soothing pitch; until, at last, he retrieved an old Bob Dylan tune from his subconscious and began to hum the refrain…
Both of Arielle’s eyes blinked open—and wasn’t that a vast improvement in and of itself?—and then they slowly alighted with curiosity as the melody began to drift to her ears. Kagen added a deep, haunting resonance to his voice, cocooned her body in the vibration of the song, and began to sing warmth into her soul, using his tone to gently caress her skin: “When the rain is blowing in your face; and the whole world is on your case; I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love…”
He began to trail his fingers along her stomach in slow, hypnotic strokes, first the pads and then the backs, each touch, each caress, each note infus
ing more warmth and comfort. “When evening shadows and the stars appear; and there is no one there to dry your tears; I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love…”
Her breath hitched and her stomach quivered, even as her eyes grew molten with desire. When her tongue snaked out to wet her bottom lip, it took all the self-possession he had not to bend over and taste the offering, but he managed to maintain control. Trailing his fingers along the ridge of her pelvis, he twirled a gentle circle just above the apex of her soft curls and pressed on. “I know you haven’t made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I’ve known it from the moment we first met; no doubt in my mind where you belong…”
His hand dropped lower and his pressure grew more insistent as his fingers began to arouse her peak. Still, he held her gaze with his, sending wave after wave of unconscious reassurance into her spirit, funneling her fears into fantasies, weaving her dreams into desires. “I’d go hungry; I’d go black and blue; I’d go crawling down the avenue. There is nothing that I would not do…to make you feel my love.”
She reached up to cup his face in her hands, and then she strained to kiss his lips. As tears of joy—and blissful release—began to roll down her cheeks, he devoured her mouth with his. When, at last, she pulled away and tilted her head ever-so-slightly forward, as if straining to hear more words, he deepened the thrall of the song and obliged her, singing directly into her ear. “The storms are raging on a rolling sea; down the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free; you ain’t seen nothin’ like me yet…”
She slid beneath him, almost unconsciously, her beautiful thighs wrapping around his waist in escalating need, and he shuddered, then rotated his hips to the side so their bodies were perfectly aligned.
“There is nothing that I wouldn’t do; go to the ends of the earth for you. Make you happy, make your dreams come true…to make you feel my love.”
He slid his body into hers and groaned with deep contentment. “To make you feel my love.”