biting hard into my thighs as I wrapped them around his hips. He growled low in his chest, his teeth piercing the skin of my neck at the same time he thrust hard into my body.
I went into sensory overload, my mind reeling from our shared sensations. His need just fed my own, which in turn drove him harder until we both seemed to spin out of control, my body moving of its own accord against him, straining now not just for my own moment of completion, but for his as well. And when that moment arrived, it pushed me over the edge to the single most profound moment in my life. I exploded in a nova of joint rapture, my mind a whirl of sensation and thought and feelings. Out of the confusing mass came one stark thought that shook me to my very core.
There was no question of having a life without Kristoff. He held my heart just as surely as I held him in my arms. I loved him, with every inch of my being I loved him, and nothing would ever change that.
Without realizing it, I’d slowly shut him out of my mind, not wanting him to see the truth. It was too new a realization, too raw to examine closely.
As his tongue swept over the bite mark, I let my legs drop down, my muscles trembling with the strength of our shared orgasm.
I stared at him silently as he gazed at me, my feminine ego pleased by the somewhat dazed glint in his eyes, but another part wept tears of purest sorrow. I would spend the rest of my life loving a man who might feel a certain amount of affection for me-he was not the sort of man who could make love to a woman as he had without feeling some sort of affection-but I would never wholly hold his heart.
“ Dio, ” he said, but it was more a reverential statement than an oath.
I looked away. It hurt too much to look at his bright eyes.
His fingers turned my chin back to make me face him. “What is it?”
“What is what?” I held on to his shoulders, my legs still too shaky to support me.
With a little noise of annoyance he picked me up and carried me over to the bed. I stifled yet another moment of amazement that he could heft me without so much as a grunt.
“What is it you are hiding?”
His mind probed at mine, seeking to penetrate its depths. Just as he had done earlier, I locked away a secret little part of me, the part that acknowledged my love. Despite my desire to shout it from the balcony, to tell everyone I knew that I was madly, insanely, body-and-soul in love with him, I knew that would only bring more grief.
“Everyone has secrets,” I said, paraphrasing what he had said to me earlier.
You are my Beloved. You should not have secrets from me . He followed me down to the bed, his body leaning over mine as he continued to peer into my eyes.
“You and I both know that we’re not the ideal couple,” I said, pushing gently into his mind. Quickly he erected a guard over some part of himself. You see? There are parts of you that you don’t want to share.
You have not lived the life I have, he answered slowly. You have lived a blameless life. Your soul is not stained as mine is.
I stared at him in surprise, unable to keep from touching him. I rubbed my thumb over the tiny little frown lines between his sleek chocolaty brows until they eased. “What have you done to stain your soul?”
His head dipped down as he claimed me in another toe-curling kiss, his body draped over mine. His tongue was as sweet as ever, dancing around my mouth, letting me reciprocate for a few moments before taking charge again. Kristoff, I noted to myself, liked to be the aggressive one. I didn’t really mind that, although I expected that I would have to show him the joys of being on the receiving end .
The events of the past are just that-long gone. They do not matter now.
I thought, but didn’t share with him, that they must be important, or he wouldn’t feel so compelled to keep them secret.
What does matter is the fact that I’ve taken too much of your blood. You should have stopped me.
I laughed into his head even as a tiny part of my heart was breaking. “I don’t think anything could have stopped either one of us, short of a nuclear explosion, and frankly, I doubt if even that would have done it.”
“Nonetheless, you must rest,” he said, tucking me under the blankets. He flipped off the light and slid into bed next to me. “You must eat extra food in the morning. You will need to replenish the blood I’ve taken from you.”
“The last thing in the world I need is more food. You’re fussing for nothing-I feel fine. You’re the one who has to eat more. You’re still skin and bones.”
He said nothing, but rolled on his side, pulling me up against him and tossing a leg over me in a protective manner that left me melting like a big puddle of jelly.
I was embraced in a cocoon of warmth, one that smelled like a slightly tangy, sweet Kristoff and the lingering earthier scent of our recent activities.
I felt the change in him. He had accepted me in his life, acknowledged that we were bound together. I did not sense any resentment over that fact, just a recognition of what we both were, and his adjustment to the fact that he now had me to think of, as well as himself. I knew I should be grateful for that, happy that he would no longer be fighting the fact that we were together, but that little dark, hidden spot inside him ate away my pleasure.
That he hid the true depths of his feelings for his dead love said much for his consideration for me. That he held so tightly on to it boded ill for the future.
CHAPTER 7
“I’ve been thinking.”
A slight snore ruffled my hair.
“Kristoff.” I shoved his chest. He rolled over onto his back, giving a little grunt, followed immediately by another brief snore.
“Kristoff!” I clicked on the small bedside lamp, propping myself up on one elbow, and prodded him in the side until one of his eyes cracked open.
“Hruh?”
“You’re snoring.”
He blinked sleepily at me. “Wha’?”
“Vampires do not snore. Everyone knows that.” I laid my hand on his chest, a little frisson of happiness skittering inside me at the nearness of him. “Were you sleeping?”
He was fully awake now, and the muzzy look was gone, replaced by a slight frown. “What sort of question is that? You just said I was snoring.”
“It was a courtesy question, intended to give you time to wake up so you can speak coherently.”
His frown turned to a suspicious scowl. “You’re one of those women who likes to talk after sex, aren’t you?”
“All women like to talk after sex. It cements a feeling of intimacy and allows us to feel that our partners, frequently notorious for their ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ policy, are interested in more than just physical satisf-Hey! Stop going back to sleep; this is important!”
“Nothing is more important to a man after sex than getting eight or nine hours of uninterrupted sleep,” he said, closing his eyes.
“You’re a vampire,” I felt obligated to point out. “You’re not a normal man.”
“I’m male. The same principle applies,” he insisted, his eyes refusing to open.
“Oh, really.” I thought for a moment, then shoved back the blanket, taking his now-relaxed penis in my hands.
His eyes shot open.
“Aha!” I said, shoving aside one of his legs so I could kneel between them. “I knew it.”
Interest was chased by irritation in his lovely teal eyes. “Dammit, woman, I may be immortal, but there are limits to my abilities. I’m not an incubus who can satisfy your lustful desires all . . . Hrnng.”
I smiled at the way his eyes rolled back in his head as I bent down to take the very tip of him into my mouth.
