Ravenous

to take a thorough session of lovemaking to set things to rights. She knelt and picked up his sword, passing him the hilt. 'In that case, you look like you could use a good meal. You know, I have a rather nice place nearby. Shall I carry you off?'

She bent and retrieved The Book of Lies.

'I count on it.' He sheathed the blade with a suggestive slither. Then, with unexpected speed, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. 'But your love gives me strength. Tonight I am driving.'

Holly conjured a fire in the fireplace, using magic to create heat from the power of the Castle itself. Alessandro filled a kettle from the waterfall and hung it over the fire. There were tiny cakes of hard, herb-scented soap, and plenty of towels. As the damp air warmed, they stripped off their filthy clothes and used the marble basin to wash.

First Holly bathed Alessandro's wound. The gash had finally ceased to bleed and closed with a slight push of magical energy. Then it was her turn. The ghoul bites had healed with magic, but she still wanted their slobber off her flesh.

Alessandro pressed Holly to him, his soap-slicked muscles hard against the sensitive flesh of her breasts. Hot and hungry, his mouth found hers, the faint taste of soap strangely exotic as they kissed, man and woman, with no marks but the oldest bonds of nature between them.

Soap swirled away as they used the chill waterfall to rinse. Holly caught his lip with her teeth, tugging. A pleased growl rose in his chest, the vibration tickling her skin. She shivered, part cold, part anticipation, and made him give a low, intimate chuckle. The sound turned Holly liquid inside.

Alessandro dried her face with the softest of the white towels they found, working his way down her arms and back, saving the most erogenous parts for last. It was a possessive ritual, a little rough in his eagerness to claim each toe and elbow with strokes of the thickly woven cloth. Holly closed her eyes, feeling the towel like a tongue on her flesh.

He pushed her down on the old, worn velvet of the seat closest to the fire, her damp skin sticking to the soft fabric as they moved. Alessandro's hair hung down his chest in dark, damp curls, water making glistening rivulets over his skin. So help her, Holly began to salivate. He leaned over to press his lips to the tip of her shoulder. He was warm now, but she still felt gooseflesh rise on her skin, driven by the desire rearing like madness in her blood.

He ran his tongue up her sensitive inner arm, his teeth resting lightly at the crook of her elbow. As he moved to look at her, his eyes flashed the yellow of the hunter poised above his prey.

A new chill took the air from her throat. 'I thought I didn't tempt you that way anymore.'

He kissed the skin, his fangs just denting the soft flesh. 'I am what I am. I will never steal your will again, I do not need to consume your blood, but that does not mean I will never want to taste you. My venom cannot addict you now, but that doesn't mean it's not there for your pleasure.'

His mouth fastened onto hers, his tongue demanding new secrets. The faint taste of fennel brought a welter of erotic associations. Her hands ran down his lean flanks, feeling the muscles tighten, feeling the hardening of flesh.

He was recovering nicely.

Holly's power stirred, humming against his, another layer of pleasant arousal. Her skin was beginning to burn with wanting, as if it had suddenly grown too small.

They slipped between the sheets of the bed, the smell of old lavender wafting from the linens. Grateful for the warmth of the covers, she snuggled close, letting him cherish her curves and hollows with slow delectation. She was wet with need, aching and greedy.

'I have waited hundreds of years to hold a woman like this,' said Alessandro. 'To make love for its own sake, without the struggle to keep myself in check. To make love with only pleasure in mind.'

'Do you think you remember how?' she teased, feeling the press of him against her thigh.

'I am old, not senile,' he said acidly, but his smile was wanton.

Fingers wandered up her belly to play with the secrets of her navel, dipping in, exploring, toying with her. He traced the areola of her breast, the touch almost more suggestion than contact. Her nipple contracted, every nerve sparking with heavy fire. His lips fastened on the swollen nub, spreading the blaze of need through her belly.

OK yes, he knows it all, she thought as he moved his attention to her other breast. His mouth was busy, but so were his fingers, unfolding the petals of her sex and finding her slick and ready, but, damnably, he was in no rush. The pressure grew harder and more evocative, stroking against her swollen, eager folds. Holly reared against him, suddenly past words.

She reached for him, finding what she wanted. She ran her fingernails over his most sensitive places, letting the suggestion of pain salt his obvious pleasure. His ragged intake of breath told her all she needed to know. The sound made her nipples ache for the return of his clever mouth.

Trembling with the need for control, he finally grasped her hands, pinning them above her head. The old mattress swayed as he moved above her, poised for his conquest.

Her power, full and free, reached out and balanced his, strength for strength. His darkness would never overwhelm Holly's brightness; nor would she ever banish his night. No need for either of them to hold back now.

His hands released their iron grip, slowly, patiently sliding down her flesh, tracing the flare of her hips, cupping the mounds of her rich femininity. He kissed her right there, the suggestion of his lips and tongue making her part and arch in welcome.

He entered with a deep stroke, filling her, stretching her, holding still for a long moment before either of them could bear to move. Then, unable to wait another second, she thrust her hips again and again, finding the position, the rhythm, drawing him in inch after thick, delicious inch. Discomfort danced with sensuous hunger.

More. Harden

She undulated beneath him, near bliss. Pulsing in concert with their bodies, their power laced like the clasp of fingers. Holly loosed her hands, digging her fingers into his smooth flesh, fighting for better purchase, more leverage.

Hot, agonizing fullness rose as their bodies met, push after push. She gasped, driven toward the inevitable crest. Dazzled. Desperate to drive him deeper.

Just as she felt reason falling away, he stopped, holding her quiet with a grip of iron.

'No!' Holly protested. No, no, don't stop now!

He placed his mouth low on her belly and licked a long, slow stroke the length of her, ending at her throat, the faintest rasp of fang along her hypersensitive flesh.

'You're mine,' he said, and gave her a long, slow kiss. 'I Desire you, Holly. I love you.'

Then came the final, perfectly aimed thrust.

She imploded in a spasm of pleasure, blind and deaf. A torrent of sensation shredded her, every muscle and nerve torn asunder. He came, hot and full with the power of their union. It was magic of the most ancient, most powerful kind.

Later her memory was made up of fragments of torchlight, old herbs, the stillness of the Castle, and of Alessandro. He was laughing with pure joy.

'I suppose,' he said, toying with her hair, 'that we really should go.'

Holly lifted her head from where it rested on Alessandro's chest. Her limbs felt rubbery with satiation. He was right—they should be getting out of the Castle—but she wasn't sure she could walk. Lying in the warm bed, murmuring about everything and nothing between bouts of passion, was much more pleasant.

'In a minute,' she said, fondling the thin line of gold hair that crossed his belly, growing darker as it marched south toward magnificence.

Her heart expanded, full of amazement. His skin was warm, his cheeks flushed with lovemaking. He looked alive. Almost. Incredible but true, he was feeding on pure emotion. So this is what it means to be Chosen. As long as we love, he can live without taking from another.

There was no danger of running out of food. Holly could see a steady diet of mutual lust in their future, and that would be a long one. An immortal one. This kind of magic kept a witch young forever. That thought