Claimed by the Immortal

Again her mouth opened and closed. While this was nowhere near as bad as he’d anticipated, he expected more. This wasn’t her culture’s way of looking at sex. In fact, there was hardly a group on the planet more prudish than her culture, although there were probably some. The Brits, he thought with a flicker of humor. All that Calvinism and Puritanism had found a great home here.

“Sex,” he said when she offered nothing more, “is a joyous celebration of life. Properly practiced, it’s purely good.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m a police officer. I’ve seen it used in a very different way too often.”

“I’m sure you have. There are always abusers of gifts. People who use them as weapons. Like the bokor we seek.”

She sighed. “Point taken. So what do you expect me to do? Get naked with you on the floor?”

He bridled a moment, then reminded himself this concept was utterly alien to her. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you, but to explain a ritual. The occasion requires considerably more ceremony and thought than that. It requires a certain amount of devotion.”

“Devotion sounds good,” she admitted. “Let me think about it.”

He could only wonder at her thoughts because she didn’t share them. Not that he had expected instant capitulation. While he could see, smell and nearly taste her desire for him, she probably wanted something a little more romantic, or a little more spontaneous.

He suspected the whole of idea of making love as a ritual was what was setting her back on her heels. It did sound a bit clinical if you weren’t used to the idea.

Her gaze tracked back to him and it was now suspicious. “Did you just make this up?”

“Absolutely not.”

She shook her head a little. “I don’t know about this. It sounds so cold.”

“It’s anything but.” Yet he could understand her feelings. Most women preferred to be wooed.

“What exactly would be involved?”

“I’d make love to you and try to bring us both to the highest pitch of completion possible.”

He saw her eyes darken, smelled the scents of her desire. His own arose in response, and he knew he was halfway there.

“What else?” she asked.

Now came the part he was sure was going to upset her. But there was no way around it.

“I’m a vampire,” he reminded her. “My predatory instincts must not be wakened.”

“So...I’d have to hold still?” She looked as if that didn’t exactly please her.

“More than that,” he admitted frankly. “I’d have to tie you up.”

Chapter 10

Tie her up? The words caused a windstorm of reactions in her, ranging from anger at the mere thought of being constrained to an amazingly powerful shiver of longing.

She closed her eyes, knowing she couldn’t conceal her scents from Damien but hoping she could keep her eyes and expressions from giving away more.

“I could tie you up,” she pointed out tensely.

“You could. But there are two problems.”

“And those are?”

“You don’t know the ritual, and if I become predatory, there are few bonds that could hold me.”

“Lovely.” Sarcasm dripped from the word.

But she wondered what her real resistance was. She couldn’t deny the way her body had clenched at the thought of being tied up and loved by him. Never had she suspected she might have a hankering to be bound like some kind of sexual conquest. Undeniably, however, the urge was there. At least with Damien.

Now that the image had been planted, she couldn’t escape it. Instead, her mind wandered around the notion of being both helpless and exposed while he loved her in whatever way he chose. Another pulse of desire tightened her core, making her ache so hard.

She knew where he could take her even fully clothed. She had been longing for more ever since. What was she afraid of?

Being helpless? Of course. She hated being helpless. Even as her libido responded powerfully, some part of her resisted. Why?

Because she suddenly felt incredibly and uncharacteristically shy. The notion of helplessness and being fully exposed made her feel like an inexperienced schoolgirl who had never before been touched, who had never before been naked with a man in even the smallest way.

“You have to take charge?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“And I’m supposed to just let you tie me up and use me in whatever way you choose?”

“I would be a tender lover, Schatz. The point of this is pleasure, not humiliation or bad feelings. That would subvert the ritual.”

Her eyes snapped open. “I’d feel a whole lot better about this if I thought you gave a damn about me.”

He appeared astonished, which gave her a small measure of satisfaction. “I don’t call anyone else Schatz.”

“What’s that mean, anyway?”

“Treasure.”

Oh, man, he knew exactly how to slip past her defenses. Treasure? That word hit her right in the heart like a warm dart. She bit her lip. “I need to think about this, Damien. It’s not like we ever really made love before. You’re asking a lot.”

“I know. But I could, right this instant, come to you and love you in all the ways I want, ways that you want, too.”

“As long as I don’t move.”

He nodded. “It’s not that I fear hurting you. I fear forgetting myself and drinking from you at the same time.”

“So I’m still just a food group?”

“You’re far more than that or I wouldn’t even suggest this. Would it make you feel better if I come to you first as an ordinary lover?”

Would it? She didn’t know anymore. How could she when she’d had such an unexpectedly strong response to the idea of being bound by him? “Will it affect the power of the ritual?”

“It might,” he said slowly, almost reluctantly. “These rituals are usually performed by two people who have never been together before.”

“And that enhances the power for both of us? Or just for one of us?”

He shook his head a little. “Schatz, I can’t be certain. My experience in this was always with women who had no powers. You have powers yourself. Why should they not be enhanced for you as they will be for me?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it.” Her voice had grown tart again, tasting almost sour on her own tongue. “I’ve got to think about this, Damien. I feel like I just got sideswiped. And I need to know more.”

“I understand. Perhaps you should do some research on this. But I offer you one warning.”

“What’s that?”

“Your culture tries to make things like this sound bad. Don’t take their word for it. I know from experience just how empowering this would be.”

“In other words, just take your word for it.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Yes. I wish you would.”

“Do we need anything for this ritual?”

“I need to find a few things, yes. The bonds must not hurt you. I need to dress you in such a way that you feel comfortable with every step.”