'Need me,' I moaned as he yanked my underwear off. I swirled my tongue around the curve of his ear, rubbing my now naked body against him, my senses overloading with the feel of his bare chest on mine, the soft hair teasing my breasts even as the rough texture of his jeans abraded more sensitive flesh. He dropped to his knees with a groan, his mouth suddenly possessing me in a way that left me gasping for air, my legs boneless as his tongue flicked and teased and tasted until I clutched his head to me and gave in to the passion he fired.
'Never!' He lifted my still trembling body and followed me down to the bed after shucking his jeans and boots. His body covered mine, all male strength and heat, but it was the sharp hunger within him that had me arching against him, my hands exploring the wonderful territory of his back and adorable behind.
I scraped my nails up his spine as he spread my legs. 'Love me!'
'I cannot,' he swore, his eyes a deep brilliant blue that burned deep into my soul a scant moment before his hips flexed. Like a brand he seared a path deep into my body, filling me, possessing me, completing me. The red hunger swelled in him, blending with his desire to join with me until it was a piercing white need that consumed me even as his mouth lowered to my shoulder. Pain sharp and hot faded into pleasure as his teeth sank into the base of my neck. The pleasure in the act of him taking life from me was almost as great as the orgasm I teetered on the brink of, his body moving against me with more and more force, our minds joined, his pleasure feeding mine until I honestly thought I would just simply die from the ecstasy of it all. In that moment, in that shining, brilliant moment of clarity I knew we were joined in a way more fundamental than a mere joining of bodies. We were meant to be together, and nothing he could say would change that.
His tongue lapped at my neck as he rolled over, holding me tight against him so we were still locked together intimately. Within him the pleasure faded, the blackness returning as sorrow and anguish banished the joy of our joining.
A cold chill clutched my heart.
His breath was harsh on my ears, his chest heaving beneath me, the sweet, salty taste of him filling my mouth as I kissed his collarbone. I wanted to weep for him, weep for us both.
An agony of truth filled his mind, spilling over into mine.
I smiled into his neck and relaxed against him, my body still trembling with little aftershocks of pleasure. I didn't want to put a name to what I was feeling for him, I just wanted to enjoy it.
'I'm not going to grow fangs now, am I?'
'No.'
'Good.' I traced a swirly pattern idly across the curse that bound Adrian's chest, admiring both the strength he possessed and the gentleness he'd shown me. 'I don't think I could cope with a bloodlust, although I have to admit I find it incredibly sexy when you… you know… dine on me. But I can do without the fang issue. So, any guesses as to why yours suddenly went retractable?'
He opened one eye and gave me an outraged look.
'Oh, right. Recovery time. Sorry. I forgot that men don't like to chat right away. You rest. I'll just lay here snuggly warm and remember how wonderful it felt when we merged together.'
He groaned as my hand slid down over his belly. 'Is there any reason you feel the need to draw wards on me?'
I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at his chest and stomach in growing horror. 'I didn't… I mean, I don't remember how… I've never really drawn wards before.'
'You drew a binding ward on Sebastian,' he answered, both eyes open now, his irises a speculative light blue. Glimmering faintly in the dim gray light that seeped in through the curtains, an intricate pattern of green spread across his chest and down over his stomach. Beneath the swirls and curves and dips of the pattern, the harsh, sharp lines of the curse glowed red. 'It takes a strong ward to hold a Dark One.'
'I know I did it, but I don't know how! It just happened!'
His disbelief was strong in my mind. I shook out the mental welcome mat and allowed him in to see the truth for himself. 'You must have had some sort of training. People do not just draw powerful binding wards by accident.'
'It's kind of odd having you in my head,' I mused, running my finger along one silky auburn eyebrow, smoothing out the frown that had formed. 'I'm not quite sure I like it. Except when we… you know. Then it's really fabulous. And before you say what I know you're going to say, no, I haven't forgotten any Charmer training. I was never trained. Not formally. I met with a Wiccan a couple of times, that's all.'
'But something happened to you, something so horrible you will not allow me access to the memory.' His fingers touched my left cheek.
I looked away, biting my lip against the unexpectedness of his endearment
'I'm not allowed to ask?' His voice was a deep velvet rumble along my skin that had me shivering in sensual delight.
'No, you can ask. It's only fair, since you've put up with me asking you all sorts of personal questions.' I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I'd been more intimate with him than with any other person, and looked him dead in the eye. 'I killed my best friend when I was twenty. I had a stroke after that.'
He stared at me, plainly waiting for more. I curled up on his chest, hiding myself so his cerulean eyes couldn't see into my soul.
'That is all you are going to say? That is all the explanation you are going to give me?'
'The stroke is why my smile is crooked, and why my left side isn't as strong as the right,' I said to his nipple. Beneath my cheek, his chest rose and fell, warm and strong and alive, and I wondered how anyone could think of a Dark One as the undead.
I heaved a mental sigh and knew I wasn't going to get away with not explaining the whole of my painful past. I stroked along his chest, feeling the slight tingle of the curse as my fingers crossed the path of its pattern. 'I told you I couldn't charm the curse that binds you. That's not only because I don't exactly know how to charm, but because the one time I did try, my roommate ended up dead, and I spent three months in the hospital after having fried my brain.'
Adrian's mind curled itself around mine as memory of that horrible night filled me, images dancing before my mind's eye of Beth's smiling face as she urged me to try to untangle the curse woven into an altar cloth said to have been owned by Tomas de Torquemada, the infamous Spanish inquisitor.
'Come on, Nellie,' Beth had said with a hushed giggle that night so long ago as she unlocked the door to the antiquities room in the university museum where she did her work-study time. 'Aunt Li said the curse is right up your alley. All you have to do is unmake it like a ward.'
'And I'll say the same thing I said to your aunt, Beth: I don't know a thing about wards and curses. It's all Greek to me. Just because she thinks I'm adorable—'
'A Charmer, not adorable, you idiot,' she replied fondly, flipping on her flashlight before hurrying to a tall locked cabinet on the far side of the room. 'And Aunt Li should know.'
'So she's a big noise in the Chinese Wiccan society—that doesn't mean she knows everything, Beth. She was remarkably vague when it came to explaining to me just why she felt I was going to be able to undo a curse. And as for those wards, she only showed me a couple. I can't even remember what they were for.'
Beth sorted through a collection of keys on a ring as big as my wrist, selecting one to open the cabinet. 'Well, you're really good with getting knots untied. How hard can a curse be?'
I laughed softly as she pulled a small wooden box from the cabinet, opening it to reveal a soiled, tattered piece of blue wool material. Beth seemed oddly reluctant to touch the cloth, instead shoving the box at me, gesturing for me to sit on the floor. I touched a finger to a rent in the material, noticing that despite its age, the
