Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) (16 page)

“Not safe, Anne.”

“Why do you say that?” Anne could tell something had shifted. “Is there some kind of bad news?”

“No. I must wait for an appointment with the council. I’ve requested it, but there are more pressing matters.”

“I thought you said . . .”

“Patience. Plus the fact that every time we are together it is all I can do to keep from . . .”

 “Why can’t I come over there? I need you now. I’m starving. Are you on the other side of the world or something?”

“No, I’m right here.”

She looked up to see him standing at the foot of her bed. She threw herself into his arms. The pink robe opened up the front to expose her breasts to his hands, and then his lips. He pressed her down and peeled back the robe as slowly as he could, as if she was some fragile china doll. She watched with greedy eyes, her breasts moving up and down from her heavy breathing. The muscles between her legs twitched. He kissed her hip, her bellybutton. He kissed down her stomach, moving lower and lower until he was at her puffy, hairless lips. She inhaled as he extended his tongue and licked her sex.

He grew tense and sat up. “You bleed.”

“Yes, I noticed that this morning. It’s the first time in almost two months. She watched him as he thought. “Is this a bad thing, Marcus? I mean, you said . . .”

He was serious now. “Get yourself packed. I think I have a solution to your problem about staying here.”

“We’re going to your place?”

“No, I have to go somewhere. You are coming with me, if you are willing.”

He smiled as she squealed with delight and writhed on the bed. Going on a trip with Marcus, just the two of them. How exciting.

He was next to her in an instant, his mouth covering hers. He rolled to his back, pulling her naked body over him. He tugged his shirt away at the collar, exposing his jugular. “We haven’t much time. Feed. Then pack your things and meet me at Starbucks, as soon as you can, okay?”

She nodded, then popped his buttons off, laid her breasts against his bare skin, and dug her fangs into his neck. They both groaned. She took him fiercely, needing to feel his blood course through her. Marcus laughed until he cried.

She spotted Marcus’s long, lanky form while he leaned against the Ferrari, a cappuccino balanced in one hand. She parked the bomber by itself in a deserted area, not knowing how long they would be gone. She wanted to protect the car.

She wasn’t going to kiss Marcus and make a scene, but she saw in his eyes that he expected some display, so she ran headlong into him, causing him to juggle the coffee without spilling it on either of them or the car. He felt warm and hard for her. His dark eyes smiled at the corners all the time now. It was thrilling to see him so happy and to know she was partially the cause.

“You going to teach me how to trace with baggage?” she asked as she sunk into the Ferrari’s leather seat. He slammed the door and quickly came around to the driver’s side. He got in and leaned over, then planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“No, we’re flying this time. I have things I have to bring as well.”

 The Ferrari kicked in and her head slammed into the headrest, something she was quickly getting used to.

“Don’t you ever drive slowly?”

“Why?”

They both laughed. Instead of heading to San Francisco to the big airport there, they drove up 101 to the Sonoma County Airport. They parked the black beast and were greeted by a short man in a pilot’s uniform, who gestured for them to follow. He knew Marcus.

“No ticket?” she asked.

“Not when you own the plane.”

Anne raised her eyebrows up, impressed.

Marcus leaned into her. “There are things you can do on a jet you can’t do when you trace.”

“Oh.” Another new experience.

All by itself, a sleek white jet stood on the runway. They headed straight for it. A cabin steward who asked if they wanted something to drink greeted them.

“A little red wine, I think, or would you like champagne? I have an excellent Merlot Champagne, gorgeous color.” Marcus was waiting for her answer. Anne had always loved champagne. She had not had any since her wedding day.

“Is it okay to have alcohol?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t have too much.” Marcus took her arm and led her to the back as the steward dispatched to get the glasses and the bubbly. There was a desk with computer console and telephone, a combination printer/fax machine, and swivel lounge chairs done in butter frosting white that had the smoothest grain of leather she had ever felt. He took her hand and showed her a full bathroom with shower and double vanity. Two fluffy white robes with an M emblem on the breast pocket lay at the lip of a substantial tub. Anne’s eyes grew wide as she looked over everything.

Marcus grabbed her hand and took her to the very back, which was a bedroom. He pulled her to him with a huge hand around her waist, hungry for her. She always felt he was hungry for her. She wanted to do nothing else but please him and give him back her love in return.

His mouth covered hers. He knelt before her and pulled up her top. He kissed her stomach, his long fingers reaching under her bra. She took her top off and showed him the black piece she had bought at Victoria’s Secret.

“This is nice, very nice. I know some places where you will be showered with lovelies in every color. But I like you best like this.” He released the clasp of the bra and black silk fell to the ground.

The captain spoke, signaling they were about to take off. The steward had left a chilled bottle on the table in its holder and two poured glasses of the ruby colored drink beside it. Marcus handed one to Anne, then took a seat in the recliner, holding his glass and motioning her to join him. Topless, she sat, leaning her back into his chest as he strapped them in with one long seatbelt, securing them for takeoff. She turned slightly to lay her head against his chest.

“A toast?” he asked. “I am parched.” With their arms entwined, the two flutes touched with a ring. “To us, may we love forever.”

“Yes, Marcus. To us forever.”

The bubbles made her nose feel itchy, and she rubbed it. The sensation of drinking something other than blood was odd. But she had to admit it was pleasant.

“Do we get drunk?”

“Not really. Takes an awful lot of alcohol. We usually get sick before we can get drunk. We are immune to most the effects of alcohol, but we can enjoy the taste. I’m actually going to make some very good wine.”

After they were airborne, he unhooked them and brought the bottle over for a refill. “I’ve always wanted to do this. Indulge me, okay?”

He held the flute up to Anne’s breast and pressed it against her nipple to wet it with the red mixture. Her nipples hardened from the cold liquid, but glistened and quivered. He put his mouth over the nipple and sucked the champagne from her body. Anne felt the place between her legs gush.

“Shall I do the other one?” He kissed her, searching for her tongue and pinning it down with his own.

“Yes,” she moaned into his mouth. “Please.”

He dipped her other breast into his flute, spilling some on her pants. He feigned horror. “Oh, my, you have soiled your pants. You must remove them. Jason will wash them for you.” He slipped his fingers along the waistband, unhooked the clasp at the front, and pulled down the zipper one bit at a time, kissing her, wiping her lips with his tongue.

Anne was about ready to pass out. Marcus was the best kisser she had ever known. He was skilled in the art of seduction, doing things she didn’t even know existed. She was grateful for his experience, for she would be his last lover.

She stood and let him remove her jeans. There she was, in the black thong with just enough lace to drive him crazy.

“Ah, I like this view very much,” he said. He knelt in front of her, kissing her through her panties.

“Marcus, I have always wanted to do something. Indulge me, okay?”

He smiled at her imitation of his play.

She bid him to stand. Then she kneeled and undid his trousers, slipping the zipper down his front, kissing the opening. She smoothed his pants down his legs to his ankles, then prodded him to step out of them. She removed his silk boxers. His erection was throbbing, lurching with each little touch of the back of her hand, her fingers, or her hair. She gripped him in one hand and held her champagne flute in the other, holding it up to him.

“More.” He reached for the bottle and emptied the contents into her glass. She guided his cock to the flute, and with delicate fingers, dipped him in the cool red bubbly. He jumped at the cold. Anne’s eyes were fixated on his velvet shaft. She wet her lips, set her glass down, and covered his head with her mouth, sucking the champagne from him.

“Mmm. This tastes just wonderful. You taste so good.” Marcus was almost overcome. She stroked him, massaging his scrotum with her hands, sometimes kissing and sucking. He slammed his hips upward, thrusting his cock deep into her hungry mouth. The tip of one of her fangs nicked him and she tasted just a drop of him as his bulbous head shoved past. At last he came into her mouth, filling her. She shuddered as she took every drop.

He took her hand and led her to the bathroom, then drew bath water. He held her the full length of him, his cock still hard, pressing against her lower belly.

“How many times can you do this? You don’t get soft? Ever?”

“Not with you, pet. I’ve never had my fated female. Nothing else compares, my love.”

He slipped off her thong with one long forefinger, which then found the hot spot between her legs. God she wanted him there, but his finger would have to do for now. He picked her up and set her on the granite vanity surface, her back flat against the mirror, raising her knees to over his shoulders. He stroked her now with two fingers.

“I want your cock inside me, Marcus. Please. Please, can I have it?” She felt him inhale. She almost thought he would ram himself into her at that moment, but he moaned and sank to his knees. He spoke the ancient words. Anne could feel the insides of her body vibrate to the rhythm of his voice. He played her like an instrument. Every part of her sang. She felt the long smooth orgasm send radiations of pleasure all the way to her fingertips.

“Ah, my pet,” he said into her ear as he raised and kissed her. “I want to so bad, so bad. Help me be strong. We mustn’t.”

“Why? You said so yourself we are fated.”

“It would be unfair of me. I have to ask permission.”

Anne frowned at him. “Permission? You need to have permission to have sex?” That was about the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

Chapter 15

Laurel cut fresh flowers from her garden, then wrapped them in newspaper after tying them together with a rubber band. She placed the bouquets on top of an envelope addressed to Paolo, her oldest brother. It would be good to see him. It had been almost seven years. She missed his warm, gentle ways. He always maintained contact with her, in secret. None of the other family members, his two other sisters and three other brothers, had anything to do with him, not even Marcus. But she was able to pass on to Paolo family news. His own news stayed with her alone.

She heard his light tap on the front door of the villa. She eagerly ran to the door, pulled it open, and was greeted with a blast of warm sunshine and Paolo’s big grin, full of startlingly white teeth.

“Paolo.” She whispered into his shoulder as he hugged her fiercely. “I have missed you so much.” He smelled of the woods, his favorite place to be.

“Yes, my favorite sister, I have missed you, as well.”

“Can you stay awhile? Marcus comes, and he brings his fated female. He will be here tonight.”

“Maya?”

“No, her name is Anne. She was mortal when he met her, but he knew right away.”

“She is no longer mortal?”

“No.” Laurel felt her face fall. She looked down to avoid eye contact.

“I see,” Paolo whispered. Laurel looked up to his thoughtful frown and ushered him in.

How can I explain things? Everything has changed since Marcus met Anne.
Laurel fixed her hair, bringing the fine strands that had escaped the tortoise shell clip she wore at the back of her neck back under control. It felt like wiping the cobwebs of doubt from her mind.

Paolo stepped into the hallway, then stopped, scanning the carved ceiling covered in gold leaf. Laurel remembered the balls they had attended here, first as children and then later when her brothers were eligible bachelors. She had watched the beautifully gowned ladies her brothers courted. One by one, each of them had found their fated females. Except for Marcus and Paolo. Two of her other sisters had married over a hundred years ago. Their children were now having great grandchildren. Almost two centuries had passed before Paolo declared he’d had enough. It broke her heart that he left their family to seek his own way, to live among mortals. He never had children, but she knew he had married. Three times.

“How is your wife?”

“She is fading, but free from pain at least. This one is living longer. She’s seventy now, but still as beautiful as the day I met her.”

“You are a good husband to her, I just know it.”

“The best. She is my third, you know. This is the painful time for me.” Paolo had lost both his other wives when they were young.

“Perhaps you will find your fated female in our kind, then you won’t have to go through the heartache again.”

“No. That won’t be. I don’t believe in the fate. Look at the mess it’s made for Marcus and yourself.”

“I am patient. Mine will come, and I shall wait for him. Perhaps he is yet human and hasn’t undergone the change. In the meantime, I have my bachelor brother I must tend to. Come, I have something for you.” She took his hand and led him into the kitchen. She handed him the flowers and then the envelope. He smelled the bouquet while dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Then he went to the thick envelope.

“What’s this?”

“A surprise. Open it.”

He broke the seal and his eager fingers flushed out several old pieces of paper. They were letters. Paolo looked up at Laurel, a question in his eye.