Kindred (29 page)

His kiss was divine, so hot and wet and everything my body craved at that moment. “I want you so badly,
ma belle
. I am fighting to stay in control,” he whispered against my lips, his French accent thick, slipping his tongue in my mouth in between words, nibbling my bottom lip with his teeth when he finished. My hand had found his hair, scrunching it in my fingers as his kisses stoked the fire within, my other hand resting against his rock hard chest.

I pushed against that chest and rolled him over onto his back, straddling him, not caring about my near nakedness, relishing the feel of his already hard shaft pressing against me, fighting to escape the confine of his clothes. I leaned down, pulling his shirt apart, allowing the buttons to tear and pop off in all directions and began laying kisses all over his chest, up through the light curl of hair, to the hollow below his neck and then on around passed his pulse point to his ears. Biting, kissing, nibbling and loving the way he moaned and writhed beneath me.

His hands gripped me on the hips and started moving me against him, a slow languid stroking of body against body, the friction creating a heat that rapidly built threatening to consume me. Suddenly his hands left my hips and undid my bra at the back deftly, throwing it aside with what looked like offence at its obstruction. He reached up and grasped one of my now naked breasts, raising his head to take the other in his mouth.

I arched against him in response, little electrical shocks streaming through my body, a growing need creeping up from my centre stretching out to everywhere; fingers, toes, lips, right to my core. He responded with equal urgency, his hands covering my skin, every part of it he could reach, first stroking my back, then quickly moving to my arms, then down my stomach, up to my face, across my clavicle. It was as if he couldn't get enough of me, I knew how he felt.

Without even realising we had moved I felt the softness of the bed beneath me, the feeling of sinking into the covers. Michel was a blur, when he stilled he was standing in front of me in all his naked glory. He was beautiful. All lean muscles and long limbs. The cream colour of his perfect skin reflecting a slight sheen, a trickle of sweat making its mesmerizing way down the centre of his chest, then his stomach, to nestle in amongst the soft curls above his sex.  My eyes had followed its lazy journey down his body and were now resting on the sight of him. It lengthened slightly beneath my gaze.

He swallowed visibly, then moved toward me. Before I'd even drawn a breath he had removed my pants, somehow ripping them away without me even feeling it. He gently manoeuvred himself between my legs, holding the weight of his body above me with the strength of his arms. He ran his hardened shaft against me, covering the length of me, and then repeating it. I cried out in need, arching myself towards him.

He didn't give in, just continued to tease me in the same manner, leaning down to kiss me passionately on the mouth, gently biting me on the bottom lip, stopping to stroke my face and neck, then returning to teasing me again. The pressure building inside me was relentless, it couldn't escape, it wrapped around me, lifting me up on a wave and threatening to throw me off the other side, only to lower me gently back down again and then start all over.

I was writhing uncontrollably under him, gripping the sheets at my side, all but going crazy under his touch. Finally, I could stand it no longer. “Michel, please” I begged. I don't know exactly what I was begging for, to stop? To finish this? For release?

He moaned, a sound so vulnerable and raw and thrust inside me in one motion, slowly pulling out and pausing, before repeating the action again, differing the speed, lengthening the pause, making me lean towards him, reach up to grasp his shoulders, trying to pull him to me and finally calling out in frustration and need. He laughed, a warm throaty laugh, kissing me roughly on the lips and sped up his movements into me, taking me with him on a wave of pure bliss and hot need, higher and higher until we both could go no further and crashed back down to earth in the most delicious rainbow of colours.

He collapsed beside me on the bed, pulling me close and whispering sweet nothings in French against my neck, kissing me, smelling me, touching me. As though he never wanted this moment to end. My breathing was unsteady and my heart was marching to its own beat, but all I could feel was the languid bliss and afterglow that flowed through me, the warmth of his body and breath against my skin, the touch of his hands and fingers over my hot flesh.

Finally when the world stopped spinning and the colours of the rainbow behind my eyes began to fade, it occurred to me that I had thought I could stop this from happening. Boy, had I been wrong.

Michel kissed my neck above my pulse, where he had bitten me earlier and reached behind to grab the covers, pulling them up and draping them over us, cocooning us in their warmth. The kiss to my neck had reminded me of what had happened earlier, how shocked and angry I had been that he had bitten me, I reddened at the fact that I had completely forgotten that thought and fallen so willingly into his arms. What was wrong with me?

“
Why are you angry,
ma douce
?” he whispered against my cheek.

“
I'm not angry.” It was an automatic response, out before I had even comprehended his question.

“
I can feel your emotions, all of you, you have no idea how impossibly intoxicating it was when I came in this room. When I touched you. Everything I was feeling multiplied by you, but more. It was
your
want I could feel,
your
desire that washed over mine. It almost drowned me. And, I can feel your anger now too.”

“
You have got to be kidding me? You can feel what I'm feeling?” I turned my head to
look at those impossibly blue eyes.

His lips quirked slightly at the edges, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the room. “A perk of the joining it would seem.”

Oh shit. So, I wouldn't be able to hide a thing from him, well not at least what I was feeling. “You can't read my mind too, can you?”

He sobered at the sound of my voice. “No. But I don't need to, your emotions are so expressive, so vibrant, full of life. It is like a drug to me that I could never hope of quitting.” He seemed pretty pleased with this turn of events. I was mortified.

I pushed his arm and the covers away, reaching down to the bag beside the bed to find some new underwear and slipping into them quickly before he could protest. He didn't stop me, he just watched, lying back on the bed like a well fed cat, basking in the afternoon sun. I guess he was probably feeling pretty full right now. Full of my power. Full of my blood. And full of my emotions.

“
Why are you so angry?”

I clenched my fists then forced myself to relax again. Shaking my head from side to side. Well, if he really wanted to know...

“
Could it be that you hid from me the extent of power you would get in this joining? Or wait, maybe it's the fact that you bit me, without even warning me that could happen? Or, perhaps, I'm a little miffed that we just had sex, when I thought I had made it perfectly clear that that was off the menu? You pick, Michel, but if you give me enough time I'm sure I can think of more.”

I snatched my jeans up off the floor and started pulling them on, my foot getting caught sideways down one leg, forcing me to hop around while I tried to dislodge it. Bugger. Couldn't even be ladylike when throwing a hissy fit.

His arm reached out to steady me before I threatened to topple over completely, visions of when he first entered the room washing over my mind and sending sparks along my skin. Of course, I hadn't even seen him get up off the bed. He turned me towards him, but I continued to do doggedly try to do my jeans up, the bloody zip catching and sticking. He gently reached down and took over, closing the zip with a soft
zzzt
, buttoning the top closed, but leaving the fingers of one hand resting over the upper edge, just inside, holding me still by that simple contact. His other hand reached up and stroked my bed tousled hair out of my eyes.

“
I told you once before,
ma douce
. Your anger is my aphrodisiac.”

He didn't try to kiss me, his lips curling in that sly grin, then stretching further into a beautiful smile that lit up his entire face. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't look away.

“
Stop it,” I whispered.

“
Never,” he replied and grinned further.

We just stood there looking at each other, me hardly breathing, heart stammering along, him calm and implacable, but warm and open.

“
I can't go on like this, Michel. I'm going to need some space, time to think about all of this.”

“
What is there to think about, my dear? We are meant to be together, why do you fight it so?”

“
You've practically taken over my life! I'm no longer Lucinda Monk. Bank teller and vampire hunter. I'm now Lucinda Monk immortal Nosferatin, joined to a kindred master vampire and about to come in to an enormous amount of power.
And
, unable to keep my bloody hands off you.” He smiled further at that. “I need some space to get my head around all of this. I need to go back to my apartment.”

He stepped back then. “Of course. I shall have Bruno drive you.”

“
Thanks,” I said, a little unsure why he was agreeing so quickly.

“
Um, what's happening with Max? When are we going to face him?” I may have wanted out of there, to be surrounded by only myself, but I hadn't forgotten what this joining had all been for. Max was always in the back of mind, sad but true.

He didn't smile, he just wore that mask he puts on when dealing with his vampire protégé; unfeeling, unmoving, un-anything.

“
We
are not going anywhere. I am.”

My stomach dropped. “Like bloody hell!”

“
I will not be moved on this, Lucinda.” Great. We'd made it to Lucinda already. “You would be in great danger from Maximilian and I will not have it.”

“
You don't get to decide everything, Michel.”

“
Oh? Why would you think that? We are joined and you are still an immature Nosferatin, yet you believe you can go up against a master vampire who has joined to a Nosferatin himself. A master vampire that will be more powerful than any you have faced before. You cannot imagine the power he will wield against you. Clearly your abilities to judge the situation are lacking and therefore, I must do it for you. You are not invincible, Lucinda and I will not have you harmed.”

I was not sure if that last sentence had been tagged on there just because he was getting a doozy of emotional anger rolling off me right then, I really wasn't convinced that he was
that
concerned for my safety. Sure I get killed he dies, but it's not the same as wanting someone's well-being because you care, is it?

Right now, I really wasn't even sure if he cared.

“
How do you think you can stop me, Michel?” Huh! I had him there.

“
My powers may have little effect on you, my dear, but Bruno's would. He will contain you until this is over.” Oops. Forgot about that.

“
This isn't right, Michel. I am a vampire hunter, I am capable of doing this, you need to have some more faith in me.” My voice had sort of trailed of at the end there. I hadn't meant it to, it was just, well, I was kind of feeling a bit rejected and doubtful really. Rejected by Michel, whom I admit I did seek approval from - sucker that I am - and doubtful of my own abilities. If Michel said I couldn't handle it, was he right?

He just stood there, an odd look on his face, rigid in his body but such conflict in his eyes, like he was battling something inside. He shook his head and let a long breath out. His features softened a bit then and he ran a hand through his hair. “I am not used to all this emotion. How can you live with this? It should consume you, rule you, yet you go from one emotion to the other without pause. I had forgotten how turbulent being a human could truly be.”

I didn't know what to say to that.
Serves you right
seemed a tad babyish, so I just looked at him. If he was having trouble receiving all my emotions then he should try living in my skin. On second thoughts, maybe not.

He sat back down on the bed then, looking a little defeated. My hopes rose, maybe he would meet me half way on this one. If we were going to work side by side for near eternity then we had to start trusting each other, right?

Unfortunately I'm not as good at reading him, as he is at reading me.

“
I am sorry that you cannot understand that this is for the best.”

Not I'm sorry for being a jackass, or I'm sorry for not believing in you, or I'm sorry I'm hurting your feelings and making you feel inferior and a child. No. That would mean he was something remotely like a human and Michel was definitely not. My life was spiralling out of control, I could hear the gurgle of it spinning down the plughole out of sight. If I didn't do something to stop this, I was going to lose complete command and Michel
would
be my master. I couldn't allow that to happen. I could not allow myself to be anyone's property. Hell, I'm a 21
st
Century woman, damn it. This is not the middle ages!