Kiss of the Dragon (10 page)

"What do you want,
ma belle
?" he whispered, his fingers listlessly stroking down my side and over my hip to my thigh and then back up again.

"You," I breathed.

He appeared above me, his handsome face the only thing I could see. "I think I want to taste you again first,
ma belle
," he said simply.

"I want to taste you," I argued in return.

"Really?" He cocked his head to the side watching me writhe beneath him. He was no longer touching me, his body suspended a few centimetres above mine, but still I was unable to lie still. "I would have thought you'd want me inside you," he added with a small smile, as though he was trying to hide his delight at my reactions.

"I haven't tasted you for so long," I complained in an almost whine, suddenly thinking that was the best idea I'd had in weeks.

I saw a flicker behind his eyes, something flashed there; a hunger, a desire that matched my own. He swallowed a couple of times and I watched his Adam's apple dip, it was obvious he was
really
fighting his reaction to my words and then he lost the battle. He moved swiftly above me, placing himself directly over my face, with one hand he palmed his straining erection, stroking the length of it before my eyes. I whimpered and moaned, he whispered something that sounded decidedly like, "Fuck." But Michel wasn't one to usually use that word, so I thought I must have misheard him.

Then I watched mesmerised as a pearl appeared on the tip of his sex, he ran a finger over the broad flat head smearing the substance around the surface and then I couldn't stop my pain-filled groan and the writhe of my body beneath him.

"You want this?" he asked in a low and husky voice.

I nodded, unable to talk anymore, just pleading with my eyes for him to put me out of my misery.

"Take it," he commanded, shifting himself to a better angle, placing the tip of his erection to my lips.

I greedily licked the surface and watched as his nostrils flared and his eyes closed to half mast, and then I tipped my head up and sucked as much of the long length as I could manage in my mouth. He groaned aloud, I sucked and licked harder and faster with that little encouragement, groaning and writhing beneath him myself. The more I sucked, the faster I took him, the harder his hips thrust back. He was losing control and I was watching the entire scene from front row seats as his walls tumbled around him and he let me see him bare.

I wanted so desperately to touch him, my hands shaking the ties with force above my head as I tried to pull free. It was torture, but the restriction of not being able to use my fingers to satisfy my desires, meant I had to rely on my mouth. I had never thought my lips and tongue could be so sensitive, or deliver such delight on their own before. But they were all I had at my mercy, so I used them in every way possible, shutting down all other sensations and only concentrating on what I could do and feel with my mouth.

"
Mon dieu!"
Michel almost shouted above me, his movements demanding, his body coated in sweat, his eyes fully magenta now. I could see him straining for control, trying not to fall over the edge and come, but unable to pull away from the pleasure I was giving.

Maybe it was the whole picture, the lead-up to this moment; the flirting in the sitting room, the candles, soft lighting and low music. The massage definitely played a part. Even the velvet strips tying me to the bedpost, I was sure. He was watching me move, his eyes trailing over my entire body beneath him, then to my lips and tongue on his shaft, my face betraying my own pleasure and then finally flicking back up to the soft restraints on my wrists.

He liked that I was trapped beneath him. This didn't alarm or surprise me, I knew how Michel loved me, but I also knew he was vampyre. To have one's prey cornered was too much to resist. I was his kindred, his love, but tonight he had methodically hunted me, from when we arrived in that sitting room and he made his intentions clear, until now. He'd had a plan and he'd executed it. And now he was reaping the rewards.

Come,
I encouraged in his mind. His eyes flicked back to me and then closed briefly. He jerked in my mouth a couple of times, struggling for control and then failing. I felt his shaft strain and thicken. I increased my efforts and then the moment I knew I had won, he pulled out, shifted down my body and replaced his erection with his lips and tongue. He kissed me completely, making me gasp with his purposeful pursuit of my mouth. I felt his warm seed spray against my stomach between us, his body shuddering above me and his loud groan flowing down my throat as he continued to kiss me senseless.

"
Mon dieu,
" he said for the second time. His face nestled into the curve of my neck, his body now pressed to mine with most of his weight still on his arms beside my head. But his groin firmly against my stomach, smearing his release between us in a deliciously warm and sticky mess.
I loved it.
"You are impossible to resist,
ma douce
." he whispered, his tongue licking at my earlobe.

"So are you," I replied, feeling the slight beginnings of frustration. I really hadn't thought this all through. I had gotten my way, definitely, but in the process lost the chance for release myself. Damn.

He began to chuckle above me, then shifted his hips bringing my attention to the fact he was still rock hard. I whimpered in anticipation, he pressed himself firmer into me, ensuring I felt every delicious inch of his hard length.

"Was there something else you wanted?" he asked on a grin. I could feel the tipped up edges of his smile against my skin.

"I wouldn't want to put you out or anything," I shot back.

"I have time," he quipped.

Then he shifted his hips again, placing himself between my legs, the tip of his shaft at my entrance... and then waited. I wrapped my legs around him, tilted my pelvis thinking that would be all it took, but he still didn't move a further inch inside.

"Say it," he commanded in a whisper. "Tell me want you want."

I tugged on the restraints above me in frustration. He was clearly still on the hunt for my capitulation and wouldn't give in until I gave him all of me. His eyes flicked up to where I was still tied to the bed, and I watched as desire and lust washed over them, followed by all manner of shades of purple. It was stunning. But I knew I had him. I shifted my wrists again, straining, pulled hard against the velvet making the material dig into my flesh and twisted my hands at the same time.

He was trapped, his eyes locked on where I was trapped. I licked my lips, continued to strain against the restraints and watched as he lost control, the image of composed vampire falling off his face, being replaced with turned-on, lust-filled male instead. His eyes flicked down to mine and he
muttered, "Always a competition,
ma douce,
" and then thrust his hips sinking his entire length deep inside.

I groaned in pleasure and had that quickly kissed away, and then he started to move. For several seconds I was lost in the beauty of it all. The sensation of him moving inside me, the feel of his hard length reaching the very end of me, stretching me delightfully, shifting in a way that made me beg for more against his lips. He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more demanding, but I met each movement with an equally demanding thrust of my hips in return.

"More?" he husked above me. I nodded.

And then he let himself have free rein. One hand came down and grabbed my thigh, lifting my leg up high and out to the side, the other hand planted firmly against the bed at my head. He pounded into me in a way he hadn't done since the claiming, taking my body with each single movement, claiming me, completing me,
devouring
me. I screamed as I came in a rush, so much build-up making the orgasm more intense than it normally would be. Michel swore softly above me, his movements faltered slightly and then as he came a second time his fangs pierced the side of my neck above my pulse and the world spun completely out of control.

He drank down my blood at the same time as drawing our orgasms out with each pull on my vein, the connection of him feeding from me, making the moment suspended in time. His hips continued to rock against me, but the pounding had segued into a grinding that sent me over another edge, making the climax swiftly become something sweet, rather than simply cataclysmic.

I was in Heaven. Michel was my God.

Finally he withdrew his fangs and licked the wound closed, his movements slowed even further, meting out the last of our pleasure into a soft haze of delight. He moved, undoing the ties above my head easily and massaging my arms as he pulled me with him, so we stayed connected. And then he tucked me against his side. His hand ran down my back and pulled a blanket over us, as his other hand pressed my cheek against his chest.

"You are wrong," he whispered into my hair. "It is I who worships you."

I sighed against him and within seconds, somehow, was asleep. My only thoughts were on his last whispered words and the fact that to each other, we were simply the world.

I woke up entirely too turned on. For a moment or two, confusion reined. Was I still dreaming? Was I back in
Álfheimr
and all that I had thought had happened - being reunited with Michel, seeing my vampires again, the
Château
- was an incredibly cruel dream? I sucked in a breath at that thought and then released it on a moan of delight, thinking to hell with it, if this was a dream, I'd let it play out before dissecting it to shreds.

A large, warm hand wrapped around my breast from behind, the heat of a body encased my back and thighs as we lay on our sides, and then the exquisite feeling of Michel stretching me deliciously wide as he slid inside from behind. Dream or no dream, this was heaven.

"
Ma douce,
" he groaned, hot breath washing the hair at the back of my head. His face began to nuzzle the curve where my neck met my shoulder. "I couldn't wait for you to wake up," he added, bringing a little clarity to the situation, which was quickly overshadowed by utter bliss. "Not when your dreams," - a groan - "were
so
intoxicating," he threw in as he finally seated himself deep within.

I felt complete. Whole. Perfect again.

And most definitely awake. Reality, in all its gorgeous, sometimes terrifying, but most often and especially right now, beautiful splendour came washing back in - and I relished it. I relished Michel. The feel of skin on skin, his heat entrapping me, his arms securing me, his touch releasing me; bringing me alive with a simple swipe of his fingers across sensitive flesh. I was his to command and he knew how to make my body -
me
- fly.

Our movements were fluid, slow, languid, yet electrifying at the same time. Every purposeful thrust of his hips, shift of his pelvis, elicited a response from me - usually a moan of delight or a plea for more. Our breathing sped up, our heartbeats escalated, but still our movements were so blessedly sensual, delightfully paced, reverently beautiful.

Michel could love me in so many delicious and different ways. Sometimes I never knew which he would choose. But, right in this instant,
this
was my favourite. Slow, purposeful, waking us both up in a such an intimate, decadent and luscious way. I craved his body. His touch.
Him
. But it was obvious he craved me just as much.

No matter what happened in our lives, Michel and I would always feel this.

"Michel," I half whispered, half moaned. His hand slipped down from my breast to between my thighs and his fingers began to deftly slide exactly over the right spot.

"Yes,
ma belle?
" he rasped against my hair. I whimpered as his fingers made a particularly beautiful sweep at just the perfect pressure. "That's it," he encouraged. "Show me."

I unravelled in an exquisite rainbow of colours, my body reacting to his touch, to what he was doing to me both inside and out. A soft moan escaped my lips, his name lost in amongst the sound. I heard his groan of delight combine with mine, felt his teeth scrape across my sweat soaked skin and then the hot spurt of his release inside. We both sunk further into the mattress, letting the moment wash over us, taking our breath away for a few seconds, leaving us completely sated and utterly loved.

Michel kissed my shoulder softly, wrapped his arm around my waist, giving a small squeeze and then lightly said, "Good afternoon,
ma douce
. Sleep well?"

I couldn't stop the giggle that erupted out of my mouth. He chuckled in return.

"Hmm." Another soft caress from his lips. "I can't seem to keep my hands off you," he admitted in a deep, sexy purr.

"Is that such a bad thing?" I asked, snuggling in further to his embrace, delighting in his touch.

"Not at all," he conceded. "Only..." A kiss against my naked shoulder, the sweep of his thumb over my taut nipple. "I may never let you go, if I continue."

"Not bad at all, then," I said on a rush of air as his tongue found that sensitive spot behind my earlobe.

"Minx," he chastised playfully. "How am I expected to get any work done if I am succumbing to your demands?"

Now wait just a minute. "Demands?" I said and arched an eyebrow at him over my shoulder.

His chest rumbled with his silent laughter, the feeling of his body moving against mine in such a fashion was spellbinding. I think I forgot to breathe. He stopped short, noticing my lack of breath, and raised an eyebrow of his own.

"I forgot how mesmerising you are," I admitted finally.

His eyes flashed magenta, his lips parted showing a glint of fangs behind. His vampire-within was responding to my words just as much as the man. I shifted so I could look up at him, lying flat on my back. My hand came up to cup his cheek as he hovered over me, my eyes never leaving his beautiful violet ones.

"My kindred," I said in a daze. When was I not in a daze looking at Michel?

"Mine," he replied, his eyelids lowering seductively, but his gaze firmly locked on me.

For several moments neither of us spoke. Too wrapped up in the realisation that we were together again. Kindred again. For him, like me, nothing could compare to that.

It was me who broke the spell. "I don't know how I'm going to leave you to go to London. How I'm going to let you go alone to Paris." The admission actually hurt. I held my breath again.

Michel looked pained for a moment, and then finally lowered his head to rest his forehead against mine. There was a time when Michel could mask his emotions well, hide behind a vampire mask of impassivity. Not anymore. Not with me. He inhaled deeply. I waited for him to say something, but it never came. He just held me, forehead against forehead, but didn't utter a sound.

It dawned on me, that there was nothing he
could
say. It was what it was and neither of us wanted it that way.

"For a few more minutes can we pretend we don't have responsibilities?" I asked eventually.

His lips curved into a delicious grin.

"I can give you better than a few more minutes,
ma douce
." The grin turned a little wicked.

"You can?" I asked, in mock surprise.

"
Oui
," he said in that delightful French accent of his. I smiled despite the decidedly mischievous grin now gracing his face. "I can give you..." - he paused, flicked his gaze across the bed somewhere, then returned to look down at me - "oh, about ninety or so."

I must have frowned, because his grin turned into a legitimate smile. Blinding in its beauty.

"We have at least an hour and a half before we need to get ready to leave." Hmm. Only ninety minutes. "You seem disappointed," he remarked. The smile, though, remained.

I couldn't stay frustrated with that gorgeous face hovering above me, but I refused to give in too easily to his charm.

"You'll have to make the short amount of time worthwhile, then," I suggested in a pretend huff.

His eyes flashed an alluring combination of violets.

"Oh, I'm sure I am up to the task,
ma douce
."

I couldn't contain my smile any further. Michel's exuberance, when like this, was infectious.

"Put your money where your mouth is then, vampire."

"I'd rather put my mouth where my mind is," he shot back and proceeded to show me exactly where his mind currently was.

Ninety minutes wasn't nearly enough, but if there's one thing to say about Michel Durand: Master Vampire, he's very good at time management. I can honestly say I have never had a better hour and a half, and I was quite sure the memories of what he did to me, made me feel, branded on my mind, would stay with me forever. And I think that was exactly his intention too. To give me delicious lasting memories to take away with me.

I watched on quietly as he dressed in his signature Armani suit, after we had both showered and reluctantly parted. My fingers itched to continue to touch him. The desire to do so was impossible to ignore. With his back to me, I stood silently from the bed and walked up behind him. My hands found his shoulders without conscious thought. The familiar shape of his broad back was like coming home to my fingers. He stilled in tying his tie, his eyes lifting to mine in the mirror. I held his gaze, continuing to stroke my hand reverently over his back, down his sides, across his rear. Even through the fabric of his suit he felt divine.

"It is only three days,
ma douce
," he said softly, homing in on the exact emotion I was desperately - and unsuccessfully - trying to ignore.

"I know," I said softly.

He turned around and lifted his hands up to cup my cheeks. His eyes wandered across my face, every place his gaze landed sent a thrill through my body. The man could melt with a look alone.

"
Tu es la raison de mon existence, ma petite lumière,"
he whispered, his voice low and slightly rough.
"
Je ne suis rien
s
ans toi. Tu apportes la lumière et la joie à ma vie."
He brought his forehead down gently to rest against mine. I felt his hot breath wash my lips. "
Je t'aime, ma douce. Je t'aime."

I'd learned a little French in the time I had known Michel. And he had called me his
little light
and said I was
the reason for his existence
to me before. But his beautifully spoken and heartfelt words now, simply melted my heart, stole my breath away, and seared themselves into the very depths of my soul.

I am nothing without you. You bring light and joy to my life. I love you, my sweet one. I love you.

There was a romantic deep inside this vampire. It wasn't the part of him that came from the dragon-within. It was from the part of him, that had once been human. When I first met Michel he had almost forgotten that side of himself. Necessity, the cruel winds of fate, experiences, had all made him lock his humanity away, seal it behind Dark doors. It had taken time and patience - sometimes a whole lot of patience - to shed Light on that part of him again.

But more and more I saw the man behind the vampire. The human man he once was.

And I loved him as much as I loved what made him vampire. The two parts to his soul. The two parts to Michel Durand. To me he could not be one without the other. To me... he was perfect.

"I love you, too," I whispered, reaching up on the tip of my toes and laying a delicate - almost chaste - kiss against his lips.

He let a sound out that could have been mistaken for pain, but the deepening of the kiss he returned to me, let me know this was a much wanted type of pain. Leaving him was the hardest thing to do. But knowing he loved me and wanted me and missed me as much as I missed him, made it easier to bear. Sharing the pain made it possible to do.

We had responsibilities. He was the Champion now. To the Nosferatu. And, if we had our way, to the Nosferatin as well. Somewhere throughout the centuries the
Iunctio,
as it stands today, forgot that. Like vampires, they turned towards the Dark and in doing so, they turned their back on their Lighter brethren: the Nosferatin. Michel had once told me that we were once of the same ilk. Nosferatu and Nosferatin. Nero, my friend and Nosferatin trainer, had mentioned it as well, although exactly how we were that, was lost in the passing of time. Nero had assumed the Nosferatu God was related to our Goddess, Nut in some way. But in all that I have seen and heard, since starting this life, never has it been proven so.

Still, I
did
believe, that in some way, Nosferatu and Nosferatin were more than just connected. How could we not be? We are their kindred. They are ours. We are stronger together, weaker apart. Nosferatin are designed to bring the Nosferatu back towards the Light. It is ingrained in us, something we cannot deny. When I feel the pull to a Dark vampire, I have no choice but to go to them. And as the Prophesied; the one Nosferatin destined to balance out the Light with the Dark, I am also compelled to do more.

Save them. Wash them in my Light. Hold their Dark dear.

But I am not alone in that. Amisi, Yves, Sophie, Arthur and his London team of Nosferatins, all feel the need to save them too. I just have added abilities that make the job a little easier. I can
seek
them with my
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
talent. I can
lure
them with my
Prohibitum Bibere
talent. And finally, I can balance their Dark with my Light, with my
Lux Lucis Tribuo
talent. All of which shows just how entwined our destinies are. Nosferatu and Nosferatin.

To Michel there can be no stronger evidence that the
Iunctio
should be for
both
of our kind. And now he was in a position to do something about that. He was
the Champion
. This was important. He needed to return to Paris, to be where the
Iunctio
is based. And as it was such a precarious time, I understood that I could not.