Seized by the Vampire Lord (Dark Lords) (10 page)

When he reached the plain that lay outside his castle gates, he saw that it had been sacked.  Such rage filled him, that he threw caution to the wind and charged upon the castle.  His enemies had not expected to be fallen upon from behind, and he and his men slew them, regaining the keep.

The fight had not cooled his anger, however, and he rushed up the castle stairs to find his faithless wife.  When he burst into her chambers, he found her lying beneath a window, a stray arrow in her chest.  In that moment, he hated her as much as he had once loved her.  She had betrayed him and died swiftly, escaping his wrath.  As he turned away, he heard her gasp his name.

Turning once more, he discovered that she was not dead as he had thought.  She reached for him. ‘Daegon, my love.  You have come back to me.’

He had stared at her coldly.  ‘With your dying breath, you lie to me, you faithless harlot?  You betrayed me.  You opened my castle to my enemies so that my people were slaughtered.’

She began to weep.  ‘Nay, my lord.  I would not.  How could you think such a thing of me?  I love you with all of my heart.’

He had looked upon her with contempt.  ‘I have seen it in my visions.  I know you are lying.  It was the visions that guided me here.  It was the visions that thwarted your plans, for I have come and fallen upon my enemies and slaughtered them, and taken back that which is mine.’

She had stared at him piteously, begging him with her eyes to believe in her.  Almost, he had succumbed to that pleading look, and it had sickened him that he still loved her despite what she had done to him.  Instead of going to her, he had turned away and strode from the room.

But as he reached the door, she called out to him once more.  ‘Someone has poisoned your mind.  You could not love me or you would
never
believe that I could do such a thing.  With my dying breath, I curse you, and pray god will grant me this.  That you will remain forever as you are today.  Never again will you feel the joy of life, the joy of love.  If you cannot trust, then you cannot be trusted, and you do not deserve the love of a woman.’

Cerise sat the book aside, horrified by what she had read.  His wife had cursed him.  She understood now why Daegon trusted no one.  It was true that the sorcerer had blinded him to what he must have known, but the woman who had cursed him could not have truly loved him.  If she had, she would have forgiven him, not cursed him to a life of unhappiness.

Cerise set the book aside.  She didn’t want to read any more.  She felt like weeping for his pain, but she knew that would not give him ease.  There was only one thing that could—unconditional love.  The more she thought about it as the days passed, the more certain she became that she had to find a way to go back to him.

She loved him.  She knew that he must love her too.  Perhaps, if she could go to him, in time she could teach him to trust.  Perhaps that was his only salvation.

For days she paced the tower, trying to think of a way to escape.  The servants could not be convinced—she had spent days attempting it.  Finally, she realized that she had succeeded in doing nothing but alerting her father to the fact that she was determined to return.  As difficult as it was, she settled back to bide her time.

Weeks passed, but Cerise did not spend them idly.  Her nimble mind was busy devising a means of escape.  When she saw that enough time had passed and the servants no longer looked upon her with suspicion, she put her plan in motion.

Stripping the linens from the bed one night, she began to tear them in thin strips, braiding the strips together frantically, for she knew she must make her rope before dawn.

Adriana was aghast, of course.  Cerise thought, for a time, that she would be forced to bind and gag her sister.  Finally, however, she told her sister Daegon’s tale, and as she had hoped, it appealed to Adriana’s soft heart.  Adriana stripped the rest of the linens from the bed and began helping her to weave her rope.

The morning lark was singing when at last they finished the rope and tied it to the bed.  Cerise tossed the free end out the window and stared down at the darkness, unnerved now that the moment had come.

After staring in terror at the rope for some moments, she turned to her sister and hugged her tightly.  “Tell father I love him, and I’m terribly sorry to be such a disobedient daughter, but I love Daegon.  I cannot bear not to be without him.”

After looking at the rope for several minutes, she bent down and took hold of her skirts in the back, bringing it up between her legs and tucking it into her sash so that it would not hinder her climbing.  Seizing her courage, she grabbed the make-shift rope and began lowering herself from the window.

Closing her eyes against the pain, she began muttering her mantra, “I can do this.  I love Daegon.  I can do this for Daegon.”

She was almost halfway down when she realized that as much as she loved Daegon, she was not going to make it to the bottom unless one considered the possibility of dropping like a stone.  She paused, gasping, her hands burning like fire.  They were going to find her broken body at the bottom of the tower.

“Cerise,” Adriana whispered loudly, “are you down yet?”

Cerise looked up at her sister’s face in the window and felt dizziness assail her.  “Soon,” she whispered.

“In about two seconds,” she muttered, realizing there was no way she could hold on with one hand and lower herself.  Fortunately, it was dark at the bottom.  She had no idea how far she was going to fall.

“Daegon,” she whispered, “I love you with all my heart.”

She let go.  She felt herself falling and falling.  The jolt startled her.  There was surprisingly little pain.  She opened her eyes.  “Daegon?”

He was smiling at her.  “You are mad, my love.”

She smiled.  “It really is you.  You came for me!”

Slowly, they floated to the ground.  “Aye, love,” he said, “I came because I love you with all my heart too.”

Epilogue

“You terrorized my father, Daegon,” Cerise chided as Daegon kicked in the door to their bedroom and swept inside, depositing her on the bed.

“He’s my father now too,” Daegon said, grinning, coming onto the bed and stalking her across the mattress on his knees.

Cerise giggled and said, “He didn’t really want us to get married.”

“He didn’t really want the alternative, either,” he said huskily and came down on top of her, rolling them onto their sides so he could access her lacings.

“I feel sure your charm would have swayed him more easily.”

He grunted as he pulled at her lacings, then pushed her onto her back and ripped the front of her gown.  She moaned in excitement at his aggression.

“Daegon,” she said, breathless as he struggled with the tiny fastenings of her corset, “you are going to have to stop ripping my gowns.  I like it far too much.”

“Aye, my love, I know you do,” he said, raking a heated gaze over the tops of her breasts.

Finally, he worked the corset free and flung it across the room.  Cerise was breathless with excitement.  “Never wear this torturous garment again.”

“It is not so bad as that.  I’m quite used to it.”

“I’m not,” he growled, descending for a kiss.

His lips covered hers, and she parted them immediately, thrilling at the hot, shocking glide of his tongue in her mouth.  He kissed her greedily, his tongue mating with hers as he pulled at his shirt with one hand.  He broke away from her with a frustrated groan, sitting on his knees as he dragged his shirt over his head.

“I see you do not rip your own garments,” Cerise said wryly, marveling at the power and strength exuding from him.  “Hold a moment,” she said when he would have come down on her.  “I want to see you.”

“Anything you wish, my love.”  His eyes gleamed as he got off the bed, bent, and removed his boots and breeches.

Cerise’s heart skipped a beat to see him so.  His chest was covered with hair, but it couldn’t hide the sculpted muscles that rippled down his belly to his groin.  His legs were powerfully built, sprinkled with hair, and shaped in a way that had her blood pounding and her fingers aching to touch him.  But his manhood….  She went weak looking upon it.  His shaft stood proudly, thick and engorged, the veins straining with the potent beat of his blood.   The head was shaped like a helmet of yore, with a tiny, clear bead of moisture on its tip.  Her muscles quivered and moistened with the craving to feel it inside her.  She’d waited so long, forever it seemed.

“Enough,” he said, his voice hoarse as he came upon the bed, “I can wait to taste you no longer.”

He bent and ripped her shift from her body.  Cerise gasped, partly in outrage, but mostly in desire.  “Daegon,” she moaned as he crushed his naked length against her.  “I could have removed that easily.”

“Then you should have,” he growled, kissing her.  His tongue thrust inside her mouth, sweeping through her crevices with savoring slowness.

Cerise moaned into his mouth, stealing his breath and taste, suckling him as though she would die if she could not taste him.  He groaned and pushed a knee between her thighs, rubbing intimately against her mound.

She arched, gasping as he broke from her mouth to drag his lips down her throat.

“Daegon,” she breathed, her senses rioting, “do not tease me so.  I cannot stand it.”

“You will take all I have to give you this night, my love,” he said hot against her breast, dragging his teeth over the already engorged tip.

She cried out as his heat closed over her nipple and sucked, hard.  Fire raced through her veins, spiraling out of control.  Her womb convulsed on a sharp spasm of desire.  He tugged her nipple, rubbing his tongue rough against it, taking her deep into his mouth.  He massaged her other breast, piquing it for the touch of his silky lips.

Daegon freed her from the ache of his mouth, closing on her other peak, drawing her nipple into a hard bud that shot flames of desire through her nerves.  He suckled her as if drawing nourishment from her body, as if he could not taste enough of her.

A hand pushed down her ribcage and flattened on her belly, smoothing down to cup her sex.  She moaned, arching up to meet him, digging her hands in the bed covers.  She was panting with the exertion of control, the heated torment.  She thought he would melt her, soak her into himself.

Two fingers sought her clit, rubbing the cream against her achy nub.  He pulled his fingers free and rubbed them over one nipple.  Cerise’s desire soared to smell her own arousal, to see the dark heat in his eyes as he caught the scent.

She shuddered as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her essence from them.

“Your honey drives me mad for want of you.  I starve for the taste of your sweetness,” he said, his voice thick and rough with desire.

Her vagina clenched on a pulse of pleasure at his words.  She lowered her lids, looking at him with passion shuttered eyes.  He watched her as he bent and flicked his tongue over her coated nipple.

Cerise closed her eyes and arched to him, unable to stand how much she wanted him.  “Daegon.”  Her voice trembled with the intense arousal shooting through her body.  She didn’t know how much longer she could go on without feeling him inside her.

He moved between her legs as if commanded.  His hair-sprinkled thighs abraded hers as he lifted her hips onto his knees.  Her lips spread as her thighs widened around him.  She was exposed and oh so wonderfully vulnerable to him.

He rested his hands on her hips, holding her down as he lifted on his knees and rocked against her heated cleft.  His satiny shaft glided through her wet folds, increasing the agony seizing her womb.

“Daegon,” she cried, trembling, tossing her head to each side.  “You punish my love with torment.”

“Nay, my sweet,” he groaned, nudging his shaft head to her entrance.  “I … don’t … want … to hurt … you.”  He groaned in agony as he pushed inside her core.

Cerise felt her tender muscles quiver at his entrance, gasp and clutch his engorged shaft.  She was pinned in place, unable to move her hips as she wanted—needed.

“You … are … so … tight,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper that shuddered through her.

“Please, hurt me.  End it now.  I will go mad,” she cried, tightening her thighs against him.

A hoarse, guttural cry erupted from his throat as he plunged inside her, ripping past the seal of her body.  Cerise screamed as he sank to the hilt inside her, filling her to the limits of endurance.

He sat still for long moments, until the ragged clutch of her vagina eased as it became accustomed to his thickness.  Cerise burned where he touched her, agony a ripple that seeped into her muscles.  Tears wet her cheeks, but she needed more.

“Do not stop, my love,” she whispered brokenly, reaching for him.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he murmured, shifting until he could lay against her, meld his body to her own, their bodies joined together in a place of burning pleasure and pain.

Cerise wrapped her arms around him, clutching him against her, reveling in the feel of his rough chest rubbing her swollen breasts, his hard muscled arms tight against her ribs as he lifted onto his elbows.

Daegon withdrew his shaft, slowly, not missing how she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain.  His cock was in agony to feel her hurt spasms, the tears drying on her face.  He kissed her closed lids, pulling with small movements that had his shaft twitching with need.