He smiled at me and said out loud what I’d been thinking. ‘Indeed – more parlour tricks.’
I turned off the light switch on the wall and basked in the lovely glow of the candles. The soft illumination was the perfect setting for Devereux. His eyes sparkled, his hair was a shining radiance and his skin assumed the hues of the candlelight.
He stepped over to the window and closed the blinds, then circled back around to the door and silently sealed it. Gliding over to me, he gently released my hair from the ponytail and eased the long curls down over my breasts.
‘Your hair is beautiful.’ He nestled his face in it and inhaled the fragrance, then ran his fingers through it. ‘You are beautiful. I had given up hope of ever finding you. And now you are here. Now you are mine.’
‘I’m yours? What does that mean?’
‘It means we belong to each other. We always have. I want to share every part of myself with you, and I want to know every aspect of you. I am so happy you have finally come to me. I have been lost without you.’
I started to question his assumptions, and he silenced me with a kiss.
He reluctantly pulled away and leaned against the wall to balance himself while he removed his boots. He pulled his shirt off over his head in one slow, elegant motion.
Vampire Chippendales.
Even though I’d seen him without his shirt before, the effect in the candlelight was almost overwhelming. The muscles of his shoulders, arms and abdomen were perfectly chiselled, a magnificent work of art in flesh and bone. I started to wonder what the odds were of a human being so exquisitely built, then remembered he wasn’t human. Not even close.
But that didn’t matter. In a very short, intense time period, I’d gone from thinking Devereux was mentally ill – an unfortunate having psychotic delusions about being a vampire – to waiting breathlessly for that very same vampire to fill me with what was already making its presence known inside his tight leather trousers.
I splayed my hands on his chest, relishing the firm warmth of him, and moved close enough to take one of his nipples into my mouth. He moaned and relaxed his head back, embracing me with his strong arms.
I started to unbutton the waistband of his trousers and he covered my hand with his.
‘Wait. We must remove your shirt first.’
Vampire rules? I didn’t ask why. He lifted my hair back behind my shoulders and unbuttoned my pyjama top. Letting the slippery silk fall away, he used his fingers to guide the fabric from my shoulders and down my arms. He bent and slid his face over my breasts, taking one nipple at a time into his mouth with a gentle sucking motion. He cupped both breasts in his hands and laid tiny kisses all over them before using his tongue to harden my nipples to painful, throbbing points.
He straightened, lifted the pentagram necklace and brought it to his lips. He kissed the centre of the circular design then replaced it, all the time gazing into my eyes.
I already ached for him, and couldn’t imagine being able to hold out much longer. My knees were barely functional.
He stepped away and studied me, the expression on his face reflecting the maelstrom of feelings and desires he couldn’t hide.
He caressed my breasts again and said, ‘You are very lush for such a slender woman. In all my eight hundred years, yours are the most magnificent breasts I have ever seen. I shall never tire of touching them, of sucking them.’
I’d say he hasn’t got out much if my breasts are the cream of the crop, but that’s probably not true. I’ll just enjoy the ride.
He demonstrated as I fisted my hands in his hair. After a few delicious seconds, he kissed his way back to my lips.
Sliding his hands into the elastic waistband of my pyjama bottoms, he eased the material down my hips, leaving my white cotton bikini panties in place. He stroked and massaged me, running his hands up my back and down to the mounds of my ass, pulling my lower body tight against his hard, thick erection.
My fingers found their way back to the button on the waistband of his trousers and successfully opened it. The zipper slid down easily and I quickly discovered that Devereux was an au naturel kind of guy.
That realisation was outrageously arousing for me, and I enthusiastically shimmied his trousers down his hips, releasing the unexpectedly large organ jutting out from a thatch of blond curls.
I had a momentary thought about the myth that a man’s feet or hands are correlated with the size of his penis. In Devereux’s case, his normal-sized artistic hands and average-looking feet gave no indication of what had been sequestered away behind that zipper.
I sank to my knees, still pulling down the leather trousers, and gently nudged him to sit on the edge of the bed. I raised my mouth to his, ran my tongue along his lips, then kissed him while one hand stroked his warm, hard length. He moved rhythmically against my hand, moaning softly. I slid my finger up to the drops of liquid oozing from the opening, then stroked him again.
We used our tongues to taste and explore each other. I felt his fangs extend as I carefully avoided their needle-sharp tips. Running my tongue up and down the length of his fangs seemed to have the same effect as my hand on his erection.
I pulled away from his lips and kissed my way down his chest and his stomach until I reached his hard length and took it in my mouth. His skin was velvety soft over the taut muscle.
He gasped and held my head between his hands, moving gently to show me what he liked. I used my lips and tongue to taste every part of him, to drive him mad with desire. I was a quick study apparently, and he soon cried out and lifted my head from his groin.
‘If you continue to do that I cannot hold back, and I wish for us to share our first orgasm together while I am inside you.’
Aching with desire, I was more than ready for him. He lifted me up onto the bed as I kicked off the last clothing barrier between us.
Both completely naked now, we knelt on the bed, faced each other, and built the anticipation.
His body was magnificent, long, lean and muscular, with smooth skin and perfect features. The light-blond hair that trailed down his abdomen to his crotch was soft and slightly darker than his long platinum mane. Rising out of that silk was an erection that belonged on a statue of a Greek god. Or a Celtic god. A Druid god? I still wasn’t sure which part of Europe Devereux came from originally.
We reached for each other at the same time and I palmed his buttocks, exploring the firm muscles there as I pulled him tightly against me.
We embraced and kissed passionately, taking the joining of our lips deeper and deeper until it felt as if we were one being – merged.
He spoke that strange, musical language in my mind, a soft melody of words and spaces. Even though I didn’t understand what he was saying, the sounds felt right, as if my body remembered them in some mysterious way.
He gently turned me and guided me down onto the bed, bringing his mouth to my nipples again while his finger slid into the wet heat between my legs.
‘I love that you are so wet for me,’ he whispered in my mind. ‘You make me feel alive.’
Using one fingertip in a featherlight movement, he caressed my clitoris, making little circular motions that caused me to arch my body and spread my legs wider, before he moved that clever finger up inside me. Then he added a second finger while still stroking me with his thumb. A wave of something powerful built within me and I made primal noises, instinctively moving my hips in time with the rhythm of his fingers.
I moaned and fisted my hands in his hair, lifting his head. ‘Devereux, please – I want you inside me.’
He raised his mouth from my nipple, brought his lips near mine and whispered, ‘Inside your body and your heart.’
Eagerly, I reached down and guided his thickness into my opening, wrapping my legs around his waist at the same time to take him deeper.