And when that fog broke? What sight would greet her as she peered up at the sky? She called to mind the horrific image of a plummeting Vrekener. She imagined the rush of air from angry wings.
Win-win? She would look up and be met with either terror-or beauty.
Even with the vampire here, this would be a trial by fire.
Daciano eased closer to her, again muddling her mind with his mouthwatering scent. At her ear, he murmured, "Bett, I've dealt death in forests all over the Lore. Whenever I'm about to strike, animals, and even insects, go quiet. Listen."
She heard a cacophony of familiar sounds. Unperturbed owls, happily squeaking bats, the steady buzz of insects.
"You see so much," he said. "Now listen to these creatures and be assured: no predators await."
Everything out here was going on with business as usual. Everything but silly Bettina, standing frozen, too afraid to walk twenty-five feet while the impassive world marched on.
Screw-this.
As if he'd sensed her capitulation, Daciano wrapped his hand around hers and escorted her to the folly stairs. "I'll meet you out there."
Am I really going to do this? Sober?
He seemed to think so. Apparently, so did some part of her she scarcely recognized.
With Daciano holding her hand, she descended the first stair.
And the second.
After a deep breath, she conquered the final one-but she curled her fingers to keep hold of his until the last moment. . . .
Chapter 36
Just as her boot met the spongy ground, she lost that contact with the vampire and faltered, gazing back over her shoulder.
But pride lit Daciano's masculine face, his green eyes aglow with it, his chest bowed.
Great. Now I have to do this thing, if only for more of that addictive look.
The glade lay ahead. She swallowed. How had she not noticed that the trunks and roots of those trees were so monstrous, that the fog was so creepy?
But the sounds were still raucous. Seize it!
The twenty-five feet were the longest of her life. Her thoughts raced, keeping pace with her frantic heartbeat: Before the rain comes the clear. Terror or beauty? Daciano is nearby. He'll annihilate any Vrekeners. Nice picnic, nice picnic. Vrekener torture.
And then . . . she was in the glade, shoulders hunched-but still there.
"I-I made it," she tentatively called, half disbelieving. "Out to the middle."
"And so you did, love," he called back. He couldn't possibly sound prouder.
Within seconds, a break opened in the fog bank, just as she'd known it would. A downdraft of warm air dissipated the mist, as if in the eye of a hurricane. She was in the middle of a tunnel of clear.
She swallowed. Terror or beauty? With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her face.
Bettina didn't find attackers; she saw . . . a scene from dreams.
"Vampire, you're going to want to see-"
He was already at her side.
Above them, the nearly full moon was a silvery coin. Fireflies as big as Bettina's hand hovered in the sky, glowing gold, leaving tracers of light. Fluorescent crimson petals spun in the gentle vortex, twinkling red lights. Glossy leaves swirled down leisurely, moonlight striking their surface. . . .
I made it here, and I was rewarded. What other rewards had she missed out on?
She felt something shifting inside her chest.
Was she ready to traipse around town by herself? Not quite. Was she healed from her fear? Uh-uh. But right now, she felt none.
And she knew she'd turned the corner toward recovering.
Daciano didn't say anything for long moments, just seemed to marvel at the sight above them. Never looking down, he reached for her hand again, clasping it in his. "You're lifting a film from my eyes, Bett. I never want to go back to the way I was before."
She stopped looking at the sky, turning her attention to something just as remarkable-the vampire's face tipped up to the moon.
So handsome she nearly lost her breath.
His eyes were heavy-lidded as he admired the scene, as if he was experiencing bliss.
Dear gods, that's how he looks at me.
Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to stare down at her-and sure enough, his expression didn't change.
Dalit. Again that word entered her consciousness. Lightning. In quaint old Demonish, it also meant the bolt of desire one felt-before falling in love.
Could she leave behind her feelings for Caspion and allow new ones to grow for this gorgeous, patient, brave vampire?
Words tumbled from her lips: "What would you do if I died? If I was . . . murdered?"
His brows drew together. "I don't want to speak of that."
"You said you'd answer any question."
His hand squeezed hers. "Avenge you." He pinned her gaze with his own. "Follow you."
Her lips parted in amazement just as sultry rain began to fall.
Trehan didn't understand her sudden question, only knew that his answer had surprised her.
When she peered up at him, blinking against the drizzling rain, he sensed they were at the precipice of something and didn't dare trace her away. Droplets shimmered over her braids like a sparkling veil, her eyes so luminous.
Her expression looked . . . lost, as if he'd done far more than admit a simple truth.
"Bettina? Why ask that-"
Two soft hands cupped his face, tugging him down. His lips met hers. Now I am lost. . . .
He looped an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his, groaning at the feel of her. Her skin was so warm, so slick beneath his hands. Their breaths mingled, the kiss deepening, rain now pouring; the night mirrored the intensity of what burned between them.
When he lifted her up against him, her slim arms closed around his neck, her long legs wrapping around his waist. He traced her to the furs, laying her down.
Between kisses, she said, "Are we about to go up to a point?"
"Almighty gods, we are!"
"Will you make me forget tomorrow?"
He drew back on his haunches. "I intend to. As long as we're here in this place, tomorrow doesn't factor. Just you, me, this storm."
When he only gazed at her, she frowned. "What do you want me to do?"
"Bare yourself. Show me your pretty br**sts as you did that first night." This time, to me. Only to me.
She bit her bottom lip. "You think about that night a lot."
"You don't?"
With a blush, she reached behind her, untying the lace of her top. When she peered up at him for courage, he rasped, "For me?"
She removed the material, revealing perfect pale swells tipped with rosy peaks. He'd seen them before, he'd kissed them before; a groan still burst from his chest.
The corners of her red lips curled. "You . . . like them."
"Like?" He covered one with his palm, giving a gentle squeeze. "Already I'm obsessed with them. I imagine an eternity tending to them and every inch of your ravishing little body." He leaned in to kiss her, promising her, "Soon, Bett," just before his lips met hers. He drank in her sweet gasp.
She met his seeking tongue, lightly swirling the tip of hers against his. He loved the way she kissed-with shy laps of her tongue, welcoming lips, and now a needy moan.
One of his shaking hands cupped the back of her head; his other eased down to unravel the ties of her skirt, pulling it free.
He broke away, but only to admire the gift he was unwrapping. "Loveliness itself," he declared when he saw her in only a scrap of black lace.
Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he tugged her panties down her legs, leaving them around one slim ankle.
The sight of her body stole his breath. Waist so small, skin so sleek. Water drops trailed over taut limbs, delectable curves, and those pert br**sts. The tiny thatch of dark curls on her mound beckoned. . . .
No, he was not a mere observer. As he raised his face to hers, he realized he couldn't be more present, more engaged. Scents washed over him. Warm rain lingered over their heated skin. The beat of their hearts sounded in his ears.
The two of them were a part of this storm, a part of this wild shelter.
And his female was awaiting his next move, studying him with wide, shimmering eyes.
"Do you know what I plan to do to you, Bett?"
She swallowed. "K-kiss my br**sts?"
"Would you like me to?" She nodded eagerly. "Then lie back."
When she reclined across the furs, he moved over her, leaning down to lick moisture from her delicate collarbone down to the curves of her br**sts. Two pouting n**ples taunted him. Which to suckle first?
He groaned as he closed his lips over one, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the other. With his tongue, he flicked fast and hard. With his thumb, he rubbed so slowly.
She arched her back for more. "Ah, Daciano, what are you doing to me?"
Anything I can-up to a point. Hard and fast. Lazily back and forth. Then he switched mouth and hand.
When her head began to thrash, he left two throbbing n**ples in his wake and started kissing down her flat belly.
By the time he reached her navel, she was shaking with need. But she raised herself up on her elbows. "Daciano? Wait."
"Do not stop me, Bett." His voice was a growl. "You know what I want."
"But your fangs?"
"I can control them."
"Are you sure? I-I don't want you to bite me."
"I won't take your blood again. Not until it's given." He stroked his palms up from her knees. "Do you trust me?" he asked her with a wet lick just above her curls.
"I do. I really do."
"Then part your thighs, dragă."
At length, she lay back, gripping the furs in her fists.
Am I to have this prize?
Though a furious blush suffused her skin, she slowly began spreading her knees. His heart twisted in his chest at this show of trust from his Bride.
Gods, yes, he would survive tomorrow!
He would live to know the full power of her desire. He'd live to claim his stunning female, to master her body with his own, to win her eternally-
She bared her succulent sex; his body reacted with an animalistic frenzy, his lusts raging.
His mouth watered for her pink, glistening folds, for the shadowy little dip of her opening. He wanted to fall upon her, devour her. His fangs ached to prick her; he'd suck on her welling flesh. His c*ck surged, desperate to sink into her virgin core.
When he took her luscious scent into him, he felt the beginning tremors in the base of his shaft, seed rising against his will.
About to spill? Before I'm even to kiss?
He somehow restrained himself. In an unrecognizable voice, he repeated what he'd told her the first night he'd found her: "I've had a sample of your taste, dragă mea. Now I feast. . . ."
She peeked her head up, worrying her lip. "Daciano?"
But he'd already lowered his head. When he opened his mouth and pressed it to her sex, she gasped. With his first hungry lick of her heat, he groaned, "A mea! Dulcea mea." Mine! My sweet.
She collapsed back with a moan of delight. "Yes, vampire, yes. . . ."
Her taste was indescribable; her essence was like a current ripping through him-tightening every muscle in his body, enlivening every dancing nerve.
Even as he tongued her with abandon, he somehow kept his fangs in check. Even when he opened his mouth wide to cover her, he didn't graze her tender flesh.
So long I've waited for this. He gazed up to see her reaction. Arms stretched over her head, she arched her back. Her br**sts moved sensuously, her puckered n**ples jutting toward the folly roof.
She's in love with this kiss between us, as much as I am.
Still on his knees, he rubbed his hands up her torso, possessively fondling her damp br**sts, pinning them under his palms. He licked her even harder, dipping his tongue to her opening to gather wetness, then laving her clitoris with it.
My Bride, my prize, my feast.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and rocked to his tongue. "Harder, vampire," she breathed, gone wanton with need. "Deeper."
"Bett!" He couldn't give her what she needed, couldn't penetrate her body in any way. Not with his fingers, his fangs, his cock. Frustration seized him-I want to be so deep in you, f**king you so hard! His h*ps instinctively thrust, but his shaft found no softness to sink into.
"Trehan," she moaned. "Please, I-I need . . ."
With a growl, he surrendered his grip on her br**sts and clutched the backs of her thighs, trapping her knees wide to get deeper with his tongue.
"Oh, my gods, yes!" Her broken cries sounded awed: "Never felt . . . it's so strong . . . you make me feel . . ."
Chapter 37
Her trembling thighs pressed against the sides of his face as her flesh began to quiver. On the very edge, she gripped the back of his head, undulating her h*ps up-as she tugged him down.
Even in the throes, Bettina knew that this secreted place on her body-a place no other male had ever touched-was now his.
He'd claimed it with his tongue, with his lips, with his harsh growls. And she'd surrendered it fully.
Was the vampire rasping words to her between each lick? "Tell me you'll let me . . . do anything to you!"
His fingers tightened on her thighs, urging her to answer.
"I . . . I . . ." She couldn't think. Why wouldn't she let him do anything-if it felt like this? Did he mean sex? Can't think.
Why were those words so important to him?
All she knew for certain was that she needed to dig her nails into his muscular back, to lick his skin, to grind into his kiss-
Ah, gods, his wicked tongue was everywhere. "Oh, vampire, don't stop. . . ."
As she neared her peak, pleasure dancing within reach, her mind could generate no other thought: "Coming!"
An instant later, ecstasy overwhelmed her. Scorching and boundless, it coursed through every inch of her. Back arching, she flung her arms wide-and screamed.
A fierce groan broke from his chest as he bore down on her with his mouth. Though her orgasm ebbed, he licked her even more greedily. Sounding frenzied, he delved right at the entrance to her sex, where her sheath was still spasming. Could he taste her?
Too much! Writhing beneath the iron grip of his hands on her thighs, wriggling from the lashes of his tongue, she pleaded, "Oh, stop!"