6. Finally Alone
Chapter 6
Finally Alone
Rancho Bautista del Murciélago—Three hours before dawn
S tunning. Simply stunning. Henry stood at the doorway to Cerissa’s bedroom, watching her from the side as she brushed her long, wavy hair. Light through the open curtains reflected off the silky strands, the full moon cloaking her like a night goddess.
Minutes ago, he’d shucked his tuxedo, tossing everything into the bag for the dry cleaner except for the cuff links and studs, taken a fast shower, then donned his favorite red brocade robe and whooshed from his room to hers, aching to be alone with her.
His bride. His wife.
Finally.
As eager as he felt, he couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t move his feet to claim her, couldn’t shake the spell cast by the only woman who’d ever bewitched his heart.
The white satin nightgown she wore hugged her curves. Touches of blue embroidered appliques lined the plunging V-neck, the silky fabric caressing her enticing breasts in profile, flowing from her pert nipples, and the high empire waist emphasized them. A sheer peignoir tied with a small bow at her throat completed the ensemble.
She must have sensed him. As she turned to the doorway, a slit on the side of the long skirt flashed her naked leg, and his pene kicked. “Quique.”
“ Querida .” He finally broke from the enchantment and strode to her. Taking her hand, he gently loosened her fingers from the brush handle and placed it on the dresser. Then, gripping her wrists, he spread her arms wide so he could enjoy the full-frontal view of her gorgeous, satin-clad body. “You look maravilloso .”
He wrapped her in his arms and angled his mouth over hers. Whenever their lips met, the sizzle was like a drug entering his veins—a drug he could never imbibe enough of, a drug he’d return to again and again, a drug he’d do anything to get.
She opened with a moan, inviting him in, and his tongue sought hers, tangling in a soft duel until she broke the kiss, panting for air.
Sighing, he swept her up, a hand under her knees, an arm braced against her back. He strode out the doorway and carried her downstairs.
She wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on tightly. “Henry! Where are we going? You’re headed in the wrong direction.”
He hadn’t missed that she’d already turned back the covers on her bed. But for their first wedded night, he’d have her in his. “You’ve married a monster, you know.”
“I’m so scared.” The sarcasm was thick in her voice. “Now, where—”
“The consummation of our marriage will be in my crypt. It’s tradition.”
She laughed, a big guffaw. “But you don’t like me sleeping there.”
Yes, he’d resisted, concerned she might disturb his sleep and he might react and hurt her inadvertently. “Who said anything about sleep?”
That elicited another startled laugh from her. “You have this all planned out, don’t you?”
“Did you expect anything less?” He strode through the kitchen, stooped to grip the door handle to open the basement door, then carried her downstairs to where he slept during the day. They had at least three hours until dawn, and he intended to use all of them.
Soft light illuminated the crypt he’d prepared. The room was too small to trust actual flames, so battery-operated candles glowed in their place. She gasped when the interior came into view.
He’d hired a contractor to convert two crypts into one by removing the dividing wall and adding an overhead beam to support the weight of the floor above. The contractor had also installed heater vents for her comfort. A king-sized bed now filled the room, replacing the one-person cot he normally slept on. Antique tapestries featuring romantic scenes hung on three walls. On the first, nymphs played in a glade by a waterfall. Covering the second, two lovers entwined in a position from the Kamasutra, and the third, a postcoital embrace, with the lovers’ faces lit in adulation. The tapestries evoked the message of love and sex and turned the once-sterile space into a sensuous one.
She clasped a hand to her mouth. “How have I missed all this work being done?”
His lips quirked up. “You have a very devious husband.” He kissed her cheek. “I arranged for the contractor to remove the wall on days when you were at the office and the moon set late, so I was awake to supervise.”
“Devious indeed.”
Rose petals forming a heart lay on the white comforter. He tossed her into the middle, sending the red petals flying, then dropped his robe from his shoulders, letting it slide off his arms and to the floor.
Naked, he crawled like a feline predator onto the bed, hovering over her, hard and ready, his long hair hanging loose, while hers spread over his pillow, tempting him to grip her luxurious, wavy strands, hold her in place, and move faster than he planned. “How are you feeling?”
“Happy, my husband.”
He watched her emerald eyes as they brightened and the light dawned in them.
“Oh my Goddess, those words.” She cupped his face, locking gazes, caressing his cheeks before plunging her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “We’re married. Married! You’re mine. Forever.”
“And you are mine.” He kissed one side of her neck, and then the other, feeling her hot pulse pounding beneath his lips. “Cerissa…there is one thing I should mention. It’s traditional to do a blood exchange on the first night. But I know it’s been a long day. If you’re too tired to morph—”
“Mr. Patel-Vasquez, I am anything but tired.” She smirked at him. “In fact, I think it’s you who’ll have to keep up with me tonight.”
His eyes stung as his pupils expanded. “Challenge accepted.”
He pulled the tie at her throat—the one holding the peignoir closed—and helped her out of the sheer robe, then handed her the jet injector kit he’d absconded with from her bathroom at the start of the evening. Once she morphed, she needed the stabilizer to hold vampire form.
She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Prepared for everything, aren’t you?”
“They didn’t have Boy Scouts when I was young.” He stroked her arms, unable to resist the bare skin. “But if they had, I’m sure I’d have qualified for Eagle Scout.”
She snorted a laugh. “They would have kicked you out for corrupting Girl Scouts.”
“There’s only one Girl Scout I want to corrupt, and that is you, my wife. Now, no more teasing.” He lightly kissed her. “Time to transform.”
The minute she became vampire, the scent of her blood changed, an enticing brew that called to him, like switching from sipping a soft, flavorful Merlot to suddenly drinking a Cabernet Sauvignon, with its bolder, more robust flavor.
After unzipping the case, she dialed in the medication and applied the jet injector to her neck, released a muted hiss , then placed the kit aside. “Ready when you are.”
“Relax.” He gently pressed his palm against her breastbone until her head rested on the pillow, then plucked the straps that held up her sleeveless nightgown, lowering both over her shoulders, baring her breasts. Taking in a deep breath, he watched her nipples pearl as the silky fabric slid away. Deliciosa . Then he pulled the straps lower and freed her arms. “Lift your hips.” He snaked the satiny material completely off her, basking in the joy of unwrapping his present, only to glimpse a bit more wrapping—white lace panties. He’d wait to remove those. “I’ve already explored every inch of your body, and yet it feels like our first time.”
Under his gaze, a light blush ran from her face to her tight nipples.
After their week apart, he longed to take his time. Explore her thoroughly. Find any millimeter, any tiny touch or shiver he may have missed during previous explorations.
“Roll over.”
Her lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “Yes, sir.”
He started with his hands on her back, caressing, curving his fingers around every strong muscle, every soft portion of her body, every inch of her silky skin. As he kissed a trail down her spine, her deep inhale and the sudden ripple of gooseflesh fed the possessiveness clawing at his chest.
And they were only just beginning.
“Have I ever counted all the things I love about you?” He returned to her neck, licking along the way. “I love how kind and caring you are.” He planted a kiss below her ear. “I love how smart you are.” He sucked on her earlobe, and she moaned. “I love how sexy, sensuous, and stunning you are.”
Her skin warmed under his compliments. He continued his kisses, then hooked the elastic of her lacy panties, tugged them down, and nipped at her beautiful brown bottom.
She jumped a little in response.
“Just a love bite.”
“I’d think so.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You won’t get much blood there.”
He laughed. A few sharp spanks would bring plenty of blood to the surface. But that wasn’t the plan for tonight. “Never fear. I know just where to bite—later.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
She smiled. “Should I be afraid?”
“Always.” He progressed his way down her legs, tonguing the back of her knee.
She let out a long breath, trembling slightly, and laid her head back on the pillow.
He continued his kisses, speaking between each one. “I love the way you touch me, the way you’ve thrown yourself into finding all the ways we can make love.” Another kiss. “I love everything about you, querida .”
Even though she was ticklish, he couldn’t resist kissing the bottoms of her feet when he reached them, watching her toes curl.
Gently, he rolled her onto her back, then stripped her panties down her thighs and off her, tossing them aside. He’d retrieve them later for his treasure chest of memories. He sat back on his heels as he took in her naked beauty and happiness over his good fortune warmed him. Married to the love of his life. Married . It still felt like an unattainable fantasy.
He kissed from her henna-tattooed toes to her breasts, where he took time to suck and lick each nipple until she writhed underneath him with unmet need. Then he rose to her neck, where he again nibbled on her skin without breaking it, sucking on the sensitive flesh where her neck met her shoulder, and the scent of her blood enticed him.
She groaned. “You’re torturing me.”
“Perhaps.” Finding her lips, he delved his tongue within, tasting the sweet succulence of her mouth, his passion matching hers, his hands rising to fondle her nipples. When their kiss broke, he sat back between her legs, and, raising her knees to open her to him, he bent to lick from vulva to clit, swirling his tongue around the firm nub, gently scraping his teeth over the pert nerve bundle and sucking.
Her moans encouraged him to lick more fiercely, and he tilted his head to gaze over her bare mound. Her eyelids were closed, lips parted, and she writhed underneath his tongue. “Come for me, querida ,” he murmured against the sensitive skin, and she let out an explosive gasp, arching her back.
He didn’t stop licking. He kept going as she thrust harder against his mouth, feeling every last spasm rack through her until her hips finally settled.
“That was wonderful, Quique.”
And it was only the beginning.
He crawled along her front and, bracing on his forearms, brushed her hair out of her eyes. After a few minutes, her breathing slowed, and he watched the hazy, ecstatic look fade from her face, and her focus return. His pene ached for release. “Are you familiar with the Milk and Water Embrace from the Kama Sutra ?”
She smiled lazily. “There are over sixty positions. I don’t know them all by name.”
“Well, I was seeking a less awkward way for us to bite at the same time.” One thing he’d discovered early on—they could exchange bites during oral, and while biting her clit as she plunged her fangs in his pene could be kinky fun, for tonight, he wanted to be inside her when they tasted each other’s blood. “I believe the Milk and Water Embrace is the best position for our purposes.”
Her pupils expanded, the black nearly swallowing her irises. “Show me.”
“Sit up.”
She moved to the side, sitting cross-legged.
He piled pillows against the headboard and took her place on the bed. With his back supported, he straightened his legs together, extending them and jutting his pene into the air.
She eyed him hungrily, the same way she had eyed the chocolate lava cake he’d baked in the past. “You look so tempting.”
He gripped the base of his pene . “Then have a seat.”
Grinning, she crawled to him.
“Turn around.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll see.”
She pivoted, presenting her gorgeous bottom and bending to straddle his legs in reverse. He grabbed her hips, and her hands landed atop his thighs as she faced away from him. He pulled her down, spearing her on his rock-hard pene . Her firm cheeks nestled on his stomach; her back pressed against his chest. He moaned with the pleasure of being squeezed by her tight sheath.
“Henry!”
“Yes, mi amor ?”
“You put a mirror on the wall.”
It sounded like she was accusing him of nefarious wrongdoing, and he laughed.
For the crypt’s fourth wall, he’d skipped a tapestry and instead installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror. He’d thought the idea inspired, particularly when he decided on trying a position where they wouldn’t face each other. This way, he could watch her, and she him.
He looked at their naked reflection, and the pupils of his eyes expanded fully with desire as he captured her gaze in the mirror. “You are so beautiful, querida . Do you like it?”
A blush heated her cheeks. “You know I do.”
He held her firmly in place, wrapping one hand around to finger her clit, the other squeezing a nipple until the rosy brown tip budded. He alternated, playing first with one, and then the other, while he kissed and nipped at her shoulder.
“Oh, Henry,” she sighed, her eyelashes fluttering.
The long, thick lashes finally came to rest, dark as the sky on a moonless night, and her pussy contracted around him.
The mere sight of her in the mirror almost had him coming. But the way she squeezed…
“Henry. Henry, I want…”
“What? What do you want, wife ?” Even he could hear the possession in his voice.
Her eyes shot open, and a breath left her in a rush. “I want more. I want to move.” Her hands tightened on his thighs as she met his gaze in the mirror. “Husband.”
His pene grew harder at her words, impossible as that seemed. “Then move. I’ll support you.”
Leaning forward slightly, she did. “Oh my Goddess.”
He continued to rub her clit and moved the hand caressing her breast to her hip, to help her as she squeezed her butt and thigh muscles to rise before descending in a rush.
The way her tight channel enclosed his shaft drove him mad with desire.
She panted, her eyelids drifting shut again.
“Open your eyes. Watch us,” he coaxed.
She did, the emerald color shining in them.
When the quiver around his pene signaled she was close to coming, he released her hip to offer his wrist. “When I say to, bite.”
She gripped his arm, freezing her movements with him deep inside her, and nodded.
“Now.” He bit her neck as she sank fangs into his wrist, and he forced himself to keep his gaze on the mirror.
Her eyes rolled up, and she moaned, vibrating against his skin.
The fang serum zinged through him, and he liberated his fangs from her neck so she could rise and fall, pumping on top of him again as he strummed her clit.
She screamed her orgasm, which ignited the fire at the base of his spine, his balls tightening, and his pene slammed into her as he filled her, pulse after ecstatic pulse.
When she went limp in his arms, he wrapped them around her tightly to keep her upright, rubbing his face in the slick sweat gathered on her back and listening to the rush of air swirl in her lungs. As her panting slowed, he peeped over her shoulder and saw their reflections entwined. Her eyelids opened, her lush mouth gaping.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy filled him. “I love you, Cerissa.”
“And I you, Henry. And I you.”