Dancing Dragon (8 page)

Payback is a bitch, didn't you say?
I received a low growl at that thought. Hey! How come you're hearing my thoughts, I whispered in my mind as a test.

“I have no idea, but I am so thankful for it,” he replied between sucking on my bottom lip and slipping a tongue back down my throat.

Then his hands pushed the dress up on either side of my hips, his own hips spreading my legs wide and then without further preparation, he thrust gently deep inside me, both of us crying out at the sensations that movement caused. He stilled, sheathed deep inside my core and waited for us both to catch our breath and get accustomed to the feel of him so deep, so hard, filling me up and then slowly he began to withdraw, right to the tip, then sinking back in again to the hilt in a sensual roll of his hips.

Oh dear God, but I had missed this.

“Never again,” he whispered against me. “You are mine,
ma douce
. You belong with me.”

The thought came unbidden to my mind, I couldn't stop it, as delightful and all-consuming as this moment was, I had been hurt by Michel and my mind was not capable of forgetting that as quickly as my heart.
Then why did you leave me?

He moaned in pain against my throat, but continued his movements inside me, his kissing of the sensitive skin at the base of my neck and didn't answer in my head or otherwise. I cursed myself for showing weakness, but longed for an explanation anyway. It wasn't forthcoming. Instead he put all of his energy into making me forget any coherent thought at all and pushed me to the very edge of sanity, teasing, enticing, sending delicious sensations throughout my body and then denying me release again and again and again.

Eventually he let us roll over, so he was beneath me and I was straddled on top. He reached up and pulled the dress over my head, tossing it to the side of the room and then took all of me in with a heated gaze.

“
I need to see you,
ma douce,
” he husked, leaning forward and wrapping his tongue around a bare nipple, placing an arm around the curve of my back and pulling me tight against his chest.

His other hand found my free breast and began fondling and tweaking the neglected nipple there too, his hips rolling beneath me as I rose up and off his erection and then slammed back down, sheathing him in one, only to repeat the motion all over again. He pulled away from my breast and flashed magenta eyes at me and growled in a low and long sound.

“You are incredible,” he whispered, keeping eye contact with me as I rocked up and down on his hard sex. “Utterly incredible.” Then he stilled as my pace quickened, a short, sharp intake of breath, his eyes forced closed as he gave himself over completely to the sensations rocking through to his very core.

Still holding me tightly against his chest, he let my breasts run up and down his skin, sending shockwaves through the tips of my nipples and a groan escaping his lips. He let me take control, to be in charge of this moment. He let me set the pace, despite the fact that I could tell every muscle in his body was tensing to take command. To roll me over on to my back and pound me into oblivion. Or maybe, force me to my knees and take me from behind, as the dominant, not holding back any of the strength I could feel trapped beneath his skin. I played the pictures over and over in my mind of him taking me every which way he could, proving his dominion over my body, taking charge.

I felt when the images tipped the balance of his hard won control. I knew the moment he couldn't contain himself any longer. I wanted him to lose it, I wanted him to give himself over to the base desire to possess me, make me his. It wasn't enough that he had marked me and let me mark him. I wanted all of him tonight, including his hard won and fought for control. It was all mine.

He screamed in frustration and thrust me off him in such a hard and fast movement I thought he might just be throwing me away again, but then he flipped me over onto my stomach and crushed his heavy and hard weight against my back.

“You are mine,” he growled in a barely controlled voice against the skin at the back of my neck. “God damn it, Lucinda, you push me to the very limit and I still want more from you.”

He lifted my hips off the bed with one hand, pushing me forward firmly, but somehow still gently, on my back with his other and nudged my legs apart with his knees. He growled at the sight of me waiting, swollen wet folds, weeping in anticipation and then guided himself inside. Slowly, with way more control than I had expected at this point, so I rocked my hips against him and received a blood curdling growl in response and a fist in my hair holding me still.

“Do you want to know how much of a vampyre I really am, wife?” he asked in a strangely guttural voice.

I shuddered beneath his hard grip and deliciously slow thrust of his sex inside me.

“Well, answer me?” he demanded with a hard thrust from behind.

I swallowed past the natural and instinctive fear his actions and power were making me feel. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? For him to lose control, enough to know that it was OK with me, to be whatever he needed to be. I wanted him to know this. There was never going to be a reason for him to run away again.

“Yes,” I answered, defiantly.

He growled, which became a bit more of a groan as he sped up his movements, his thighs slapping my rear, his hard length reaching the very tip of me, making me stretch and then he leaned forward and picked me up off the bed, wrapping an arm around my waist, his hand coming up to latch on to my breast, almost painfully tight, never stopping his pounding inside me and then his fangs took hold of my shoulder in a firm and definitely possessive grip. This was not a normal fastening for a vampire, no large blood vessels here to feed from, this was more a dominant control move. Holding me still while he took what he wanted. But he hadn't broken skin, in fact, although undoubtedly a possessive pose, it was also laced with tenderness. The fact he hadn't let his fangs draw blood was in complete contrast to the moment. It was hard and fast and he didn't hold back at all. The grip at my shoulder keeping
me completely at his mercy. I couldn't get away, I couldn't shift, I was held completely still by his arm around my midriff and his teeth on my shoulder, his other hand coming up and lacing my hair in his fingers, holding my head back, so my neck was exposed. But, he couldn't bite me there, his teeth were too busy holding me captive, the move however was designed to make me feel exposed, vulnerable. To make me trust, despite the sensations the position provoked.

I wasn't scared. I wasn't frightened. Despite his hold on me, despite the urgency he rocked inside me with. Despite my neck, a part of a vampire's body considered to be their most vulnerable, being bared, I did not feel threatened. I did trust him. Implicitly. This was Michel, my Michel, but never as I had seen him before. But I wanted him to know that was OK. Still, this was not something he had ever shown me and I wondered just what it actually meant.

I heard him say in my head,
I am vampyre and you are mine
.
I briefly wondered
why
he had never shown me this side of himself before, why I wouldn't have known vampires could hold someone they loved in such a way. It was pure dominance, pure control, but threaded with such care. I would have expected the dominant behaviour if I had been an enemy, someone to punish, but I didn't get that feeling from him right now. Not with the tenderness and control he was showing with his fangs. This wasn't a punishment. This was too sexual, too possessive. It wasn't for discipline, but something else.

For my vampyre mate
,
he answered my unasked question in my head.

But I'm not a vampire,
I responded before I could stop myself. 

To me you are and more,
he replied as he thrust one last time deep inside me and I felt his hot release fill me up. He groaned and his teeth unlatched from my shoulder, and then he slumped us both forward on the bed.

Crap, but if that didn't just turn me the hell on.

We lay tangled in each other's bodies for a good few minutes, neither of us able to talk. Michel because he was completely sated and me because I was slightly in shock. I had wanted him to give me everything of himself and that included without a doubt, the vampire inside him. He had done just that, losing control and taking me in a way he had never done before. It was basic and animalistic and went right through to the centre of my soul. It called to me in a way I would not have thought possible. I wanted all of him and now I would never let go.

He started chuckling beside me, having it seems, heard my thoughts. OK, so I wanted him to be able to read my mind again once we had lost that ability too, but I didn't have to like it when he did. He just laughed harder and pulled me close, kissing me softly on the forehead.

“Give me a moment,
ma douce
and I shall show you another side of me if you would like.” This time he threw some images my way in the form of him taking me slowly, gently, with only my satisfaction and release in mind. I squirmed against him as a heat washed through my body.

He held me tightly and continued to play the images through my mind, laboriously showing me where he would touch me, how it would feel, how long he would take and what I would experience with every lick, suck, nibble and thrust. Before I even released what was happening my back arched off the bed, my legs scissored as his fingers found my wet core assisting the images, intensifying the moment and as a hot and urgent orgasm rolled through me, causing me to cry out in surprise and cling to his body as it racked me again and again. His images still playing in my head, showing me his own release at the exact same time as I came from the mental onslaught of his desire and the urgent thrust of his fingers inside me.

Oh bloody hell, I was so lost to this man. Damn him.

“
I love you too,
ma douce,
” he said quietly, as he settled me into the crook of his arm, my head against his chest. Then he added, before I had a chance to think a thought in response, “I am so sorry.”

The silence hung between us like a brick wall. It could so easily have been left standing there, blocking the bridge we had just rebuilt. But I was done ignoring things, letting things slide, he was mine and I would never let him forget it again. I smashed the wall down and hugged him close, kissing the curve of his neck by his Adam's apple. He growled in appreciation and started stroking my side.

“What's been happening, Michel?” I asked without apology. He must have known I would ask that question sooner or later.

He didn't stiffen at the question as I thought he would, he just lowered his head and kissed my forehead again. When he did speak, it was so low and soft, I had to strain to hear every word.

“I ran.” He let a little breath of air out at that admission. “I have never had to question the loyalty of my line before. Never. To a vampyre their kin are the most precious of their assets, their possessions. We strive hard to accumulate strong and resourceful, loyal subjects around us. My line, I had thought, was infallible. Indestructible. I treat them with respect, certain freedoms, I give them challenges and reward success, but I am also quick to punish mistakes. If they do not respect me for my leniency, then they should fear me for my retaliation. I am vampyre. We are vampyre. It is what we are.”

His hand was still stroking down my side, the curve of my waist, over my hip and then back up to my breast. The path a slow, smooth glide of his fingers, warm but whisper quiet, like a butterfly dancing on my skin. I don't think he realised the effect it was having on me, he was too wrapped up in what he was saying, but I had to force the growing arousal aside and concentrate on his words. He was opening up, exactly what I wanted, I shouldn't be thinking of jumping his bones.

He said he had run, from what? His line or me? And he had questioned their loyalty, or is that our loyalty? Why?

“Because of Erika,” he answered my musings, no doubt also hearing my thoughts on jumping his bones, not that that had stopped his sensual stroking of my side.

Erika. We all mourned the death of Erika, but I hadn't once stopped to think what her disloyalty to Michel would have cost him. Michel had seemed to take it in his stride, upset, but had hidden his true reaction deep. I guess I now knew otherwise.

“You started questioning the rest of us, because of Erika?” I asked to clarify.

He sighed. “She was special,
ma douce
. I allowed her certain freedoms I did not the others. I had thought her more than just a member of my line, she was family, as was Bruno.” Whereas Bruno had died protecting Michel, Erika had died because she had sold Michel out. “I moved her into your home, to protect you. I endangered you, because I trusted her loyalty. I made a mistake and it could have cost you your life.”

Okay, so I understood that, he would have been cutting himself up for misjudging her, but we're not all Erika. I'm not Erika. Why did he have to move out and in the process crush my fragile heart.

His arms tightened around me and he groaned. “Oh,
ma douce
, I feel how much pain you have been in, I cannot apologise to you more. The longer I thought about Erika's betrayal, the more I saw that members of my line were taking liberties with my generosity. I began to doubt more and more of my vampires and eventually that doubt spilled over to you. I couldn't read your thoughts anymore and for some stupid reason, I associated that with your betrayal.”

Stupid was right.

He went on having heard that thought, because I threw it at him with force.

“
Trust,
ma douce
. It is based on shared experiences, time and respect. We get in a car and drive it down the road and trust that the car coming towards us stays on their side of the line. We get in a plane and trust the pilot isn't having a bad day and fails to check something on his pre-flight list, causing us to plummet to the ground.” His voice softened as he whispered his lips across my cheek. “We give our hearts to our kindred and trust they will hold it dear and not crush us in a fit of madness. We don't know how precious trust is until it is lost.”

His lips found mine and hungrily devoured me, his tongue possessively sweeping inside, as though at any moment I would deny him that contact. He was taking the last opportunity to taste before it was stolen away.

“Can you forgive me?” he whispered, hot breath against my skin. “Please.” His body shifted, the firm, hard length of his recent arousal nudging at my side.

God damn, but if he didn't use everything in his arsenal to persuade. I felt his lips spread into a smile against my neck, his tongue lap out and lavish a wet, hot streak above my pulse point. “Please,” he begged again, shifting his body to cover mine. “Please,” he said again, his legs pushing mine apart, his erection pressed firmly onto my stomach. His lips lavishing kisses across my throat, down my chest, around my nipples. “Please,” he murmured, hot breath against a nipple, followed by a suck and small bite and a half stifled groan from the back of his throat. “Oh God, Lucinda, please.” I wasn't sure if he was asking about forgiveness anymore, the tip of his erection was now pressing into my entrance, demanding, seeking, begging for entry.

I moaned and arched up off the bed offering myself up to him again. “Please,” he pleaded as he hovered above my body, refusing to enter unless I accepted his apology. What could I do? I wanted him, I may still feel some of the heartache he had made me suffer these past weeks, but I knew my heart was mending. He was mine and I was his. Nothing was going to change that.

“Yes,” I breathed and as soon as the words left my mouth he thrust slowly forward, burying himself up to the hilt.

This time he did take it slowly, a languid exploration of my body, a slow release of wave after wave of pleasure, all for me, all to bring me so close to the edge then draw it out as long as he could manage. The strain clearly evident in his features, the pulse thundering at the base of his neck, the slight shake to his muscled arms as they held his body over mine. And then finally after bringing me to a shattering orgasm, he allowed himself release, calling out my name.

We snuggled in to each other feeling completely sated, exhausted and whole. Finally my world had righted itself, finally the constant ache in my chest had been replaced by joy. I was tired, but so happy. My Michel was back. I knew he would still have issues, his now deep seated mistrust of his line wouldn't simply vanish overnight, it would take time, but hopefully, he would let me help him. He would lean on me and with my support he could learn to trust again, or at the very least, be strong enough to do whatever it is that vampires have to do to ensure loyalty in their kind.

I knew he wouldn't ever approach it the same way I did, but I hoped at least now he would be strong enough, with me beside him, to face it at all.

He kissed my forehead and pulled the covers over us, encasing us in warmth. It had to be early morning, the club had probably closed by now and his vampires no doubt happy that neither of us had come out storming in rage. I began to relax into sleep, allowing my senses to take in all of him, his scent, his thrumming
Sanguis Vitam
in the background, the feel of his hard body against mine. I kept my shields down, not knowing if that was what was making it possible for him to read my mind, but welcoming his intrusion in my thoughts anyway. Man, I had come a long way since we first had this type of connection.

“
Thank you,
ma douce,
” he whispered, just before I drifted off to sleep. “My promise to you is I am yours, for eternity. Please never doubt it. I know to ask your trust in this, is ironic, but I ask it anyway. Trust me. If I move away, it will be temporary and for your own good.” I stiffened at where this conversation was heading, suddenly not tired at all. “I will always come back to you,
ma petite lumière
, always. Trust in that.”

Just before I could sit up and confront him on what he was saying, he smoothed a hand down my hair, pulled me close and I felt his
Sanguis Vitam
flood through me. “
Je suis desole, ma douce. Je t'aime.
” A kiss, then, “Sleep.”

One command, laced in
Sanguis Vitam
, unhindered by my shields and I was out.

I woke with a blinding headache and a gut full of rage. Michel, that son of bitch, had bespelled me to sleep and a quick glance at the clock beside our bed told me I had slept the entire day and most of the next night. Ah crap. We were back to this again.

I sent my senses out immediately, down the Bond connection we shared, felt his slight alarm that I was awake and realised he was several thousand miles away already.
You sneaky bastard. I will get you for this.
I sent the thought and then slammed my shields in place before he could offer up any excuses. I was done listening to his crap.

It took several minutes for me to stop fuming, I paced the chamber and ignored the throbbing in my head. That had to have been one hell of a doozy command he'd thrown my way. Maybe he was used to using force to get past my shields, but because they had been down, letting him in,
trusting
him, he had slammed the command home and knocked me out for over twelve hours.

Arghh! I knew exactly where he was going, to the
Iunctio
and he definitely didn't want me there, nor to obviously talk to me about it, otherwise he wouldn't have snuck off in the middle of the day, a whole 24 hours earlier than planned, to avoid discussing it with me. Well, there were ways of making him talk.

I lay back down on the bed, pulling the covers over me, I couldn't be bothered dressing, no one would see me and I was too mad to waste time getting dressed. As long as the bedspread covered me from any concerned vampire eyes here in our chamber, that's all that mattered. I settled my mind, listening to my rapid and angry heartbeat and fell with practised ease into the black void before Dream Walking. My Bond to Michel made it easy and in seconds I was standing in the plane's cabin, briefly relieved he didn't have any company and glaring at my kindred as he tensed on the couch, tablet computer in hand.

Michel can sense me in this realm, he can even see my shape, or aura, enough to get a firm handle on what I'm feeling and the expression on my face. He knew I was pissed off.

“
Ma douce!
What on Earth are you doing here?” he demanded, slightly shocked.

“You think you can command me to sleep and then walk out!” I countered, furious.

“I am on a plane,” he replied, apropos of nothing.

“Running away!” I countered, hands in fists at my side. God damn I should have grabbed a stake.

“This plane is flying through the air at close to 1000 kilometres per hour,” he replied, ignoring my temper.

“It's not fast enough for you to escape this conversation, Michel.”

His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. Great guppy impersonation, I thought mildly, enjoying the effect I was having on him.

“I am on a plane,” he repeated, through gritted teeth.

“Bully for you,” I replied, really not getting the hang up on the flying thing here.

“
You Dream Walked to me on a plane,
ma douce
. That is... well it is...”